Page 44 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
Still panting, I say, “I don't know what that means, Rome.”
As he gets up clutching his pants, he looks down at me with a solemn expression. “Neither do I.” Then he walks out of my office and enters his, slowly closing the door behind him.
Dear Diary,
Am I losing it? Am I allowing the fact that Rome is a Dom push me away from everything I know to be right?
Yes, he's gorgeous, sexy, smart, ambitious, and a Dominant, but there is more to it. There has to be more to it than those things, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm allowing him to get away with things I would never condone simply because I'm so attracted to him.
We had sex again today. In my office.
Geez. Just writing it makes me hot all over again. I won't sit on the edge of this bed and lie—it was incredible. The way he has exhibited such self-control and patience with me has been a thing of beauty to witness. He could've jumped right into impact play, but he waited until I gave him the OK. Then, once he had permission, he let loose. He combined impact play witha little bit of suspenseful voyeurism and I lit up like a sparkler for him. He was amazing once again … just before deflating my balloon with his antics at the end.
All I did was ask him what all of this meant for us, and he couldn't provide an answer. He says that he doesn't know what it means, and doesn't bother to provide any explanation about his confusion. We've had sex multiple times now, and I feel like I've put my desires on full display for him to see, but it doesn't matter. His heart feels so guarded, and that has to trump the Dom traits. Right?
Am I an idiot?
I should do better. He has given me reason to believe that he only sees our situation as a hookup, and I can't allow myself to be played that way. I have to pull myself together—ignore the look in his eyes, the angle of his jaw, and the smell of his cologne. I need to forget the strength in his grip, the depth in his voice, and the way his touch makes my body quiver. I need to be smart. This clearly isn't what I've been searching for.
Except it is.
But if that's true, then why do I feel so shitty?
Damn. I'm so screwed.
Twenty-Three
You're sitting next to him right now? After he left you high and dry yesterday?
Unfortunately, I am. We’re on our way to a restaurant called The VP. It’s owned by Nix Malone and will be the location for the Golden Diamond pitch. My emotions are all over the place, Jaz.
I bet they are after all that asshole has put you through. I'm surprised you don't have whiplash from all of his back and forth shit. Since you guys are out of the building, let me go ahead and down this gallon of water and head to his office with a full bladder.
As much as that thought makes me happy, I could probably smell your piss from my office, so please don't. Thanks for having my back though.
If you want to thank me, go in there and knock that pitch out the park. Get the new account and show that asshole of a boss that there is nobody better than you in any way. You got this, Nia.
Thanks, girl. We just pulled up, so I guess that means it’s go time.
It’s all you, boo. Good luck!
Thanks!
Ituck my phone inside the small black purse that matches my outfit and wait for Rome to pull up the parking brake on his car. He shuts off the engine and silence screams in our ears. Awkwardness and tension come to life all around us and we don't even look at each other. After having sex in my office yesterday, I never imagined that this is how we would end up just twenty-four hours later. Even after another mind-warping orgasm, I'm still just as frustrated and confused as ever, and the worst part is that I have to sweep all of my emotions under the rug so that they don't distract me from what’s about to happen. Nix Malone is waiting for us inside.
Rome, dressed in a tight white and blue button-up and navy blue slacks, lets out a long exhale as he stares out the window at the restaurant to his left. Tension rests heavily in his shoulders and jaw, making him look even more stressed than he usually does. I wish I knew why he is the way he is, but if he doesn't want to open up to me, I sure as hell am not about to beg. He’s not begging for me, so I won't give him the pleasure of me pleading for him. I’m not desperate, although my worst days make me feel like it. No, I’m a businesswoman who any smart man would belucky to have. So if Rome wants to be dumb, I won't get in his way.
“Are you ready?” he asks, not even bothering to look over at me.
I sigh. “I've been prepping this pitch for weeks now, Mr. Giovanni. I'm anxious because of who the client is, but that doesn't mean I'm not ready. Don't underestimate me.”
When Rome turns to face me, his jaw is so tight I don't expect the words to fit through his clenched teeth. Unfortunately, he manages to say, “I'm not underestimating you, Nia. I just want to make sure you're prepared to go in there and face this man. Also, I asked you not to call me that.”
“It’s not your job to worry about me,” I reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance. “And I prefer to call you by your last name because it’s more professional. Clearly that’s the way we’re keeping it after everything that has happened, which is fine with me. I just need to make sure that the line between us is bold instead of translucent. That way, I can ensure I don't cross it. Now, if you're ready, I'd like to get going. Don't want to keep the potential client waiting.”
As Rome begins to speak again, I open the door and step out of the car. I hear him sigh as I slam it shut, but I don't care. Just as he's stepping out, I walk across the busy street, forcing him to jog to catch up. Once he’s standing next to me, he mutters something under his breath, but I ignore it and make my way inside.
“Good afternoon,” a man wearing a black tuxedo with a gold bow-tie greets us as soon as we’re inside.
