Before We Fall (15 page)

I’ve got to face the facts, and they’re not just about me. They’re about Dominic too.

He isn’t the “friend with benefits” kind of guy.

He’s the kind of guy who gets fallen for,
hard
.

“Do you need to use the restroom or anything?” he asks me. “It’s probably nicer on here than it is in the airport.”

That’s no lie. I nod and climb out of the sofa, only to realize that Amy is following me to the back. When we get there, I pause.

“Do you want to go first?” I ask her hesitantly, because she’s looking at me so oddly. She shakes her head.

“No. I just wanted to tell you something.”

Oh, great. Here it comes.

“And that is?”

She smirks. “Dominic will never fuck you. So I know you’re walking around thinking you’re god’s gift right now, but just know that he’ll never fuck you. He’s probably secretly gay or something.”

I stare at her. “Or he just didn’t want to fuck you,” I suggest firmly. “You think just because someone doesn’t want to fuck you, it means they’re gay? Jesus.”

I turn away, but she grabs my arm with talon-like fingers. “Dominic likes to play games. He’ll string you along until he’s done with you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She smirks again. I roll my eyes.

“Oh yeah, out of the goodness of your heart, I’m sure.”

Amy stares at me, her eyes as hard as glass. “He’ll get you to do more perverted things than you ever thought possible,” she says icily. “And you’ll do them all because you’ll want to please him. Because you think that you’re proving yourself to him. But in the end, it won’t be worth it. Because he’ll never be anything more than a perverted asshole.”

I close the bathroom door in her face and sink onto the toilet, trying to collect myself. What the fuck was that? Why would she tell me such a thing? I mean, she’s a catty bitch, but seriously. If Dominic didn’t want to sleep with her, then he simply didn’t want to sleep with her.

The only thing is… the only thing that gives me pause is… that he hasn’t slept with
me
yet either. I’ve flat-out asked him to and he said
not yet.

That begs the question: What the hell is going on with him?

He’s not gay. I know that. I can feel it in the way he looks at me. There’s also nothing physically wrong with him. He can definitely get it up. I’ve felt his erection pressed against me too many times to count.

Why then doesn’t he want to actually use those perfectly good erections?

Or maybe he does. Maybe Amy’s right and he just wants to use them to do perverted things. This whole making me come in front of Amy thing was pretty kinky. Finger-fucking me on the Ferris wheel was kinky. Going down on me in the supply closet was kinky.

He
is
perverted.

There’s no question about that. The only question is
how
perverted? And why? Something seems to scream out to me that there’s something really, really wrong with him.

Which is exactly what Amy is trying to imply.

It’s either that, or he just enjoys playing fucked-up games.

She’s implying that, too.

I take out the bullet, stick it in my pocket, and wash my hands, and when I go back out Amy’s already gone, deplaned with her stupid little yappy dog. I have to admit, that’s a relief. I don’t want to deal with her again. I know a million fans would love to be around her right now, but that’s because they don’t know exactly how much of a bitch she really is. It’s unfathomable unless you witness it firsthand.

Since we don’t have to traipse through the airport like normal people, we are out and into a car within a few minutes, sitting in the back of a limo while it drives us toward Dominic’s house.

“This is the first time I’ve been in California,” I mention absently, trying to be casual, trying to hide the unsettled things that I’m thinking about Dominic now as I stare out the tinted windows at the suburban landscape rolling past. It seems to be dry here, with only a few specks of green. Dominic glances up from his phone.

“Really? How is that possible?”

I laugh. “It’s very possible. I’ve never had a reason to come out here before.”

Dominic shakes his head but doesn’t comment. I stare at the back of the driver’s head for a while and ponder telling Dom what Amy had said, but decide not to. What’s the point in it? I know him well enough to know that he’s not going to give me a straight answer, and he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by her or her implications anyway.

The ride to Hollywood Hills doesn’t take long, and I have to admit that driving into the exclusive community sends my tummy rolling. I watch out the window, wondering who I might see stepping out of a mansion. And then reality hits me, and I remember that I’m sitting in a limo with one of the most famous actors on the planet.

Reality check.

I stare at him for a minute, at the way he’s so casually graceful in the dark of the limo, his legs sprawled in front of him.

“Cool trick with the vibrator,” I tell him. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

He rolls his eyes. “How is that even possible? You work for Saffron and you don’t know what a bullet is?”

I shake my head. “I’m a waitress, not an escort, dickhead.” He grins.

“Fair enough. Are you still wearing it?”

I take it out of my pocket and hand it to him. “No. I didn’t trust you not to use it again.”

Dominic laughs. “Smart,” he nods. “Very smart.” He slips it into his pocket and stares out the window. “We’re almost there,” he tells me, gesturing toward a house at the end of the street, nestled onto the side of a huge hill.

I almost gasp when I see the house.

“Holy shit. Your house is even bigger than Sin’s,” I exclaim, pressing my nose to the window. And it is. It’s enormous and sophisticated and modern. Everything I should’ve known it would be.

Dominic grins, satisfied with my answer. “Regardless of what Sin says, everything about me is bigger than his,” he announces. I burst out laughing as I get out of the limo.

“Well,” I answer, still giggling, “I’m sure you’ve had no complaints.”

That was me fishing… trying to get him to say something,
anything
about women he might have slept with before. But he doesn’t say a word.

With a sigh, I stare upward at the house looming above us.

It’s majestic. And overwhelming.

“Do you have staff here, or do you somehow take care of this whole thing by yourself?”

Dom shakes his head. “I have housekeepers that come in once a week or so, but that’s it. I like my privacy. I do have a security detail, but they don’t live here. They only come with me when I go out. This is a gated community, so I don’t need them when I’m at home.”

I exhale slowly as we walk in the door, my heels clicking loudly on the stone floor of the foyer.

“I can’t believe you have such a huge house all for yourself,” I marvel as we wind our way up the curved staircase. He leads me to a bedroom and opens the door.

I pause in the doorway. “I get my own room?” I raise an eyebrow. “I wasn’t expecting that.” I was expecting to sleep in his bed.

He stares at me, his gaze hiding a million things. “I thought you’d want privacy.”

“That’s considerate of you,” I murmur as I walk past him and into my lush quarters. I can’t complain. It’s gorgeous… from the sunken marble tub to the fantastic view of the surrounding hills.

“If you need anything, just ask,” Dominic tells me graciously. “I’m going to leave you for a bit to freshen up while I take a shower. Want to meet on the veranda in an hour for dinner? The sun will be going down and you’ll want to see that.”

I nod and he leaves as I drop onto the bed in a heap. All of a sudden, everything here is overwhelming. This mansion, Amy’s bitchy attitude and her ugly implications… all of it. Including Dominic and his games.

His games.

Is he playing a game?

If he is, it’s clear that I don’t know the rules.

“Why are you acting so weird?” I demand as Dominic sticks a bite of cheese in his mouth. He stares at me.

“Am I supposed to swallow without chewing?” He raises an eyebrow and I roll my eyes.

“You know what I’m talking about.” I sigh.

I gesture around me with my arm, at the fancy picnic Dominic had delivered from a catering service, at the romantic setup with the candles and the twinkling overhead lights, at the wine… at the way Dominic is all the way across the veranda from me. Earlier, when I had gotten up and sat next to him, he had waited a few minutes, then moved away again.

“What the hell, Dominic?”

He stares at me bemused. “What were you expecting, Jacey?”

The way he says my name annoys me, it’s so fluid and smooth and detached. It’s like he doesn’t care if I’m upset, if I’m annoyed—or actually, it’s like he doesn’t care about anything at all. It frustrates me, because more and more I know that I need him to.

“You know what I was expecting.” I snap. “You’re confusing, and I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose as part of some fucked-up game. You wanted me out here with you, and you even brought a sex toy onto the plane to make me squirm, but now that we’re here, in the privacy of your home, you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m in a separate room, you’re sitting across the veranda from me… I don’t understand you.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Again, he raises an eyebrow. “You’re upset because I’ve brought you out here and haven’t fucked you yet? I don’t fuck just anyone, Jacey.”

His eyes are hard now, dark.

“Or are you upset because you don’t understand me? Because if that’s it, trust me, nobody does, so you’re not in the minority.”

I stare back at him, not sure what to address first. “Do
you
understand you? Do
you
even know what you’re doing?”

He shrugs, unconcerned. “Not really. I have no idea what I’m doing here with you, if you want me to be honest.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I tell him. “Amy told me some ugly things on the plane. She said that you’re a pervert who likes playing games. Is that true?”

Dominic’s green eyes darken. “What do
you
think?”

I shake my head. “No. Don’t throw this back on me. Is it true?”

He shrugs now, trying to seem unconcerned, but something tells me that he’s more bothered than he cares to admit. “It’s all relative, I suppose,” he says calmly. “Amy’s a bitch. I didn’t play fucked-up games with her. She knew from the beginning what I wanted, and she only got pissed when I wouldn’t give her what
she
wanted. As far as being a pervert, I’m more perverted than some, less than others.”

I stare at him. “Is that why I’m here? Because you want to do kinky things to me?”

He shakes his head, his eyes darkening even more. “Jacey, I’ve wanted to do kinky things to you from the beginning, but that’s not the point. I want you here against my better judgment. But now that you’re here, I’m not sure what to do with you.”

That instantly annoys me. The way he said it was so condescending.
I’m not sure what to do with you.
Like I’m a thing. Or a toy. Something he has complete control over. “Oh, so you beckoned to me and I came?” I stand up, annoyed, throwing my napkin onto the large ottoman in front of me. “Fuck you. You don’t crook your finger at me and I come running. I’m here because I like you. Period. But you don’t get to play games with me, Dominic. After what I told you about the kinds of guys I’ve struggled with, it pisses me off that you would even try. It’s not fair.”

I stalk away past the shimmering pool, back through the glass doors of his house, but when I reach the doorway, he has caught up to me and he grabs my arm.

“Stay,” he urges me quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to play games. I’m trying to be honest with you. It’s a new concept for me, and I’m probably fucking it up. But I do want you to stay.”

I look up at him, staring into his eyes, and I find sincerity there. He wasn’t trying to upset me or control me.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have let Amy get under my skin.”

The planes of his face are angled, and the moonlight reflects off of them, and suddenly I just want to run my fingers along his cheekbone. I don’t know why.

But I do it anyway.

I trace the outline of his cheek, trailing my fingers along his jaw. I feel his jaw flex as he stares down at me, his eyes thoughtful.

“I don’t understand you,” I finally whisper.

“Neither do I,” he admits. “But does it matter? Do you still want to be here?”

I do. I shouldn’t want to, but I do.

I let him lead me back to the veranda, back to the cushioned chaises and ottomans, where he sits down next to me and watches me, thoughtful now. This is the first time I’ve seen this side of him… this introspective side. I tell him that, and he smiles.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I don’t hang around with people much?” he asks, picking up a cracker and smearing pâté on it before handing it to me. “I don’t like gatherings, unless it’s with my family. And now… well, with Cris dating Fiona, I won’t be going to many of them any time soon.”

I take the cracker and settle back into my seat, watching him as I eat.

He’s so graceful and sophisticated, even though he’s not much older than I am. I know those things, his statistics, because I looked them up online. He’s twenty-four. He’s 6’2”. He’s right-handed. Dark hair, green eyes. But those are just things, facts. I don’t know what he
thinks.

“Why are you so upset about your sister dating Cris?” I ask hesitantly. “I know you don’t really want to talk about it, but I’d like to know. I hate seeing how much it bothers you. You love your family. It must be something huge to make you stay away from them.”

Dominic tenses now, his leg crossed tighter than it was, and he looks away, out over the valley.

“You’re right. I really don’t want to talk about it,” he finally answers slowly. “I’m sorry that you do, but I can’t. It’s something that happened a long time ago and I honestly just can’t talk about it.”

His face is filled with pain and vulnerability, a unique combination that I haven’t seen there before. I reach up and brush the hair away from his forehead.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You don’t have to. I just… it makes me sad to see you upset. I’d like to try and help you figure it out, if I can.”

“You can’t,” he answers sharply. But then he softens his tone and actually picks up my hand. It makes me want to hold my breath, because he’s made it obvious he doesn’t like intimate contact. Yet here he is, holding my hand.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. “It’s just… you need to know that if you’re going to be around me, there’s a bunch of shit about me that you can’t fix. So I don’t want you to try. Don’t get invested in me, all right?”

I suck in my breath at his acidic tone and stare at him as I unconsciously pull my hand away.

“All right,” I whisper limply, stunned by his bluntness. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help asking about your family, because it’s something that I’m curious about… it’s something that I can see hurts you. I like you. I like you more and more each day. And as your friend, I don’t like that anything hurts you.”

“Are you my friend?” he asks suddenly, turning toward me.

I can’t explain why, but the expression on his face hurts my heart. It’s open. For the first time since I’ve known him, his face is completely open to me. I know that he doesn’t do this often… he doesn’t show his vulnerability.

“Yes,” I answer slowly. “I’m your friend.”

He nods, and I honestly don’t know what’s going on here. “And you like me more and more each day?”

I nod in confusion.

“Dominic,” I whisper, not sure of what to say. He looks up at me rakishly, the breeze tousling his hair, and he’s utterly beautiful.

“Don’t love me,” he says simply. “Or I’ll break you. I won’t want to, but it will happen.”

I’m stunned at the utter bleakness of his words, of his voice, of the heart-wrenching expression on his face. I don’t know what happened to him to put it there. But before I can say a word, before I can react, he reaches for me.

I know that for whatever reason, he needs me right now, and god help me, I want to save him from himself. From whatever pain he’s feeling. From whatever it was that hurt him.

I fold into him and inhale his mouth, his tongue sweet and hot against mine. His lips are soft and plunder my own, his hands sliding everywhere. He’s got an urgency now that I can’t understand. I don’t know where it’s coming from, or why he’s in an even darker mood than usual.

Whatever else he is, I can’t deny that he’s sexy. Everything about him is sexy and everything in me wants him. Right now.

He kisses me until I’m breathless, leaning me back until my head barely grazes the chaise behind me. He pulls at my shirt until he’s able to run his thumbs over my nipples, rubbing them into hard nubs.

“Still like me?” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. I swallow hard and don’t answer. “Yes or no?” he asks, dipping his head and running his tongue in circles around each point.

“Yes,” I whisper limply.

He stands up and unfastens his pants, dropping them to the ground. Crawling over me, his rubs his bare penis against my wet opening, the friction of it creating a firestorm in me, causing me to cling to his strong shoulders.

“What about now?” he rasps into my ear. He’s as breathless as I am, I realize.

“Yes,” I murmur, trying to pull him closer, to pull him inside of me. But he pulls away, standing back up and then pausing in front of me, gripping my legs.

Without another word, he bends down, shoving up my skirt and burying his head between my legs.

As feverish as I am, his tongue brings me to a climax within a minute. The wetness of it rakes over me as his hands ravage the rest of me, sliding, kneading, pulling.

I close my eyes, blocking out the moonlight, the veranda, the lights from the valley. I revel in the feel of being close to him, as close as I’ve been yet. He might not have exposed much to me, but I could see that he wanted to. He’s just afraid. And knowing that makes me feel as though he let me in somehow… just a little.

But now he wants to annihilate me. I can see that in his eyes, as he makes me come over and over again with his mouth. His dark eyes gleam, and they are all I can see of his face as he stares intently at me from between my legs. I try to pull him up, to get him to crawl over me, to kiss me, to plunge into me, but he won’t. He stays down… making me come yet again.

I arch into the air, reaching for him, but he won’t allow it.

“I want to feel you inside of me,” I tell him urgently. Because I do. I want him to fill me up. To give me, for just a minute, what he’s not willing to give me otherwise.

Himself.

Completely.

Not bits of him, not pieces of him, but
all
of him.

He pauses, staring at me, and I can literally see it as his eyes shutter closed. He’s closed to me now, and whatever progress we made tonight is gone.

He smiles his normal smile, the rakish one, the one that millions of fans have seen and loved.

“Not yet, Princess,” he tells me as he climbs to his feet. “Not yet.”