Page 133 of Mourner for Hire
“How do you know about those?”
“People like me, Dominic. Unfortunately for you.” I smirk. “Now get out.”
“I want to help,” he says while obediently slipping his pants back on, but leaving them unbuttoned.
“I want to surprise you.” I step closer, resting my hand on his chest. “You may hate every circumstance that brought me to you, but you will love what I do with the life that’s left. I promise.”
Dominic freezes with a curious expression on his face. I can’t tell if he’s about to smile or roll his eyes. The planes of his face areequal parts stern and soft. He stalks toward me—two swift steps, and my heart rotates in my chest as he stares down at me, cupping a hand around my jaw.
“You’re going to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?”
As soon as the words leave his lips, a smile breaks out on my face. He doesn’t smile, though—not quite. The same curious contemplation is etching lines on his face.
He makes me giddy. Like kick my feet in the air, bite my lip, this-could-be-love crazy. I grip the waistband of his jeans, pulling his body flush against mine. I kiss his chin. “That or make you want to grab your pitchfork and drive me out of town,” I tease.
“I’m going to enjoy you until you lose your mind, Vada.”
I lean up and look at him.
“Yeah?” I question, temptation in my eyes. “Make me see stars.”
The rip of the fabric makes me jump while liquid heat pools inside me as he turns me around. My oversized T-shirt falls over my shoulders and drops to the floor. Dominic is quiet behind me, his breathing subdued. He runs a languid finger down my spine and then, without warning, pushes me over so I’m bent over the bed. His hand presses against the small of my back, and he groans as his hand curves over my ass until his fingers slip between my legs.
He moans, deep, throaty, magnificent. “So fucking wet.”
He rubs his fingers against my clit, and desire slides up my legs and settles in my core with the electric current of a thousand oceans.
I squirm and whimper, but he holds me in place, not changing his pressure or cadence.
“Do you want more?” he asks, his left hand gliding up my back and around to my chest to cup my breast in his hand.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Say it.”
“I want more.” I moan out the words as my toes tingle and my legs start to give out.
He removes his hand.
“Please. Dominic,” I whine.
A rough chuckle vibrates through the room as he rubs the tip against me. My head rolls back, and he digs his hand into my hair, pulling just enough that I know I’m at his mercy.
“Condom,” I say. “Now.”
He bends forward, his chest pressed against my back and one arm snaking around my waist. He bites my ear. “So bossy.”
A salacious laugh tumbles out of me, and he pulls me to standing.
“Nightstand,” I tell him, and he opens the drawer to find a condom.
I sit on the edge of the bed waiting, impatiently enough that while he tears open the condom wrapper, I take him in my hand, stroking him and rubbing my thumb over his leaking tip.
Desire winds tightly with him in my hand. He’s ready, weeping, and just so fucking delectable, I can’t help but put my mouth on him.
“Fuck, Vada,” he groans, hands in my hair as his hips thrust past my lips. “That mouth.”
I take him as far as I can, over and over until I need to catch my breath. I let him go with a pop, and I wipe my bottom lip with my thumb as I stare up at him through my lashes. “Where are those stars you promised?”
