One side of his mouth lifts. “We had a good one not too long ago.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Want to start with politics or religion?” He chuckles darkly at my answering scowl before he shifts, pinning me to my seat as we race forward. “Eggs—runny, coffee—black, beer—cold, music—loud, cars,” he floors the gas.
“Fast,” I say through a laugh.
“Woman,” he turns and rolls his mirror colored gaze over me.
Woman, not women. I feel that comment so much I move to grip his hand, and he pulls it away before I reach it.
“I save that for when I can do something about it.”
“And you think that’s affection?”
“Isn’t it?” he takes a turn that has me yelping. That’s exactly what it felt like on the float. Like he’d been waiting for an eternity to touch me.
He’s the opposite of Sean in a lot of ways.
It’s not a fault, but something to look forward to.
“What makes you happy?”
He takes another turn, his forearm flexing when he shifts. “All of the above.”
“Runny eggs and coffee make you happy?”
“What if you woke up tomorrow and there was no coffee?”
I feel my brows pinch together. “That would…be tragic.”
“Next time you drink it, pretend it’s the last time you can have it.”
I roll my eyes. “Great, there’s two of you. Is that some life philosophy? Okay, Plato.”
“You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than you can in a year of conversation.”
I gape at him because I’m pretty sure he just quoted Plato.
“I was raised in a way I appreciate the small shit.” He looks at me pointedly and it’s then I understand his point fully. I saw the house he grew up in, and it screamed of poverty and neglect. He let me see it. My heart melts some at both his spoken and unspoken admissions as he makes a sudden turn and skids to park, cutting off his lights, leaving us shrouded in partial moonlight.
I lean up to peer through the windshield and see a crescent moon hovering above us. “Come here,” the order is whispered at my neck as he grips me and pulls me to straddle him, stealing the attention of the moon. I grin down at him as he slinks down in his seat, making enough room for us to fit comfortably between his seat and the steering wheel. The look he’s giving me is enough to make me forget myself. I lean in to claim his lips and he turns his head, dodging my kiss.
“He likes the red,” he runs his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck down to the ends and repeats the movement, his touch enchanting.
Something about the comment twists me. In just seconds alone with Dominic, I’d forgotten Sean’s request not to smudge my lips. I try and squelch the guilt as Dominic’s touch travels, inching beneath my T-shirt before he strokes lightly along the waistband of my jeans. The low ache his touch brings ignites the fire in my veins as he gazes up at me, always watching, but relaxed. The pull is undeniable, but he stills my every attempt to touch him, be it by the squeeze on my flesh beneath his fingers or the jerk of his head before he resumes his torture, caressing me everywhere but where I want him.
“How long have you known each other?” I rasp out while his hands roam up my back past my bra line, cupping my shoulder blades, further warming my skin.
“Most of our lives.”
“That close?” I say, rocking a little on his cock, feeling the bulge growing beneath me. The friction is delicious. I can’t help but rotate my hips for more. His eyes heat in response, but he makes no move to do anything about it.
“We’re all close.”
“Apparently so.”
Sudden and loud rumbling drowns out the chirping crickets just before I get an eyeful of cars speeding past Dom’s shoulder. We must have been flying if they’re just now catching up, or Dominic must’ve known a short cut. “They’re leaving us.”
“We left them.” In the shadow created by the half-moon hovering above, I study him. His eyes glint like pools of silver even under the cover of night, his high cheekbones casting twin shadows on his jaw, his lush lips lit fully, taunting me.
“And we left them because?”
“Because,” he lifts up as if he’s going to kiss me, his breath hitting my lips. I brace myself for the feel of it, closing my eyes and leaning in, and then feel his absence. Opening my eyes, I see he’s again resting against his seat, a knowing smirk on his lips.