Page 47 of Dominance

ADRIANO

Itry and fail again to tie my tie.

Not that I hate dressing up, I like to look nice. But…

Doing it to please Dom of all people, to impress his guests and allies?

Pass.

Besides the fact that I suck at tying ties.

“Are you ready to go? The car will be here soon.”

“Almost. Just … fucking tie.”

She’s there in an instant, her fingers wrapping around me from behind. “Here. Let me do it for you.”

“You don’t have to…Thanks.” I concede, sighing softly. “Where’d you learn how?—?”

Standing so close to me it’s impossible for me to tell her to stop.

She’s like a shot of whiskey, immediately making my head spin.

Wish I had a shot right about now.

“I watched my mom tie my stepdad’s tie for years. Not sure why he always wore one. All he ever did was gamble down at the bar.”

“Sounds like a winner,” I scoff, watching her fingers work. It’s soothing, calming. Distracting.

The cool shower and the nap I took right after cleared my head, some. But Gloria’s body, her legs wrapped around my head and then her mouth wrapped around me…

It’s all I can think about between bouts of trying to think of other things.

Probably a good thing that she went out to run some errands while I was showering. I needed to sleep after another all-nighter. And there is only one way the rest of the day would have gone.

So the nap helped, but not enough to prevent my brain going into overdrive as her chest presses up against my back through my shirt and her surreal, teal, sparkling dress. The neckline on that thing…

“Ahem,” she chirps, her eyes in the mirror flicking down to my crotch, swelling through my gray-blue trousers.

“Sorry?” I ask sarcastically.

“Never apologize, but we really need to go, so I really need to tie your tie without dick-stractions.”

“Wow.” I laugh, suppressing a snort. “That pun was breast-taking—I mean?—”

Her giggle is musical, sending shivers all over me.

“Grab your jacket!” Gloria spins, heading toward the door.

“You can if you want,” I call after her, a stupid grin on my face.

“What?”

“Jack-it …”

I barely dodge the couch pillow aimed at my head.

We’re still chuckling, fading off into silence as we slide into the back of the jet-black, shiny Lincoln Dom sent to get us. It leaves me time to think, time for my thoughts to drift as we pull away, heading toward a night of fake smiles and ulterior motives.

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