Page 48 of Dominance

Despite the enjoyable humor, and the tension between us, there’s another aspect to all of this that has been eating at me more than the rest.

The fact that I really, really want Gloria. I want this to be real.

To work.

My entire life I’ve had to be tough, deny my needs for those of others. Is it so wrong to want to indulge something of my own?

Added to the fact that all that macho, mob-raised mentality goes flying right out the window whenever I see her. Like I just want to stare at her pretty face.

To grab her and lay one on her.

And then tear both of our clothes off and never leave our bed.

I want her to be the person I met on that train. I need her to be.

But if that’s true, I also need to be the person I was. Is that who I really am?

Is this romantic, foolish, flirty, and cocky side of me just a front? Or is it just a part of me I’ve denied for way too long.

The expanse of the leather seat between us feels like a chasm.

Just when we were starting to get somewhere.

“You sure this works for me?” I tug at the collar of my shirt, the tie.

“Very much so. You look sharp. Powerful.” She bobs her eyebrows once.

“Right. Guess that’s a good thing where we’re going.”

“You don’t want to be careless with my father. He hates it. You know as well as anyone how he likes things.”

“Yeah. Neat and tidy. No loose ends. Even though he tends to run things off-the-cuff most of the time.”

“He would say it keeps his enemies guessing.”

“Right. But we’re not supposed to be enemies,” I say, a little too testily.

“It makes you nuts, huh? His erratic nature. Impulsiveness.”

“It makes me nervous.”

“Me too,” she murmurs, barely audible. “You would have things run smoother. Calmer. Right?”

“Wouldn’t you? We always ran a tight ship. But we, I mean I, gave and gained respect and confidence through consistency with our people. Follow-through. And I made sure my guys felt comfortable enough to be themselves still. To put talents to good use.”

“That’s a good way to run a business.”

“And a family.”

“You know, you can still…” She gestures for me to lean toward her, running her fingers through my hair, tussling it a bit.

Pulling back, I give her an odd look, uncertain.

“This way you can have something the way you like it. The way I like it too.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

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