Page 20 of Sweet Girl

Aidan: So charming. She’s gonna love it

Me: Fuck. Get your shit together. See u at home

The plan is pretty simple. Friday night is mine, where I’m going to take her out to a Valentine’s themed party that I know she’ll love, and we’ll finally see if she’s open to fucking all of us. The way I’m eager to watch her with them has hit an all-time high. Saturday she’ll get alone time with Aidan and Cruz and experience everything they have to offer and hopefully connect with each of them on a deeper level without the group setting. I’m confident that she’s going to melt like ice for all of us. I know my sweet girl, and she wants this.

Wants us.

CHAPTER12

emma

The restof the week passed by in a blur. After being so inspired while writing at the guys’ house, I took Dom up on his offer to use their place during the day to write until I had to be at Knockout for work. The story isn’t my original plan, but what’s been brought to life in its place is so much better. I feel slightly guilty for writing what’s essentially my deepest fantasy of being shared by a group of friends. But, that’s the fun part about writing and reading. You get to escape to alternate realities where the impossible is suddenly possible.

Anticipation courses through me as I get ready for my Valentine’s date. I’m still in the dark as to what Dominik has planned for me. All he’s said is to keep an open mind and pack a bag to stay the weekend at his house. I can’t help but wonder if Aidan and Cruz will be there or not. A sharp pang pinches my heart when I realize they very well could have dates of their own. While Cruz doesn’t screamValentine’s Day wine and dine, he does seem like he’d be down for a quick fuck if the situation called for it. Nausea rolls through me at the thought, which is not a good sign. I have no right to be jealous about what or who Aidan and Cruz do.

After pampering myself, I pull on a lacy bra and panty set and, standing in front of the mirror, take a second to run my fingers over the faint scars on my forearms, trailing the same path Cruz took. The self-mutilation started when I was twelve. I realized that scratching myself gave me a release of energy that was bottled up with nowhere to go. It was much quieter than screaming, and the release was much better.

The pressure to be perfect, to not gain any weight, to always present myself as an extension of my wealthy parents, to stand up straight, to be this picture-perfect daughter for them, was too much. Lily and I clung to each other like a lifeline as our parents, who are also best friends, forced us to parade around town as mini, perfect duplicates of themselves.

“Smile, Emma darling, everyone is always watching.”

Well, Mom, maybe the pressure is just too much and I don’t have anything to smile about right now. What an embarrassment I’ve become for them. A degree in creative writing and a plan to be a dark romance author, of all things. The scratching quickly turned into biting, then cutting. The scars are carried with me, but I haven’t cut for months, although when things get too heavy, the itch is always there. Training with Dominik has actually been the biggest stress reliever. It’s given me a safe place to channel the energy when it gets too loud.

“The only release you should ever need from now on is from pleasure. But, if you ever need the pain, I want you to come to me.”

Cruz’s words replay in my head and my heart does a funny thing in my chest. It’s hard for me to open up about this topic, but with Cruz, it was as easy as breathing.

Refocusing my effort on the task at hand, I do my makeup, opting to go with something more muted and “good girl” than dark and sultry. It is Valentine’s Day, after all.

I shake my head of the incessant thoughts of the three men that are consuming me, and focus on the night ahead. It’s the first time I’ve had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day, and I can’t wait to spend it with Dominik. We meet each other on a primal level, the safety and comfort that man brings me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. He’s dominant without being suffocating, and he pushes me to be strong, giving me the power to take on anything on my own. I’ve never felt as powerful, beautiful, and alive as I do when I’m with him.

And Cruz and Aidan.That nagging little voice in my head reminds me.

After adding some waves to my blonde locks and moisturizing with my favorite body butter, I pull out the red cocktail dress that Lily and I picked out. Slipping into the smooth fabric, the dress hugs every inch of me, as if it was tailored just for my body. The bodice gives my small breasts just enough lift to give me some cleavage, without it being too much. I slip my feet into the black stilettos and buckle the rhinestone strap around each ankle.

Looking at myself in the full-length mirror, I feel pretty irresistible and so ready to actually have some fun on Valentine’s Day, instead of wallowing in lonely misery like every year prior.

Just as I’m heading downstairs with my overnight bag, the doorbell rings, signaling Dom’s arrival. Butterflies take flight in my belly and my cheeks flush in anticipation. Taking one last glance at myself in a mirror and swiping a quick coat of strawberry lip gloss across my lips, I eagerly open the door. Dom is the essence of strong, confident, and fucking gorgeous male perfection at its absolute finest. He’s wearing a pair of denim jeans, a white button-up shirt with a black vest, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, putting his defined, tattooed forearms on full display. He’s sans coat, which is so him–thriving in the feel of the cold winter air against his skin.

“Moya lyubov’,you look beautiful.”

My cheeks flame brighter under his compliment as his eyes rake sensually over my body.

“Thank you. You look pretty damn good yourself, sir.”

He leans into my space, cupping my cheeks and dropping a chaste kiss to my lips, licking along the seam.

“Fuck, you always taste so sweet,” he says as he licks his lips, savoring my taste. “You ready to go?”

“I am. Let me just grab my coat.”

Dom guides me down the steps of the house until we reach his Mustang. Taking my spot in the passenger seat, I don’t bother adjusting the dress. As Dom settles in next to me, I don’t miss the way his features darken as he notices how high the hem has ridden up. His right hand moves to my thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before grasping the gearshift and backing out of the driveway.

“So, when are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“All you had to do was ask,milaya devochka.We’re going to a party because I know how much you love to dance. Then we’re spending the weekend together at my house, where I have some things planned I think you’ll like. The rest is a surprise.”

Those damn butterflies return to my belly, taking flight and making my heart feel weird in my chest. Once Dom pulls onto the long, empty road that my parents live on, his hand returns to my thigh, his strong fingers pushing up the hem of my dress until they find their home between my legs.

---