Page 2 of Blind Spot
A low hum started in my belly as Dominic pulled the towel over his curly hair. It vibrated with intensity and turned into an aggressive throb between my legs as every muscle in his body drew taut. The throb turned into an ache that forced a whimper from me when the towel around his waist bounced happily. And when he dragged the towel over his face, my heart beat out of sync as hooded, sexy, russet-colored eyes looked back up at me, and full lips turned up in a smile.
“Hey, girl. What took you so long?”
“My mom wanted me to clean the kitchen first.”
He bobbed his head and tossed his towel into the clothes hamper as he made his way to the drawer. My eyes dropped to that tight behind of his, those powerful-looking legs, and his broad back that rippled with more muscles.
When he turned around with his underwear in his hands, I clenched my thighs tight. Dominic had been my best friend since we were both eight, but these days, he had me thinking thoughts that I should not think. I couldn’t tell you when my thoughts of him being the big brother I never had turned to wanting him as my boyfriend.
His manhood swung happily between his legs, and I found myself watching its slightly crooked curve.
“So wassup? What did you need to holler at me about?”
We saw each other almost daily, but we hadn’t had plans to visit each other today. I’d been with him all day yesterday, even before my birthday celebration.
When he pulled his underwear up and covered his third leg, it broke the trance that I was in.
“I uhm . . . I. Well, never mind,” I replied, licking my upper lip.
Dominic sat down on the bed in front of me, gripped my chin, and held my head up. “Hey, this is me. You know that we can talk to each other about anything. Don’t hold back, a’ight?”
I lowered my gaze and inhaled deeply.
“Okay?” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
“So spit it out.”
I fiddled with my hands and stared down at them as I spoke. Dominic got up and moved around the room, grabbing clothes from his massive walk-in closet and a pair of the latest Nikaj gym shoes.
“We’ve been best friends for years.”
“Right.”
“And you’ve always had my back through the roughest points of my life, including my parents’ divorce.”
“And I always will, baby girl,” he replied, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.
“You’ve told me repeatedly how some of these dummies out here aren’t good enough for me, and you didn’t want me getting caught up with some of these knuckleheads who try to get with me.”
“And they ain’t,” he replied, turning that coppery, warm gaze on me.
“But I’ve never really wanted to be with them anyway. Not like that. I don’t . . . don’t have feelings for the boys like they have for me.”
He paused from tying his shoe and looked up at me. I chewed my bottom lip, trying to figure out how to say the next words, but then he spoke. “You like girls, Charly?”
“What?”
“Are you gay? I mean, it’s cool if that’s what you’re feeling, then I promise not to judge you. I might not understand that shit, but?—”
“No! I don’t get down like that, Dom.” The conversation wasn’t going the way that I intended at all. I wasn’t sure how to get it back on track.
“I’m not judging if you are. I mean, I know that you’re still a virgin, and that’s a great thing, but if you?—”
I shoved his shoulder and mean-mugged him. “I said that I don’t! I don’t like girls! I don’t like the boys who flirt with me! I like you, Dom! Okay? It’s you who I want to be my boyfriend. You, who I want to share my first kiss with. You, who I want to take my virginity. I loveyou, Dom.”
The last sentence came out much softer and less aggressive than everything else that I’d spoken until that point. It came out like a whine and was filled with exasperation.
