by Nadia Lee
He gestures at the waves. “Which I’ve burned off now. Come on. We have some pineapple and mango.”
My favorite. I follow him out onto the beach, where our sunbeds, a giant parasol and a cooler are set up.
He opens the cooler and pulls out a Tupperware full of bite-sized pieces of tropical fruit. He hands me a small fork. The fruit tastes extra sweet after our hour of vigorous activity.
After polishing off four particularly large mango chunks, he asks, “When do you need to go back?”
“What?” I say, surprised.
“Your work—the charity foundation you run.”
I hesitate, then say, “Well. If they needed me, they would’ve sent a text or something by now, right?” Rhonda and Patrice are most likely doing fine. They always know exactly what needs to be done each day, and are not only self-directed but lead several teams. I lick my lips, tasting the fruit and salt. “How about you? You need to get back to your empire, right?” I find a light, teasing tone hard to pull off.
Come on, Elizabeth. Stop with this and tell him the truth.
“Nope. Don’t have to go back.” He grins. “In fact, I don’t have to do anything. I wish I could stay here forever with you.”
“But you can’t! You have a business to run.”
“Which is getting along fine without me. Like I said, I have great executives who know what they’re doing, and they’re really stepping up to prove themselves.” He spears a piece of pineapple, then puts his fork down. “Liza, I already have billions. I don’t need to make more.”
“Don’t you like the euphoria of winning?” Every self-made man has a nearly insatiable hunger and competitive streak in his belly.
He cocks one dark eyebrow. “Winning?”
“Watching your bank account fatten.”
“Nah.” Then he considers. “Okay, maybe a little bit. But that’s not what drove me. I built my empire for you. I wanted to be your equal.”
His confession leaves me speechless, and I almost drop my fork in the sand. “Why would you ever assume you weren’t my equal? You were always my equal.” Perhaps more than equal; I inherited my trust.
“Male ego, Liza. I wanted to be the one to give you everything you desired. I couldn’t do that as a bartender or some guy stuck in a cubicle.”
This confirms my belief—that running away ten years ago with Julian’s help would’ve been a total hell for Dominic. And I know with absolute certainty that if Dominic had listened to me back then, he would’ve taken the option to run because I’ve always been in his heart—whether as love or hate. “Dominic, all I’ve ever desired is you. The world is nothing without you.”
His eyes widen, then darken, his jaw slackening. “Liza…”
I realize abruptly that I’ve never told him how I truly felt about him. I’ve always felt uncertain and shy—what if it’s too early? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?
How silly. I never loved Dominic expecting something in return. I simply loved him. I still love him, and I’ll always love him even if he doesn’t love me back.
No matter what lies I might tell, what truths I might withhold, this is one thing I don’t want to hide from him anymore.
“I love you, Dominic.”
He doesn’t say the three words back. He merely stares as though I’m a mystery he can’t unravel.
Even though I told myself I’m okay with not to have his love back, his silence hurts. It’s okay, totally okay. He’s going to hate me soon anyway when I tell him I never lost my memory.
He cradles my face, then kisses me.
Moaning softly, I kiss him back with all the love in my heart, my mouth giving and yielding under his. He fits his lips over mine over and over again, and I taste the sweet and tart fruit, brine and the heady male flavor that’s as unique to Dominic as his scent. His hands are so gentle as he holds my face between his palms, I feel tears well in my eyes.
His tongue licks over my mouth with aching tenderness, and I open up to him—all of me—fully, vulnerable, holding nothing back. He continues to kiss me, his lips and tongue moving to mark my mouth as his.
Oh, Dominic. Everything I am has been yours all along.
His hands brush the sides of my neck and rest on my shoulders. He then plants endless kisses on the skin his hands touched. His mouth’s so hot, it feels like a brand, and I love it—and his possessiveness.
“Take off your rash guard,” he says against my skin.
I start to reach for the hem, then stop as the image of what happened in the shower last night rushes through my head.
He nips the delicate skin over my pulse. “Now.”
“I…I can’t.” I look away, suddenly feeling ridiculous. I put so much meaning into him kissing me at breakfast…and just now. He isn’t changing his MO now, just because I said, “I love you.” He kissed me first this morning, and I never said anything close to love…
He pulls back. “Liza, what’s wrong?” He’s worried, not upset.
And suddenly I can’t stop the embarrassment from pouring out of me. “I know you don’t really want me.”
He does a double take. “Not want you? What gave you that crazy idea?”
“I saw you last night…in the shower.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dominic
Elizabeth looks down at her lap, her swollen mouth turned down in the corners. Her fingers move restlessly, but I’m not sure she’s aware of that.
Shit. I can’t believe she saw that. I feigned dozing off, then waited until she was out cold before slipping away because I wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep unless I did something about my condition.
It’s obvious what kind of conclusion she must’ve drawn. I thought it was odd when the mattress dipped and bounced back as I was drifting in and out of sleep, my head full of guilt and conflicting thoughts. But now it makes sense. I’m just thankful she didn’t pack her stuff and demand to leave the island ASAP. Instead, she told me she loved me.
I always considered myself a man of healthy self-esteem, but when she told me she loved me, I felt undeserving. I still don’t understand all that’s happened between us in the last ten years, and I haven’t done a thing to redeem myself. At the same time, I wanted to hold on to her love with all I’ve got.
But now…
A great way to hold on to her love, buddy…
“That had nothing to do with you…” I start, then wince. Talk about a lame explanation. There are only two people on the island. Of course she won’t buy it. “It’s because I’m an idiot.”
“What do you mean?”
“At first, I worried about your injuries. You don’t know how hard and filthy it can get between us.”
“I like it hard and filthy.”
You aren’t making this easy for me, my love. “I didn’t bring any condoms.”
“So? There are other ways.”
There are. I need to get off this topic unless I plan to tell her the real reason. I lean closer and grip the bottom of her rash guard. “If we do this, I’m not going to stop. I’m going to bury my cock so deep inside you, you’re going to get a dick imprint on your womb.”
Her eyes ablaze, she licks her lips.
Shit. My attempt to scare her with intensity backfired. But then, if I were thinking straight, I would’ve remembered she never, ever backs down from a challenge. All the blood pools in my cock, and I pull the rash guard over her head and throw it somewhere on the sand.
The finale—my cock inside her—is such a turn-on. I have to struggle to control myself. It doesn’t matter how much she likes it. She won’t enjoy herself if I don’t prep her.
One hand twisted around her hair, I kiss her again, raw with hunger. My other hand runs along the hot, sexy curve along her side from her hip to waist to the breast barely contained by her bikini top. Since I told her we were boogie boarding, she didn’t put that blue bikini back on…but this one doesn’t cover much either.
I cup her breast in my hand, fondling
it, marveling at its lush weight and softness. My thumb flicks the tip once, twice, and I watch the nipple harden.
Her breath shallow and erratic, she shifts her legs, cradling me sweetly. “Dominic.”
I strip the bikini top off her. “How do you want it?”
Her eyes meet mine. “Rough, hard and fast. Just like you said.”
Hearing that, I feel like my whole body’s on fire. Get her ready.
I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck hard, while I knead the other one. Her fingers thread through my hair, holding on tightly. Then I switch over, making her cry out and arch her spine like a bow.
“I’m so wet for you,” she says in a pant. “You can take your time next time, but I want you inside now.”
“You don’t get to boss me around, angel. You’ll take what I give you.”
After stripping us bare, I work my way down, leaving a trail of wet, open kisses from breastbone to belly to navel, all the while massaging her tits and flicking the pads of my thumbs across her pointed nipples. The scent of her arousal is killing me. She’s so hot and ready.
Still, I move down slowly for a special treat I love so much—the sight and taste of her slick, swollen clit and pussy. Normally, I’d feast between her legs, but from the tension creeping into her thigh muscles, she’s worried I won’t slide home.
Ah, my angel—not even an army of Lucifers could pull me away from you now.
I work my way back up, making sure my chest grazes her nipples along the way. The sunbed’s a bit too narrow for what I want, but I can make do.
“Spread your legs and hold your knees. I want you totally open to me.”
Her eyes sparkling with excitement, she obeys instantly.
Her glistening, wet pussy is gorgeous under the sun. Every inch of her is so stunning, it takes my breath away.
I bump the head of my cock against her clit a few times, drawing erotic gasps from her. Then, very slowly and deliberately, I push inside, giving her time to get used to the length and girth.
She’s so damn snug. A bolt of lust slams into me when she clenches.
“Make it filthy and fast,” she demands.
And I do, because there’s no way I can deny her anything when she looks at me like that, her eyes dark with desire.
She feels fucking amazing—heaven and home and all that’s wonderful and worth living for. My hips piston, and I drive into her hard, just like she wants, making sure to angle my pelvis so I grind against her clit for that added stimulation she needs to make this extra incredible for her.
Feral cries tear from her, and she writhes and bucks against me, meeting me thrust for thrust. Wanting her to lose herself in an orgasm, I kiss her deeply then pinch and tug at her nipple.
“Oh my God… Dominic!”
Her muscles spasm around my cock, and she squeezes her eyes shut, her head thrown back and her mouth open in a keening cry. I keep up the pace, making it last as long as possible for her. Then I can’t wait anymore. It’s been so long.
A couple more thrusts, and I feel my own climax sizzling at the base of my spine and spreading to my balls and dick. I pull out and come all over her belly, white semen roping out like I hadn’t jerked off last night. Pleasure bursts like a bomb, and I feel like I’m going to black out.
I hold her and wait for our breathing to settle. After a little while I climb off, searching for a clean napkin in our cooler box. But before I can find one, Liza looks at the white liquid on her stomach, dips a finger into it and swirls it over her skin, like she’s marking herself as mine.
Lust slams into me like a crashing wave, and my cock’s instantly hard again. Fuck the napkin. I circle her wrists with my hands and push them above her head, then claim her mouth in another carnal kiss.
Need to make sure the dick imprint stays.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Elizabeth
I shower while Dominic makes dinner. I told him I would help, but he insisted he was okay.
Maybe he’s right. I’ve never been much of a cook. My family always had a live-in housekeeper who took care of the meals, and if we didn’t feel like eating in, we ate out. And we avoided family dinners as much as possible because it meant eating with our parents. The only time I ever looked forward to a family dinner was when my brothers and I were in Tuscany with our grandfather.
I place a hand over my belly as water sluices down my skin. I wish Dominic had lost control inside me. Then I could’ve gotten pregnant…had a child of my own.
I always wanted a child to show the world to. Unlike my mother, who had three because she felt it was the appropriate thing to do, I want to love and nurture mine…so it can become someone greater and more wonderful than the sum of me and the father. I work tirelessly because I want my child to see beauty, wonder and peace. I long for a world without conflict and full of love and compassion.
If Dominic had gotten me pregnant, I could’ve had a child who looked just like him. Then I could’ve always had part of him with me.
But he’s always so careful, even as he chases his pleasure, while making sure I do the same. He doesn’t hold back his response, letting me know how much he loves being with me, above me, inside me, behind me.
You still haven’t told him the truth.
After dinner. After dinner, I will.
Shower finished, I leave my hair damp and hanging loose over my shoulders, then put on a teal dress with small, cute buttons in the back. The trick is to button them backside front, then turn the dress around and tighten the area below the breasts by pulling at the laces. It’s a little finicky, but I love the intricate design in the lumbar. I don’t bother with shoes, enjoying the cool floor against the soles of my feet as I make my way downstairs.
I sniff. “Whatever you’ve got cooking there smells incredible.”
“Angel hair pasta with seafood and tomato sauce. It’s my secret recipe.”
“Is that why you sent me upstairs?”
He winks. “One of the reasons.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nope. Just sit at the table and look gorgeous.” He smiles. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
So I go to the rectangle dining table. It’s too windy for us to sit out by the sea tonight. Dominic’s strewn fresh blossoms on the smooth cherry-wood surface; I pick one up, inhale its heady scent and slide it behind an ear, feeling like a carefree tropical girl.
He brings out food—a platter of garlic bread, the pasta with huge prawns, mussels and clams, all of which are my favorite, and a side of simple green salad. “We don’t have any pie or anything, but there’s chocolate ice cream and whipped cream for dessert if you want,” he says as he sits down.
“That sounds great.” I look at the food laid out. “Everything looks amazing.” I turn to him. “Perfect, actually.”
The stereo system plays something soft, romantic and slow. He serves me crisp white wine, which is an excellent pairing choice for the entrée.
“So,” I start after a small bite of the pasta, “how did a man who can cook like a dream end up in the industry you’re in? Real estate and online media, right?”
“I didn’t mean to go into real estate at all, actually. I fell into it…or maybe it fell on me.”
“What do you mean?” I know what the articles say about him, but they aren’t the whole story. The public never gets to hear everything.
“My granddad died less than a month after…” He stops, then takes a sip of white wine.
I know he was about to say “after your betrayal.” I read the obituary. I’m sorry, Dominic. So sorry.
“He died ten years ago and left me his company—Shaw Construction. It was completely unexpected, since he and I weren’t close. He disapproved of my mom’s choice of husband, and as far as he was concerned, I was part of the problem. He thought if it weren’t for me and Kristen, maybe Mom would’ve left Dad when she realized Granddad wasn’t leaving her a penny.”
“I’m sorry. That mu
st’ve been awful.”
The smile on his lips is tight. “I would’ve preferred an apology for being a jerk about my parents. Some part of me wanted to spit on his will, let him know he couldn’t make things right by giving me the company. But my rational side recognized an opportunity I shouldn’t throw away out of pride. He was dead. I couldn’t change how he’d behaved toward my parents or treated me and Kristen, but I could use what he left me as a base to build my empire.”
“So you just…took over?”
“Not at first. I didn’t know enough. But the company had a CEO and CFO who ran it together, so I learned everything, starting from the bottom. I didn’t want to be the kind of executive who spouted theories and Harvard case studies without understanding his core business or speaking the language his workers spoke.”
Admiration surges inside me. I know a lot of CEOs, and not all of them care about what the low-level workers think. Their only focus is hitting quarterly targets to get their bonuses and gain media attention for being a “super CEO.”
The company he built isn’t about ego, but his drive to do better, to succeed and be the best he can be.
“Let me know when you get tired of running a for-profit business,” I say teasingly. “Maybe you can run the Pryce Family Foundation for me.”
He laughs. “Don’t make it seem like I’m God’s gift to management. I’m not. I’ve had some really tough moments when I was close to losing it all.”
“What happened?”
“Deals went bad. Usually the other side dicking around, especially when they’re the ones coughing up the cash. I couldn’t even pay my workers one month, and I felt like the biggest failure in the world.”
“But you didn’t fail.”
“Because somehow, somewhere, an angel was watching over me.” He gives me a tender, lingering look. “She sent me bankers and investors who floated me cash to get through the tough spots. If it hadn’t been for her, I would’ve been homeless a long time ago.”
I smile, my chest full and tight with pride and happiness. I love knowing I helped him. Even though he’s being modest, I know he would’ve found a way out of the crises without my aid. To be fair, it wasn’t much assistance. “Don’t give that angel too much credit. She might’ve sent you bankers and investors, but it’s you who convinced them you and your company are the ones to place their money for a good, safe return.”