Three Hard Lessons (14 page)

The angle was just right between us so he hit my G-spot. I left one hand on top of his that clung to me, and the other ventured lower. It took a detour at my clit for a moment, then I let it wander lower, touching his balls.

“Goddamnit!”

Beneath me, his body writhed. The hands on my skin pulled and pushed, urging me to move faster. Yeah, he’d given up on trying not to come. Now his body took over and it showed me how he wanted it.

“Fuck, fuck . . .” It played an endless loop from him, mindless while the man under me went rigid.
“Fuck!”
He sucked in an enormous breath, and pushed it out in a loud moan. Not a scream, but louder than I’d heard him before. Then, the pulse deep inside, signaling his drawn-out release. Every twitch and flex I could feel, and I could feel it everywhere.

I slowed my breathing, taking a minute to blink back to reality, although I was still buzzing. The hands around me gently lifted me off of him and rolled me onto my side so I was against the cool sheets, and then his arm folded over me.

Spooning me. Again. I told myself I was allowing it because I was exhausted and blissed-out. Not because I kind of didn’t mind it. Because that would be crazy. My eyes closed when lips brushed over my neck, and an involuntary shiver crept over me, followed by goosebumps.

“You’re cold?” he asked, whisper-quiet.

“No. You’re causing that,” I admitted.

He let out a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like satisfaction.

Not sure how long we lay there. Minutes, hours, days . . . whatever. Eventually he got up, disposed of the condom in the bathroom, then went to the kitchen, returning with glass of water for me, and that annoying soda for him.

I drank and set my glass on the nightstand, then rolled over to face him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I said, “about the thirty grand. Did you not know you were supposed to negotiate?”

He was on his back, one hand propped up behind his head, and gave me a lazy smile. “I knew.”

“Okay, so you’re stupid about money.”

The lazy smile stretched wider. “Maybe. Or maybe I wasn’t interested in wasting time discussing it, plus the whole thing . . .” His eyebrows pulled together into a more serious expression. “Haggling about money and saying, ‘No, she’s only worth this much–’” Those blue eyes blinked slowly. “I was already extremely uncomfortable with what I was doing. I didn’t want to assign a dollar value to you like you were livestock. I just wanted that part over as fast as possible.”

“Aw, that’s nice. But all I hear is that you’re incredibly stupid about money.”

“Maybe what you should hear is that I know a good value when I see it.”

chapter

THIRTEEN

I must have dozed off. When I woke, it was dark in the room and Dominic’s heavy, deep breathing beside me announced he was asleep. Thankfully he was on his side of the bed so I was able to slip out without him knowing. I shut his bedroom door quietly behind me then pulled my luggage to the second bedroom.

This one was done in greens and was smaller than his. No window. The bed wasn’t much bigger than my college dorm bed, but as it was unoccupied and I was still exhausted, it looked great. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt, because I’d lied to Dominic the other day. I didn’t sleep in the nude unless I had to.

I curled up under the covers and passed out.

Only to wake with his arm around me, making me the little spoon once again. What the fuck? My bleary eyes surveyed the room. Purple, not green. Big bed, not little. His room. “How the hell did I get here?”

“Plane,” he rumbled, half-asleep.

“No, asshole. How’d I get in this bed?”

There was a hand attached to the arm thrown over me, and that hand was beneath my shirt, his palm warm against my belly. “I got lonely and dragged your ass back here. Now stop talking so I can sleep. I have to work tomorrow.”

I tried to get up, but the hand went firm.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Fire flooded into me. “I told you. I. Don’t. Do. This.”

The bed rocked subtly as he rose up on an arm and loomed over me. Only the faint blue light from his alarm clock lit the room, but I could see his face clearly enough. It was set and determined.

“I. Don’t. Care.” Annoyance coated his voice. “My bed’s been empty for a year and you think I’m going to let the most beautiful woman I’ve seen sleep in the other room?”

I stared up at him and tried to assemble my words, but apparently he wasn’t finished.

“I brought you ten thousand miles to be here with me. Not on the other side of my apartment. What’s the big deal? You get night-terrors or something?”

“No,” I scoffed. “But it’s . . .” God, I didn’t want to have this conversation, now or ever.

“But it’s what?”

I sighed. “It’s too intimate.”

Of course he began to laugh. If I wasn’t pissed that he was laughing at me, I might have thought his laugh sounded nice. Deep, yet warm and infectious. Instead, I flung his hand off of me.

He scrambled to regain control. “Hey, stop that. Come on, this is stupid. We’ve had sex how many times already? We’re way past intimate.”

That’s not how I viewed it at all. Seeing him naked, sleeping with him . . . that wasn’t intimacy. The day-to-day, real life was what I didn’t want. I wouldn’t mind a peek behind the curtain of Dominic, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to get one behind mine.

I flopped down, turning over in a huff, and heard him settle back down.

I knew this was stupid, and if I ever wanted to belong to someone else, I was going to have to let them in. Yet I’d only done that once in my life and been burned so spectacularly, I couldn’t stomach the thought of trying again. I’d held Joel at a safe distance and hidden behind the sex, but my strategy had only worked for so long.

The bedroom was silent other than Dominic’s breathing which deepened as he fell asleep. Now I was wide-awake, staring at the ceiling of his Japanese apartment. How much longer should I stay here? I had to be firm about this sleeping arrangement. I’d let him have the kissing, but no more blowing past my rules.

I waited.

Gently extracted myself from his embrace.

And waited again. Then, I escaped from his bed the second time, channeling my inner ninja. I was relieved to stand my ground as I crossed the living area for the guest bedroom, but worried what action he was going to take when he figured out he was alone again. Would he storm into the bedroom, flip the lights on, and demand I get back into bed with him?

No, it was worse.

His heavy arm was around me again, crushing me against his body that was like a fucking furnace.

“Morning,” he murmured when I stirred.

“Seriously?” I was disoriented with sleep, wanting to fall back into it. Too tired to argue right at that moment. “Can you at least get on your side?”

“I am on my side. This bed is tiny.”

What? My eyes fluttered open to see the green wall. He’d crawled into bed with me, rather than attempt the move again.

“You’re obnoxious.”

He chuckled. “You didn’t leave me any other choice.” Beneath the sheets, his large hand curled around me tighter. “You hungry?”

The thought of food woke me some. “What time is it?”

“Five-thirty.”

Turning over to face him almost sent me off the bed because there was no room to maneuver. The bedroom door was open and early morning light came in from the living area. His eye was almost back to normal with just a faint purple shadow clung below it.

“What are you making me for breakfast?”

His hand settled in the small of my back with ease. “What makes you think I’m making you breakfast?”

“I’m your guest. It’s polite, and I didn’t exactly get a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s your fault, not mine. You chose this bed.” Before I could protest, he covered my mouth with his. His soft lips pressed to mine and encouraged my participation. The spark between us flared, burning brighter and hotter as his tongue gently slipped into my mouth. The thought slammed into me. Dominic . . . was he even better at kissing than he was at fucking?

I didn’t get a chance to test the theory. He drew back abruptly and sat up, taking his warmth away. He ran a hand over the scruff covering his jaw, and turned his gaze toward the kitchen.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked.

“I want what we were just doing.” I reached a hand out and set it on his arm, tugging him back toward me, but he wouldn’t budge.

He blew out a short breath. “Yeah, me, too, but I don’t have time.”

“You can be late.”

There was that deep laugh. “Late? That word doesn’t exist in Japanese culture.”

I sat up and tossed the covers back, wanting the desire to drain from my body. It was alarming how quickly he’d turned me on. “Fine. What do you have to eat?”

“Frosted Flakes.” He stood. “I don’t have milk, though.”

“Delicious.” My eyes were fixed on his body.

A smile broke on his face. He must have put his boxers back on before coming into my room, but they was the only thing covering his insane body. I enjoyed every defined curve of his chest and the notched washboard abs below it, leading my eyes like an arrow downward.

I swung one foot then the other and stood, stretching my arms up over my head. He took the lead from me. His gaze caressed down over my tight and thin white tank top and lingered there for a moment at the swell of my breasts before working lower to the shorts and my bare legs. The muscles along his jawline flexed, and I’d swear I saw him swallow hard.

“I have to leave this room now, devil woman.” And he fled to the kitchen.

I crunched a bowl of dry cereal and stared at the Japanese version of Tony the Tiger while Dominic showered and dressed. Seeing him packaged in a suit was a close second to the boxers, and he smelled earthy and manly as he came close, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Not to sound all domestic,” I said with a mouthful of cereal, “but when will you be home?”

He hesitated. “I stay until the ship’s secured. They stick as close to the schedule as they can, but there’s a lot of uncontrolled variables that usually derail it.”

I understood what he hadn’t exactly said. “You don’t know.”

“If inventory is balanced, the wind doesn’t interfere with the crane, and the ship doesn’t have any maintenance issues, they pull out of the port at five. I’ll text you if that changes.” He went to the narrow bookshelf beside the couch and pulled out glossy brochures, splashing them on the dining table. A pen appeared from his suit pocket and he scribbled a note on it.

“WiFi password.” A yellow map was pulled from the pile of papers. “This is the map of the train. Take this if you go out. Some of the trains don’t have any English and you’ll get lost.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as if uncomfortable.

“What’s with you?”

“This is weird, just leaving you here to, like, fend for yourself. I didn’t prepare you at all.”

His guilty expression reinforced this, as if he felt he were abandoning me. Which was totally unnecessary, but kind of sweet.

“Oh my god, I’ll be fine.”

His face said he was far from convinced. “There’s a
konbini
right by the station, you remember how to get there?” He dug out his wallet and pulled out a handful of yen.

“I do, but I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a convenience mart. They’ve got groceries.”

When he held out the wad of money toward me I stared at it, unmoving. “You want me to buy your groceries?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. There’s not a lot to eat here. I wasn’t expecting to have company.”

He was flustered, and every moment longer I stood without taking his money seemed to make it worse. Uncomfortable Dominic wasn’t far off from embarrassed Dominic. Cute. I enjoyed it for a second and then closed my hand on the cash.

“Any requests?”

“I’m not picky, but don’t buy anything unless you’re sure what’s inside.” A look crossed his face, a shudder of a memory.

“Learned that one the hard way, huh?”

He nodded and finished his coffee. His eyes fell like he was going to check his watch, but discovered his wrist was bare. Instead, he checked the time on the microwave clock. “I have to head out. You sure you’re okay? You can text me if you need help.”

His concern was starting to annoy me. I’d traveled all over Europe, and lived on my own in downtown Chicago. “Seriously, I’ll manage.”

He set a key on the counter. “Okay. Here’s the spare key when you go out.”

And with that settled, it dropped us squarely in the middle of ‘how the hell do we say goodbye?’ Did I throw out a ‘have a good day at work?’ Give him a hug? His blue eyes studied me, gauging my body language or waiting for me to initiate the farewell.

“Well,” he said, “have fun.”

It was like his feet were glued to the floor, though, and his expression looked pained. Like he was displeased with himself for saying those words. His head tilted slightly, bent toward me. “You gonna fucking kiss me, or what?”