Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance

by Romy Sommer

  She met the wild-eyed gaze in the mirror again. She’d faced water obstacles, fired guns, learned to skid a car, and flown on a trapeze. So why the hell was she hiding out in the restroom, afraid?

  She should be out there going after what she wanted. The same way she’d done with her career, with every activity Dom had set her these last ten days. All or nothing.

  To hell with Olivia and every other woman he’d ever been with. To hell with a bar full of strangers. To hell with the possibility of rejection. She was going to go out there and she was going to take what she wanted. And if she had to, she’d do it in front of everyone. She would kiss Dominic Kelly until he couldn’t say “no” any more.

  Swinging open the door, she charged out into the dimly lit corridor, colliding with an obstacle she was sure hadn’t been there before.

  Dom grabbed her arm to steady her.

  “You were gone a long time,” he said.

  “You came looking for me?” She made her eyes big and round. It was a look most men couldn’t resist.

  Dom’s expression didn’t change at all. “It’s time I took you home.”

  Home to his bed, or to the big, cold, empty bed in the guest room?

  “Did you know that Jacob is a parkour traceur?” She was proud of that word. Even prouder that she managed it without slurring.

  And that was definitely a reaction. Dom’s eyes narrowed. Yes!

  She reached up on tiptoe, pulled his face down to her, and pressed her lips to his.

  Taken by surprise, he didn’t respond for a heart-achingly tenuous moment. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her clear off her feet, deepening the kiss as he did so. She clung to him, her hands sliding to the back of his neck and she opened her mouth to him, sighing her pleasure.

  He tasted of whiskey, dangerous and foreign, and oh-so wickedly sinful. She drank him in, his kiss, the feel of his hands on her, one curved beneath her butt, holding her up, the other on her thigh, sliding beneath her skirt that had ridden high. He backed her against the cold, hard wall.

  She moaned, writhing into his touch, grinding against him, wanting so much more, needing so much more than even this overpowering, intoxicating kiss could satisfy.

  His free hand stroked the sensitized skin of her inner thigh, moving higher, to the edge of her panties, rubbing over her clit through the sheer fabric.

  She moaned again, desperate, pleading, and his hand stilled.

  He broke the kiss and pulled his hand away.

  “Don’t stop!”

  He dropped his head to her shoulder. “That’s the alcohol talking. You’ve had more than you’re used to.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not drunk, just fuzzy. It’s nice to be fuzzy. Please? I’ve wanted this for longer than you can know.” She wasn’t above begging.

  “Not here.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I don’t want our first time to be like this, hurried, in a place where anyone can find us and interrupt. I want to take my time and enjoy you.”

  First time. Meaning there would be more?

  Her already frenetically beating heart sped up. “Then take me home.”

  Slowly he eased her back down to her feet, righted her dress, then he held her face between his hands. The skin of his hands was deliciously rough against her cheeks.

  “Are you sure about this? Because I’m not such a gentleman that I’ll be able to hold back once we start. I am very good at following through.”

  She moistened her lips and his grip on her tightened, sending another rush of dizzying lust through her. Her mouth quirked, just the teensiest bit. “Then prove it.”

  He pulled her down the passage to the main room of the bar. Very reluctantly, she let go his hand before they entered the room, terrified that if she let go he would change his mind and she would lose this moment and her courage.

  The live band was only just setting up on the low stage. Dom dropped a few bills on the table where the others sat, grabbed her bag and his jacket, and with the most hurried of farewells he hustled her out of the bar.

  Caught up as she still was in the spell of his kiss, she managed to catch the look of approval on Vicki’s face, the bewildered look on Jacob’s. Olivia’s disappointment.

  She couldn’t help gloating a little.

  Then they were outside on the sidewalk and the sea breeze whispered around them. He pulled her against him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and holding her tight as he bent in for a quick, rough kiss.

  When he let her go, he handed her his leather jacket against the cooler night air, and pulled his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “I need to call us a cab. I don’t want to risk walking you home again.”

  She shook her head. “As much as I hate the intrusion, I’m not going to stop living my life the way I want out of fear of a few fans. I want to walk on the beach with you.” The way they had that first night. “Please?” This time when she rounded her eyes, Dom caved.

  Avoiding the bright lights of the boardwalk, they headed straight to the cover of the beach’s darkness, walking hand-in-hand along the sand, just another couple out on a Saturday night.

  When they arrived at Dom’s yard gate, her ardor hadn’t cooled any, and clearly neither had his. He pulled her up the stairs to the deck, through the glass door and into the living room.

  Then he crushed her against him and claimed her lips in a mind-blowing kiss that stole her breath and made the world tilt on its axis. She bunched her hands in his t-shirt, pulling him close and holding tight. There was no way he would back out of this now.

  He’d promised her he would follow through and if there was one thing she knew about Dominic Kelly, it was that he was a man of his word.

  When he broke their kiss it was only to pull his t-shirt over his head. She sighed greedily at the sight of him, ran her hands over his shoulders, his chest, his arms, glorying at last in the freedom to touch him, to explore the tiny nicks and scars that were the marks of his profession His nipples were hard and dark against his skin, and she licked at them, reveling in the shudder that passed through his body.

  His hands slid down her back, to rest on her butt, exactly where Jacob’s had been not so long ago, but this time she had no thought of brushing them away.

  She trailed her tongue down over his skin, over his abs and down towards his stomach, and he stiffened.

  “Slow down,” he said. His voice sounded rough and unsteady. “I want to get you upstairs, to my bed.”

  She took the hand he held out and followed him up the stairs to the master suite, to the one part of the house she had never yet seen.

  Light filtered through from the master bathroom, casting a mellow glow over the enormous room, understatedly decorated in beach-house whites and blues.

  Sandy lay on a large cushion in a corner of the room. She lifted her head off her paws as they entered, tail wagging furiously.

  “Out, girl,” Dom said softly, holding the door open. “You’ll have to sleep downstairs tonight.” With a woebegone expression, the dog trotted down the stairs and Dom shut the door, turning to face Nina.

  He didn’t switch on the lights. Instead, he left her standing in the middle of the floor of the vast room as he crossed to the glass doors and opened the shutters. Moonlight spilled into the room. Beyond the doors lay a wrap-around balcony and beyond that, over the rooftops of his neighbors, lay the Pacific.

  He turned and looked at her, and the moonlight illuminated his face and the gorgeous contours of his body. No crooked grin now, just a slow, heated smile that set her blood boiling.

  “Undress for me,” he ordered, burning eyes watching her from across the room.

  There was a reason she always insisted on body doubles for sex scenes. She wasn’t comfortable being seen naked. But the alcohol seemed to have blurred the edges of her usual fears, because instead of trepidation, his command made her feel powerful beyond measure.

  She unwrapped the ties at her waist, opening the wrap-around dress to re
veal first one breast, then the other. Then she dropped the dress to the floor. No granny pants tonight. No bra tonight, either. Beneath the dress she wore nothing but the sexiest, tiniest black-lace thong she owned. She really owed Wendy for packing her bags with such foresight.

  Dom wetted his lips. “And your hair?” he prompted.

  She slid her hands into her hair, undoing the careful work of a few hours ago, shaking out her tresses so that they fell loose about her shoulders.

  Dom’s breath hitched, but still he didn’t move.

  “Your shoes…”

  She stepped out of the shoes. Far from feeling the loss of height, power surged through her. He did nothing but look for a long moment, and the look in his eyes made her feel like a goddess. Now she understood what all the fuss was about. The gift that Dom gave every woman he slept with.

  She held her chin high and basked in the glory of being desired.

  “Come here.”

  She crossed the room to stand before him. Dom placed a hand on her hip and pulled her close. His other hand stroked over her bare breast, the roughness of his palm stinging her skin to life beneath his touch.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  She managed to nod.

  “And can you feel what you do to me?” He placed her hand over the bulge in his jeans. She shuddered. That made at least three times she’d felt the size of him. But now this was real. This was truly going to happen.

  She rubbed her hand over the bulge and he moaned, stilling her fingers. “You first, sweetheart. I want to see you come first.”

  She shivered. Her orgasm had always been elusive. But if Dom couldn’t get her there, with the way her body felt right now, on the verge of combustion, then no man could.

  He backed her up against the bed, laid her down on her back. Then he knelt over her and kissed her. The tension inside her melted, his kiss wiping away all thought and all fear.

  His hand was on her breast again, pinching, kneading, circling. A spasm of desire shot through her, straight to her core, and she pressed herself up against him. His hand slid lower, over her stomach and down to the lace between her legs, as his mouth replaced his hand on her breast. He sucked, drawing her nipple into his warm, wet mouth, and she arched into him.

  His palm pressed down on her clit, through the lace. She pushed against it, the rough scratch of the fabric adding to the pleasure building between her thighs, starting to coil outwards like the first lazy smoke from a fire.

  She parted her legs, opening herself up to him. Hooking a finger beneath the lace edge, he lifted the fabric clear away and cool air rushed in, caressing her tender, inflamed skin. He brushed his thumb over her clit, stroking, teasing, and she moaned, louder now, more needy, more desperate.

  Her head rolled back and she closed her eyes, her entire attention focused on that insanely slow, gentle brush of his thumb over the bundle of nerves so primed for him that she could see nothing else, hear nothing else.

  With a gentle nip at her breast, he removed his mouth and slid down her body. His tongue grazed over her clit and she cried out.

  No worries that she wouldn’t reach orgasm tonight. With just that slow, sensual slide of his tongue she was already on the edge.

  He licked and teased and sucked, and she writhed against him, her body riding the growing wave that built, built, built, then crashed over her, engulfing her. Then her body spasmed, incredible waves rolling through her as she lost herself to the sensations.

  His tongue stilled. He placed one gentle kiss on her still-throbbing clit before he pulled away.

  Through the daze of her afterglow she felt the bed dip and rise as he moved away. She raised her head, swallowing as she watched him strip off his jeans.

  His erection stood long and thick, the engorged head pressing against the waistband of his boxer briefs. Then he stripped off those too and knelt again beside her on the bed. She licked her lips and reached out to touch. She’d never seen an erection so tall before. Her hand slid down over the smooth skin, admiring the way he flexed in her hand, the way the veins stood out against his darkening skin.

  He tore open a foil packet and she held out her hand for the condom. “Let me,” she said. Her voice sounded like a stranger’s, thick with need. He dropped the condom in her palm and tossed away the wrapper as she rolled it on. Every nerve in her body was once again alight. As she stroked down the latexed length of him, he peeled off her panties, laying her completely bare before him.

  He slid a hand along her calf, lifting her leg. With a grin, she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him close, skin against skin, her stomach pressing against his so she could feel his every breath as if it were her own.

  He smiled as he bent down over her, holding his weight off her with the strength of his arms. Up close, he was even more beautiful, all solid, hard muscle. So beautiful that the tears pricked against her eyelids again. She blinked them away.

  The pulsing head of his erection pressed against her opening for one maddening moment, but she was having none of that. He’d taken his time. He’d made her come first. Now she needed him inside her. No more delays. She’d already waited two years too long for this. Her hips surged upwards, forcing him in, and he grunted his pleasure as her already orgasm-wet body encased him.

  She gasped as he pushed, burying himself deep. He stilled inside her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, stroking back the hair from her face.

  She nodded, unable to speak. His erection twitched inside her, and every nerve in her body responded. He needed no further invitation and began to move inside her, faster and faster. She held his gaze, wanting to see that look in his eyes as he came, but she had no chance. Already her own orgasm, another orgasm, rolled over her, tumbling her in its rough embrace. She clung to Dom for support, her fingers raking his back as he rode her to the edge of the storm, and then she was lost, sightless, senseless, lost in the pleasure.

  Then he came too, his body shuddering, his voice hoarse, as he surged inside her one last time before collapsing beside her.

  He pulled her to face him, holding her close against his chest, their breaths heaving. For a long, long time they lay together, his fading erection still inside her, the pulses gradually diminishing. She never wanted to let him go, buried her head in his shoulder and breathed him in, that scent of sea and sex and man.

  She never wanted to let him go.

  But she couldn’t hold on forever.

  He slipped out of her and rolled away to dispose of the condom, and she wanted so much to cry, to release the sudden flood of emotions that rushed into the space in the bed where Dom had lain a moment ago.

  She wanted to hold on forever.

  Turning away, she buried her face in his pillows, breathing in that soft lemony scent, dragging her tumbled emotions together. Making love to Dominic had been more intimate, more wonderful, and more scary than any other man she’d ever been with. Not that she had much experience to compare it to, but this wasn’t supposed to be how casual sex felt, she was sure.

  Casual was what it had felt like with Paul after months and months of dating. Casual was how she wanted it. These kinds of emotions were not allowed in her personal life. Only in that space between “action” and “cut” did she ever feel safe enough to let the emotions out. This wasn’t safe.

  As Dom climbed back onto the bed, she slid away, out the other side of the bed.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To my own room.” She was careful not to look at him. “I need to wash my make-up off.”

  “You can wash here, in my bathroom.”

  “I need more than just soap and water.”

  “Then don’t take too long.”

  She faced him then, needing to see if the look on his face matched the tenderness and eagerness in his voice. It did. A lump welled up in her throat. “You want me to stay?”

  “Yes. I want you to stay.” His eyes were too dark for her to read, but his soft voice,
and the emotion in it, rang clear. She was sure this wasn’t an invitation he made often. If ever.

  Her heart jumped and she hated herself for it.

  She nodded and hurried towards the stairs, only managing to hold back the silent tears until she reached the door of her own bedroom. Then they came.

  She took her time removing the make-up, brushing out her hair, brushing her teeth. The everyday rituals calmed her, soothed her, until the tears finally stopped. Then she stepped out of the bathroom and rummaged through the closet.

  Wendy had not had the foresight to pack any other sexy lingerie. The only sleep clothes she had were not designed for seduction. Instead, she pulled on a thin, silk kimono, which barely reached her thighs, and turned back to the door, pausing for a moment with her hand on the knob.

  The adrenalin and the alcohol no longer zinged through her veins. What happened now could not be blamed on anything else but her desire for this man. Not because he was conveniently here, or because he was a hot man who knew how to make a woman feel as if she was as beautiful as Scarlett Johansson, but because he was Dominic Kelly and she’d had a thing for him from the first moment she’d lain eyes on him.

  She swallowed and pushed open the door.

  He lay on his back, his head cushioned on his arms as he waited for her, and he smiled as she stepped into the room. She smiled too. He was still buck-naked and the sight of him took her breath away.

  He held out a hand to her and she moved towards him, climbing onto the bed. But she didn’t lie down. She knelt at the foot of the bed and looked at him.

  “Come here,” he instructed.

  She shook her head.

  He sat up on his elbows. “What’s wrong?”

  “What if I want more than you’re willing to give?” Her voice came out a whisper.