Bad Boy Dom (4 page)

I gritted my teeth, leaning over my desk in frustration and tugging at handfuls of my hair. I only had five days left at my dad’s house before leaving, and each one was going slower than the last. After the wedding, Dad and Sandy left for their honeymoon almost immediately. “We’ll be in touch!” They promised, giggling like teenagers and necking in the doorway. I felt my stomach turn as Dom came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder, clenching down hard, when I didn’t wave at our parents as they left.

“Just you and me, little sis,” he’d teased, walking away.

The first couple of days passed in relative solitude, as we ignored each other, carefully. I stayed in my room, working on my application essays for med school, and Dom did…. whatever. I’d heard him coming in late the night before, and now at 11am, he’d decided to wake up and start blaring music from his room.

With a sigh, I shoved back from my desk and stood up, stalking out of my room and heading down the hallway.

“Do you mind?” I asked, leaning in the doorway. Dom eyed me and mimed being unable to hear because the music was too loud. I rolled my eyes and stepped into his room, looking for the stereo and turning down the music.

“Wow, little sis,” Domenic teased, folding his arms over his muscular chest. “Have a headache? Too much drinking alone last night?”

I sighed, pushing a hand into the mop of tangled hair at the back of my neck. “No, Domenic, I wasn’t. I’m working on my med school applications, and I’m starting to get a migraine.”

A brief look of sympathy crossed his face and I tried hard to ignore it. “I’m sorry,” he offered, stepping across the room. I watched as he grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over his head, ruffling his head. “I can actually just get out of the house if you want a few hours alone.”

Looking out the window, I saw rain lashing the glass and lightning glowing in the distance. I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s fine, it looks terrible out.”

“Have you eaten?” He asked, his tone sounding lighter. I shook my head.

“Not yet,” I paused, swallowing. My stomach did feel pretty empty, now that Dom had mentioned it. “I was going to eat after I finished my essay.”

“Take a break,” he encouraged, giving me a cocky smile. “Let’s make some lunch now. You’ll do a better job on your essays if you’ve eaten, I think.”

“It’s okay,” I protested, just as my stomach let out a loud growl. “I don’t need to eat right now.”

Domenic laughed, grabbing a baseball off the top of his dresser and tossing it in his hands. He led the way out of his room, down the hallway past mine, and then down the stairs. Leading me into the kitchen, he asked, “So, what would Michelle like to eat?”

“Ugh,” I grumbled. “I’m not even sure what my dad has laying around.”

“We can order in?” Dom suggested, leafing through the coupons laying on my dad’s counters. “Although it looks like these are pretty old.”

I wrinkled my nose. “There aren’t a lot of good things around here, remember?”

“Well, do you want to go out?”

I gaped, my stomach turning to ice. Domenic must have seen the panic on my face because he held up his hands in surrender, looking guilty.

“Sorry, Michelle. I get that you hate me now and all,” he trailed off, breaking out into a cocky grin. I felt rage surge through my body. I wanted to punch him in his stupid, arrogant face!

I rolled my eyes, turning around to stomp back upstairs.

“Michelle, wait,” I heard Dom pleading behind me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like such a jerk.”

“Yeah, didn’t your mom say something about you growing up?” I spat, feeling bitter. Dom caught my shoulder and pulled me around, effortlessly. I was again reminded of how petite I was in comparison to his muscular size, and despite my anger, I felt warm arousal spike through my body.

“Well, she’s wrong,” he replied darkly. “I haven’t grown up nearly as much as I should have.”

He sounded so contrite that I almost believed him. In my head, I realized it couldn’t always be like this. If it stayed like this, I’d never want to be around my dad. And after thinking about how much he’d done for me growing up, I couldn’t handle that possibility. My dad had always gone above and beyond to make sure I was safe and happy. And to repay him by getting out of his life when he got remarried? I couldn’t force myself to be that selfish.

“Okay,” I conceded, turning around and facing Dom. “We can go out.”

Half an hour later, we were at the Olive Garden. In a painful memory of that fateful afternoon, I’d changed before leaving the house into jeans and a sweater. Just before I left my bedroom, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My heart-shaped face looked slightly less crooked than it had when I was younger, and my light brown hair had darkened into a rich chestnut, but I still felt so average. And that sweater added, at least 20lbs! The only other thing that I had to wear was a tank top, and with a pain in my chest, I tugged it on, arranging my cleavage.

The silence at our table was painful, and after we had ordered, Dom leaned back in his chair. He laced his fingers together, looking at me in amusement. I bit my lip.

“What?” I asked, sounding more petulant than I’d intended. He laughed, throwing back his head and showing perfect, gleaming teeth.

“You’re just so uptight, Michelle,” he said, looking at me. “You used to loosen up sometimes, but not anymore.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t trying to get into med school then, either,” I grumbled, flushing.

“I know,” Dom said, sounding more serious. “I know things have changed a lot.”

“They have,” I agreed with a sigh. “How did you become an artist?”

“Michelle,” Dom said, looking wounded. “I’ve always loved art.”

“I know,” I huffed. “But weren’t you uh, going to Arizona State on a baseball scholarship?”

His face darkened. “I got injured in my sophomore year, and the Tommy John surgery didn’t work.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I said carefully, looking at him across the table. For once, it seemed like all of his arrogance was gone. He looked almost vulnerable.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said dismissively, breaking my gaze. “It was a long time ago, and it’s nothing you need to worry about. Baseball was toxic. I didn’t like who I was when I played, and when I hung around those people.”

“Why?” I furrowed my brow. “You always hung out with those people.” I wanted to press him. I wanted him to admit that he’d been wrong when he’d taken my virginity and then run away, leaving me to hate him. I knew it was petty; who cared about virginity after you lost it? But I couldn’t shake the anger I felt at him for abandoning me, after years and years of pretending to be my friend. In a way, knowing he didn’t care about me made it easier. That way, I could pretend I had never cared about him, either.

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” he replied, playing with the paper covering the table. “And you’ve heard all of this before, anyway.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said lightly, staring at him. “You’ve never told me that you felt like a shitty person.”

“That’s because I never did feel like a shitty person, Michelle. You know that. I was remorseless about things for years. And now, I realize.”

“That’s a great apology, thanks,” I muttered, taking a huge gulp of the shitty house wine.

“I thought you were going to try to get along with me?” Dom tried, breaking a breadstick in half and popping it in his mouth. “On account of we’re family now.”

“Fine,” I seethed, angrily chewing on a piece of breadstick. “Why did you become an artist?”

“I wanted to feel like I was doing something worthwhile with my life,” he replied, with a smile. “I wanted to do something really wonderful.”

“What do you do?” I asked dryly, somehow not believing it. Art world pussy had to be just as gratifying as jock pussy.

“I paint,” he said, looking across the table at me. “I’d love to paint you.”

“I can see it now,” I mused, dreamily. “A demon with horns and a tail?”

“No,” he said, seriously. “A beautiful woman who’s going to be very lonely in life.”

Offended, I snapped my head up. “And why is that?”

“If you keep pissing off the people who paint you,” he pointed out, smirking. I blushed, against my better judgment.

“You can’t paint me, though,” I protested, looking down. “I can’t imagine I’d be a good model.”

“This isn’t the 18
th
century,” Dom teased. “I could do it from a picture.”

“I’m not giving you one,” I narrowed my eyes, making at a face at him.

“Facebook,” he sang in a quiet voice, looking at me. I glared.

“How long have you been painting?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. Dom leaned back in his chair, grinning. He still looked every inch the yummy jock sex god, and I had to consciously avoid staring at his strong jaw and sensual lips.

“Since I was little,” he replied. “Don’t you remember?”

“Maybe when we were kids, but not when we were in high school,” I answered.

“My mom did it when I was in utero, and she said that’s why it rubbed off.” Dom swallowed, looking down at his plate. The food had come twenty minutes ago and sat untouched since then; in the midst of arguing, I’d forgotten my hunger.

I poked at my plate, looking up at him. “You’ve never talked a lot about your mom before,” I added, blushing.

“You know we weren’t really as close when I was younger,” he replied, taking a forkful of pasta into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. I was unable to tear my eyes away from his strong jaw. “She left my dad when she was pregnant with me, and I was always sorta pissed off at her about that. I thought she robbed me of the chance of having a real dad, and I felt like I had to act out in order to get attention from her and from everyone else I knew. I didn’t really have a model of how to treat women, so I treated them like shit, and no one said anything because I was good at baseball.” He laughed bitterly, taking a long gulp of his beer. “I know I never laid that on you before, and it’s heavy. It’s not an excuse for why I was such an asshole, but it’s something.”

I hesitated, swallowing before I opened my mouth. “It’s fine, Dom. It’s okay.” I smiled at him, shrugging. “Maybe we can be friends now.”

“I hope so,” he replied, taking a massive bite of his dinner.

I felt weird inside; part of me still wanted to hate Dom, but after hearing about his resentment towards his mom, my anger cooled. It was still no excuse for how he had treated me, and probably lots of other girls, but it was something.

“I’m glad you told me,” I shared. “That means a lot.”

“Well hey, I’m the new mature Domenic Thomas,” he bragged, finishing his glass of beer and waving the waitress over for a refill. “You can trust me.”

“Michelle!” Domenic called from the hallway. “You’re going to be late!”

“I’ll be fine!” I yelled from my room, tugging on my jacket. “Don’t worry about me!”

Dom was hustling me out of the house to the movies for some reason; I couldn’t think of why, but he’d specifically asked me if I could leave him alone for a few hours. When I’d offered to hole up in my room, he’d told me it would be better if I left the house. The idea made me kind of uncomfortable; he’d only been living there for a few days, but then I realized he would probably be alone in the house lots of times when I wasn’t there. He did live closer, after all.

It was cold outside, and I hated being alone with my thoughts. When I was with Dom, I somehow managed to get past most of my anger. But as soon as I was alone again, angry thoughts of him from the past reared up and bit me. I couldn’t stomach the immense hurt and betrayal that I felt when he’d left, and now it was going to be harder than ever. With a sinking feeling, I realized that sooner or later, Dom would probably get married or, at least start bringing girlfriends home for holidays. Dealing with that redheaded slut at the wedding was bad enough; I couldn’t wait to see the types of girls he’d bring home. In high school, he’d favored the baby-faced slutty type. I shuddered, imagining a horrid Christmas morning with Dom and his girlfriend canoodling in the corner while I mechanically tore the wrapping paper off gifts. It was a horrible thought, but probably unavoidable at this point.
But he said that he’s changed
, I thought, pursing my lips. I wasn’t sure if I believe all of the promises Dom had made me over the past 24 hours. I wanted to believe him, I really did. But then, if I believed him that would mean letting go of all the anger I’d carried around for so long. And honestly, I wasn’t sure that I was ready to do that. Every time I saw him, I thought about the past. I thought about all of the pain I’d carried around for years. But I also thought of how I’d “loved” him for so long. He was my first crush; I always dreamed about him. Not even older guys in high school could distract me; none of them had the same magic. Thinking about this made me feel like such an idiot, especially because I wasn’t the only one to be so affected by his charms. Every week, he had a new girl.

It sounds weird to admit, but seeing Dom with lots of other girls didn’t bother me the way that it should have. I always got nervous when we were hanging out and he’d mention a girl a lot, but it was never anyone serious. And seeing him with a girl… well, that was almost a relief, because I knew it would be over soon. Dom loved the thrill of the chase, and once he got what he wanted, he moved on. Remembering it made me roll my eyes. I couldn’t believe how immature he’d been, but his arrogance was obviously sexy. I couldn’t believe he’d gotten away with it for so long.

At the movies, I bought a ticket to something I’d never heard of and went in alone. There was no one else in the theater; I bought a popcorn and soda at the concessions stand and sat in the last row. As the lights in the theater dimmed, my mind drifted off to Domenic again, and all of the ways he’d managed to torment me throughout the years.

“Hey Shell-belle,” Dom teased, draping an arm around me as we walked home. We were both 16, and junior prom was coming up in a few weeks. Every time I talked to Dom, I held out hope that he’d ask me. He hadn’t asked anyone yet, and I had butterflies in my stomach when I imagined the words coming straight from his mouth. Now, my palms were sweaty and twitching, and I nervously tossed my hair over my shoulder.

“Yeah?” I called, looking up at him. Dom grinned and I could smell a minty scent coming from his mouth. It made me nervous that my own breath was bad.

“Are you going to prom?” He asked lazily, staring up at the sky. The days were finally starting to get warmer, but I shivered, feeling his arm on the back of my neck. I stammered, blushing, shaking his arm off with an awkward movement. “Hey, tell me,” he said, fixing me with an intense gaze from his steel-blue eyes.

“Um,” I stammered. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Me neither,” he said casually, pushing a hand through his blonde locks. “It might be lame.”

I cringed, not wanting him to think that I was lame, too. “I guess,” I said in a dubious tone. “I think most people are going, though.”

“Have you ever been to a school dance?” Dom laughed, throwing his head back and showing off his perfectly tan neck. I blushed, staring at the pulse showing on this throat.

“I went to a homecoming dance my freshman yeah,” I admitted, kicking some asphalt.

“And was it fun?” Dom dragged out in a sing-song tone, cocking his head at me.

“Not really,” I said, looking up and smiling at him.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about ditching prom,” he said, leaning in confidentially. “Ryan’s parents are going out of town that weekend, so he might throw a killer party.”

I gulped; Ryan was one of Dom’s baseball team friends. They were both like sex gods in our high school, Ryan was the gorgeous brunette to Dom’s blonde. They were always together, with a huge group of girls trailing behind. Like Dom, Ryan had a letter jacket for baseball and like Dom, I never saw him wear it. The only people who ever wore those letter jackets were the girls that Dom and Ryan dated that week. As much as I thought it was gross, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be one of those girls. I always had.

“That would be fun,” I said casually, pushing strands of light brown hair away from my face. “He’s nice.”

“He’s not nice,” Dom chuckled. “He’s a total player, but I have to give him props. He’s amazing. He can score any pussy he wants.” I flushed, thinking about Ryan naked. My mouth felt dry. Dom looked at me and colored slightly, looking apologetic. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m not used to being around you.”

“It’s okay, really,” I offered, embarrassed that I’d blushed. “It didn’t bother me.”

Dom stopped in his tracks and suddenly looked at me. Like, he really looked at me; I could see his eyes scanning up and down my body. Even though I was wearing jeans and a loose peasant top, I still felt really exposed. There was no way he could see my body through my clothes, but the idea still made me tremble. He almost never paid attention to me like this, and I liked it.

“The idea of you in a prom dress is something, though,” he mused, his eyes locked on my chest. “You’ve really grown up Michelle.”

“I’m 16,” I protested, trying to look more grown up and less like the brat who Dom used to play with. “I am growing up.”

Dom smiled, tapping his fingers on his lips. He laughed slightly and finally tore his eyes away from me, starting to walk. I furrowed my brow. “What?” I asked, looking at him dead-on.

“Nothing,” he said, smiling again. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dom,” I started, exasperated with him. “You always try to hurt my feelings.”

“Michelle!” He pretended to be shocked. Sometimes I wonder how he fooled anyone. “I’d never! And I’d never right now… but you look really sexy right now.”

“Thanks,” I blushed, biting my lower lip. Dom stared at me.

We started to walk again, in silence this time. I kept sneaking occasional looks at Dom, hoping he would say something else nice about me, but instead, he started talking about school, and Ryan, and baseball, and finally girls. He had been dating this girl Stephanie until a few weeks ago, and I still saw her crying in the bathroom between every period. She was gorgeous, and blonde, and rich, and skinny, and I wondered how anyone could get bored with her, even Dom.

“So what about Stephanie?” I asked cautiously, once we were almost home. “You’re not even going to ask her?”

“She’s a dumb twat,” he replied, raking a hand through his hair again. “I am definitely, definitely not ever going to ask her out again.”

“Why not?” I asked, unable to keep some of the hope from my voice. Maybe he really was going to ask me! He’d dated through most of the school at this point; Stephanie had been one of the last girls to resist him.

Domenic laughed again, shortly. “Because I’m not, don’t be so nosy Michelle.”

“Then why did you go out with her for six weeks? That’s really long for you,” I observed, suddenly curious. Dom blushed. He looked at me, shook his head, then looked away. “What?” I demanded. “Tell me!”

“She really liked to do something,” he said slyly, a blush creeping up his neck from the collar of his jacket. “That most girls wouldn’t like to do.”

My mind was filled with weird pornographic images of Stephanie. I furrowed my brow. “What?” I asked again, suddenly not sure I wanted to know the answer.

“Well,” Dom started, twining his fingers together and shoving them in his pockets. “She’s really afraid of getting pregnant.”

“Yeah, I would be too,” I laughed. “My dad would kill me.”

“Her dad is youth group leader at church,” Dom informed me. “It would be even worse than that for her.”

“Ouch,” I reflected, kicking at a pebble as we walked.

Dom cleared his throat. “And… you know, there’s a way you can have sex without worrying about getting pregnant.”

“I know about condoms, Dom,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s not really that bad.”

“No,” he said pointedly, looking away. “She really likes it in the butt.”

“What?” I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. Dom looked at me, embarrassed.

“Do I have to explain that, too?” He asked me in a condescending voice. I nodded ‘no,’ my skin hot and flushed. “Good,” he finished, stretching. “So that’s why we dated for so long. But she’s stupid, so I’m bored with her now.”

Even though I was too embarrassed to admit to Dom that I didn’t really know anything about anal sex, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. Once we got home, I took a shower and tried to get through my homework. I had two essays and a bunch of math problems to do and no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, it wasn’t coming. All I could think about was Dom and Stephanie, having anal sex. Does he have to use his hands? I wondered, frowning. The whole idea confused me; I couldn’t even think of why a guy would find that sexy. It seemed really gross and weird, and thinking about it for too long made me feel weird and squirmy. I remember my dad worked late that night so he wasn’t going to be home for dinner. He always left me money to order a pizza if that happened, and it usually did a couple of times per week. I ordered my dinner and sat in the living room, watching TV. Normally, I’d scroll through the channel guide and avoid all the porn stations, but today my curiosity was getting the best of me. The titles alone were enough to put me out; I couldn’t get past anyone who would find ‘Anal Cockteases 7’ appealing.

That night, when I went to bed, I was still thinking about what Dom had told me. I couldn’t imagine how Stephanie felt; in addition to probably feeling heartbroken, I knew that Dom was probably telling a lot of other people about her secret. The thought made me deeply uncomfortable, but I was still happy that it meant Dom was single right now.

I had a dream that Dom and I were together, and he told me that we were going to have anal sex. I was scared, but he cuddled me fully clothed and told me that he loved me. I was sitting on his lap wearing tight jeans and a backless top and we were kissing so passionately that I could actually feel the pressure from his skin on me in the dream. He kissed me until I felt so turned on that I was begging for attention, and then he slowly undressed me and looked at my naked body. In my dream, I was much hotter, more than usual and my breasts were bigger. I loved the way Dom was looking at them and touching them. His attention was 100% focused on me, and the feeling was so powerful. The way he was touching me was making me feel really sexy, and I got on all fours, arching my back and sticking my ass really far into the air. Dom traced a finger between the cheeks of my ass, making me wiggle and squirm. It felt like he was doing something that he shouldn’t, and for some reason that thought turned me on more than anything else. Dom spread my legs wide and lightly ran his fingers all over my pussy, making me wriggle my hips and moan. I heard the unbuckling of his jeans and a soft ‘whoosh’ as they fell to the floor. Then, I felt warm hands on the cheeks of my ass, kneading and grabbing. The way it felt was really stimulating and I moaned, begging Dom to take me.

“What’s that, Steph?” I heard him ask, giving me a hard spank and making me moan.