Page 10 of Dominate
“Yoo-hoo!” a female voice echoes down the hall. “It’s me!”
“That’s just Freya,” Sloan states as she places her hands on my arm and moves to stand beside me again. “We’re in the foyer!”
Seconds later, Freya’s form fills the hallway entry. She lifts her eyebrows at me with a smile. “Well, hiya, everyone!”
“Hi, Freya. You remember Gareth,” Sloan states.
“Of course!” Freya beams, her eyes unusually wide. “Nice to see you again. So bloody sorry to hear about what happened at your home. I hope the coppers catch the bastards who did that to you. I can’t imagine the state you all must be in.”
I nod and exhale, realising I’m still a bit tense from everything. The adrenaline rush hasn’t really allowed me to fully process all that’s happened yet. Clearing my throat, I reply, “Thanks, Freya. It’s nice to see you again. This is my father, Vaughn, and my sister, Vi.”
Freya turns her smile to both of them. “Oh yes, of course. I saw them in the waiting room at the hospital, but it’s nice to meet you both officially. Welcome!”
“Freya lives in the guest house out back,” Sloan explains and eyes me nervously. “We’re colleagues but more like family.”
“So you both work from here?” I ask as I glance into the dining room and realise that Freya is the flatmate Sloan has mentioned before.
Freya replies, “Indeedy, we do! I was just nipping in to get some work done, but I’ll put the kettle on and make us all some tea before lunch is ready. Nothing settles nerves like a good cup of tea.”
“Tea sounds lovely,” Vi says with a smile. “Can I help?”
“Of course! Mr. Harris, would you like to join us? You’re staying for lunch, right?”
My father looks to me in question, but Freya grabs his arm and pulls him down the hallway before he can argue. He’s completely out of his element. Hell, even I’m a bit out of my element. When the three of them are out of sight, I exhale with relief.
“How are you feeling? Do you want to sit down?” Sloan turns to point toward the living area. “I can turn the telly on. Or maybe that will hurt your head? If you just want to sit, I’ll go get you some tea.”
She takes a step to help me walk again, but without hesitation, I shove her over to the wall and crush my lips to hers. She lets out a tiny yelp of surprise, then softens against me as I cradle her face in my hands and press my body to hers.
Slowly, her lips part, allowing my tongue to dip in and taste her. Really taste her. I’m smelly and in desperate need of a shower, but I don’t give a toss. I need to feel her in my arms. Taste the sweetness of her lips. Inhale the familiar scent of her that used to remind me of memories I’d long wanted to forget but somehow crave more than ever now. I hold her tightly and let the realness of her sink completely into my groggy head.
In the past twenty-four hours, I’ve gone from feeling euphoric because she was by my side, to being turned on because she was going to give herself to me, to being terrified beyond belief because I thought I lost her. I need to feel her in my arms and against my tongue to reassure myself that we’re still us. We still make sense, even under the most horrid of circumstances.
Sloan’s hands wrap around my waist as our lips move against each other. It’s a soft, warm kiss. It’s familiar because she tastes the same, yet somehow it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
My dick thumps in my lounge pants, and I press my groin against her stomach so she knows the effect she’s having on me.
“Good God, Gareth,” she croaks, separating our lips and sagging into me. “I thought you were supposed to be injured.”
My lips drag up to her forehead as I tuck her head beneath my chin. “This is the best medicine I’ve received so far.”
She gazes up at me, her golden eyes wary as I finger her hair and glance at the bruise on her cheekbone that’s turned a dark shade of purple overnight. “That looks bloody painful.”
She glances up to the stitches on my temple that are covered by a clear waterproof bandage. “Yours looks worse.”
I shake my head. “Have I mentioned I’m going to kill those fuckers?”
She smiles. “No you won’t, because a pretty boy like you won’t last a day in prison.”
“Pretty boy?” I bark out a laugh. “I’ve been called many things, but pretty is not one of them.”
With a soft huff, she presses her head against my chest. “I’m glad you’re here,” she mumbles into my sweater.
“Me too.” I tighten my hold around her and look up toward the stairs. “Want to show me around?”
Her brow furrows slightly. “Like a tour?”
I nod. “Yes. I seem to recall you demanding a shirtless tour of my place, so this only seems fair.”
