Page 185 of By A Thread
“Christian, I’m so glad you could come tonight,” I said. “Have you met my friend Faith yet?”
Dalessandra and Simone shared a sly look.
“I have not,” Christian said.
“She’s the stunning, Gwen Stefani-esque woman currently telling children that Santa Claus isn’t real,” I said, leading the way to my friend, who was telling Linus’s kids a story that had them transfixed.
“Excuse me, guys. Mind if I borrow this lady for a minute?”
“Aww,” they pouted.
“Here’s five bucks each,” Faith said, opening her wallet.
“Yay!” The kids forgot all about Faith and dashed off with their earnings.
“Faith, this is Christian. Christian, this is Faith. You two have a lot in common. You both spend a lot of time around mostly naked, beautiful people for a living.”
Christian raised an eyebrow. “Model?”
“Strip club owner. Plastic surgeon?” she shot back.
“Designer.”
“Faith has no intentions of settling down and no tolerance for sweeping judgments on her lifestyle. Christian here has zero time to devote to an actual relationship because he’s in love with his business. I thought you two should meet.”
“Tell me more about strip club owning,” Christian insisted, leading Faith in the direction of the bar by the elbow.
Mission accomplished.If those two beautiful people didn’t decide to take their bodies on a strings-free test drive, then there was something very wrong with the world.
“When can we kick everyone out?” The gruff voice was accompanied by a nibble at the spot where my neck met my shoulder.
I turned and looped my arms around Dominic’s neck. His tie was loosened. He’d ditched his shoes at some point, and he had a cinnamon butterscotch cookie in his hand.
“It’s your birthday, Charming,” I said saucily. “We can fake food poisoning at any time.”
The music changed to a Frank Sinatra favorite, and I felt us begin to sway to the beat.
“Am I still in trouble?” I asked.
There was an eruption of laughter behind us as Mr. Mohammad finally reached a punchline. Brownie ran past us with a kid’s sock in his mouth. Several someones drank a toast to someone named Dave behind us. The back door opened, bringing just a hint of sweet cigar smoke into the room.
“Of course. Just because this is a moderately not horrible experience doesn’t mean you’ve escaped punishment,” Dominic said, running the tip of his nose around the shell of my ear.
A delighted shiver worked its way up my spine. “I really like you, Dom. A lot.” Smitten and dizzy. That’s exactly how I felt.
His eyes, those denim blue eyes, roamed my face intently.
“I just thought you should know,” I said, starting to feel embarrassed.
He gathered me tighter to him and danced me in a little circle. “I really like you too, Ally.” His voice was rough and raspy. And I thought I detected just the slightest hint of emotion in it.
* * *
With the snickof the lock on the front door behind our last guest, my charming, civilized Dominic turned into an animal. He shoved me against the wall. “I wanted to do this all night,” he growled into my hair as he ground his erection against my ass.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Do you know how many pieces of furniture I’ve bent you over, how many walls I’ve fucked you against in my fantasies?”
