Page 55 of Devious Love
With my focus still fixed on my phone, I push open the bathroom door. Instantly, I’m assaulted by the scent of caramel. It’s followed by a gust of humid air that makes my tee cling to my chest. Surprised, I snap my head up, and what I see sends heat straight to my groin.
Mia is standing in front of the sink with her back to me. Her body is wrapped in one pink towel, her hair hidden in a second one that’s twisted turban-style on top of her head.
Unaware of my presence, she sets a bottle on the counter and gingerly rubs some kind of cream onto her face. Her damp skin glows under the light, water droplets clinging to her neck and shoulders.
I let my focus wander down her spine, enjoying the view, but just as I’m about to lower my gaze to her ass, my brain registers a tattoo peeking out from under the towel. Suddenly, my limbs feel heavy, my ears ringing.
Because that tattoo is the one I see almost every fucking night in my dreams.
The room spins, and the walls close in on me. With my chest constricting painfully, I step inside the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The sound startles her, and she turns around, one hand gripping the towel where it’s tucked between her breasts.
“What are you doing here?”
I run a hand down my face and close my eyes, my stomach roiling. This can’t be happening.
Behind my lids, memories of that night flash. My big hands gripping that tiny waist. Those fucking luscious thighs. My mouth on perfect pink nipples. The taste of her, the heat that radiated from her core, the softness of her skin.
“Dominic?”
Her voice snaps me back into the present.
Jaw clenched, I hiss, “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me it wasn’t you.”
She tightens her towel around herself, her expression one of pure confusion. “I have no idea?—”
“Last year, Halloween, at Romero’s house.”
Her face pales.
“Tell me it wasn’t you. Please.”
She swallows thickly, her throat bobbing, and takes a step back.
It’s the only confirmation I need, and damn, if it doesn’t make my heart stutter.
Without a word, I storm out of the bathroom and down the stairs. I don’t stop until I’m standing in the middle of the backyard, hands laced on top of my head, breath heaving in and out of my lungs.
CHAPTER 15
anything you want
MIA
Age 18
October, Last Year
“Oh my God,oh my God, oh my God!” Chia squeals as she launches herself into my hotel room and squeezes me tight. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!”
“Ow,” I whine.
She rears back. “What’s wrong?”
“My tattoo.” I turn a little so she can see the ink I got done yesterday.
She claps her hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling. “Shut the front door! No way!”
I smile, nodding. “Yes way. It was a birthday gift from my dad.”
