Page 41 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
I make a show of glancing at the clock right next to his face before looking at him. “Not with less than two minutes left of work I'm not.”
He nods, stepping into the office and lowering himself into one of the accent chairs in front of my desk. “I won't take up too much of your time. There’s just something we need to discuss before you head out.”
I frown—because what the hell is this? What’s with all the formality? How is he trying to act all professional after having his cock in my mouth and my legs in the air? He makes himself comfortable just as the day ends and everyone gets up to leave. He couldn't have come to discuss this before the end of the day drew near? What the actual fuck?
As the office begins to look more and more empty, Rome keeps his eyes on me. I can smell his cologne from here, and the gaze he fixes on me gives me far too many memories of what happened on my couch. Hot pinpricks scatter across my face as I wait for him to finally speak up, but my patience runs thin quickly.
“Are you waiting for everyone to leave?” I ask, my brow furrowed as I lean back in my chair.
He shakes his head. “Oh, I didn't even think about it. I apologize. I’ll try to make this quick. How is the prep going for the Golden Diamond pitch?”
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. Thiscan'tbe the reason he’s in here.
“It’s finished and I'm ready. Why?” I inquire, looking up at the clock again.
“Because the pitch is tomorrow,” Rome replies. “I've spoken to Nix’s people, and they say his only available date for us is tomorrow afternoon. So, are you sure you're ready?”
Even though I’m prepared, the pressure on my body increases and I’m pushed down into my seat, unable to move.
“Tomorrow afternoon?” I say. “They couldn't have made it another two or three days out?”
“You just said you were ready?”
“I am, but …tomorrow?” I let out a breath that does nothing to relax my rigid muscles. “This is Nix Malone we’re talking about. Right hand to the madman himself. I just … I’m nervous.”
Rome leans forward in his seat, placing his forearms on his thighs, and I can't help but fixate on his hands. I remember where they’ve been and what they've done to me. It’s an unneeded distraction.
“You're going to be fine,” he says. “The way you passionately craft your pitches is exactly why I chose you for this. You're going to do great, and we’re going to lock this account. Don't stress yourself.”
“Oh, you're mister confidence now?” I ask. “Is that why you've been avoiding talking to me or even looking at me? Was I supposed to take that as I sign that you know I’ll do fine all on my own? Because I took it to mean that you didn't want to be anywhere near me after everything happened?”
Nervousness spreads across Rome’s face and drips down to his body, forcing him to get up and turn around to see if anyone remains in the bullpen. He spins the other direction and leans back, looking down the hall to make sure Sierra’s office is empty. Once he's satisfied that we’re alone, he sinks back into the chair.
“I haven't been avoiding you,” he says—the world’s most obvious lie.
I scoff. “Seriously? What would you call it?”
“Nothing,” he snips, his nervousness suddenly mixing with irritation. “It’s not you that I'm avoiding. It’s … the situation.”
My eyebrows nearly leap off my face. “Oh really? So now I'm just asituation? Wow. And here I was thinking that we enjoyed each other’s company at dinner and that we had an insane connection afterward. I guess that was all in my head, because clearly all you wanted was to hit it. I’ll be sure to remember that and keep it professional now that I know I’m an idiot who was just being used. Great. Are we done here, Mr. Giovanni?”
Annoyance shoots from Rome’s pores. “Don't … I didn't say … don't call me that,” he blares, standing up like the seat just became too hot. “I didn't say that you're just a situation. I said I’m avoidingthesituation, and it’s deeper than you're aware of. Okay? I have my own issues that need to be worked out, and I'm your boss, I'm just not … right … at the moment. You don't know what I've been through.”
I stand up, matching his energy. “I would if you would just tell me. You act like we had a hard time conversing the other night—like I'm not a good listener who wants to hear all about you. I thought it was clear that I like you and I want to know more. I thought that was the entire point.”
“Well, I don't know if I'm ready to give more, or if I'm even capable,” he shoots back, emotion suddenly overwhelming his face. “I don't like this. I don't trust this. I don'tneedthis. Okay, Nia. I thought that I could give it a try, because you'reso incredibly perfect. You stand there looking like everything I might ever need in this life, and I love the way you make me smile, and how passionate you are. I love that you're not afraid to stand up for yourself, and that you embrace who you are with no apologies. You're a real woman, and that has been surprisingly difficult to come by, but now that you're standing in front of me, I just don't feel ready and you fucking scare me. The possibilities of love, laughter, and happiness that waft off of you like rays of sunshine scare the living shit out of me.”
The office suddenly descends into silence as we stand on opposite sides of my desk. Rome breathes heavily, as if talking about how he feels has exhausted his body from the inside out. What the hell has this man gone through that has him scared to be happy? We’ve only been together one time, and he is already acting like I’m a monster coming to ruin his life.
I step around my desk and slowly make my way over to him, careful with each step as if approaching an untrustworthy dog for the first time. I see the discomfort in his eyes and the tension in his muscles. I can sense his apprehension, but instead of being pushed away, it makes me want to move closer. I can tell that he has been through something deep, just as I have, and the common ground makes me want to be there for him. I want to help him heal if that’s what he needs.
“Rome,” I say, inching my way forward. “If you're not interested in being with me, just say that. It’s clear that you've been through something that I know nothing about, but it’s unfair for you to judge me based on what I don't know. I’ll never get in if you don't let me, but I understand if you don't want to. We barely know each other, and there’s no need to make it more dramatic than it needs to be. I like you, and I think you just might be the most beautiful man I've ever seen, but I won't force you to want me. It would suck to have to dive back into the pool of ridiculousness that is the dating world, especially afterexperiencing you, but I would do it. I’d rather go back than stand here as the reason you crumble. All you have to do is say that you don't want me. Say it, and we’ll walk out of this office on our separate ways. We’ll act like none of it ever happened. No hard feelings. I promise. Just say it. Tell me you don't want me.”
When Rome finally looks up, I think I see tears in his eyes. The sight of it vexes me, but he doesn't let them linger. He swallows hard as he looks me in the eye, his resolve and will returning right in front of me.
“If I said that,” he begins, subtly shaking his head. “I’d be lying through my teeth, Nia. I do want you. I want you more than I should, which is why all of this is so hard. I’m not supposed to crave you the way I do, but my body aches for yours. Even more than that, I want to learn everything about who you are as a person. I want us to get to know each other and spend as much time together as possible. And I want to fucking kiss you more than I can put into words right now.”
I let out an exhale, surprised to learn that now I'm the one who is breathing hard. The attraction between us is too strong for me to fight, so I don't even try.
