She rolls her eyes.
“What about you? I feel like I’m floating on air. I should return the favor.”
“No rush. Like I said, we have all day,” I wink. “Since I kept you busy all night, we still have all the ice cream and cheese to eat. And I’m pretty sure I’ll need another serving of your pussy in a few hours. I’m not due in the studio until eight o’clock tomorrow morning and I know it’s the same for you, which leaves me with plenty of hours to fuck you or for you to suck my cock,” I grin.
She hides her face into my chest and laughs.
She has me so turned on I could fuck her for the next eleven hours without taking a break.
“So, do you have any buyer’s remorse?” I joke.
“Not even close.” She pauses for a long beat. “What about you?” Expecting eyes blink up at me.
“Are you kidding me? My sweet Dom is a hot a little thing.”
“You don’t have to say that, Rod. I’m sure the women you’ve been with are maneaters in bed. I know I lack experience—”
“That has nothing to do with how much I wanted you, Dom.”
“You wanted me that much?”
More than you’ll ever know.
“That was a genuine connection between us. Tell me you felt it.”
“I did. I felt a sense of vulnerability I don’t typically allow myself to experience with guys.”
Nagging thoughts I managed to push aside creep to the forefront. I carefully weigh what I’m about to say next.
“I know you didn’t want to talk about it last night, but now that I’m your lover, I need you to open up to me. What happened? Who’s the asshole who robbed you of your confidence?” She just stares at me. I swear I detect a glint of panic flicker in her eyes. “Did someone hurt you, Dom?”
“It’s… it’s…” she shakes her head forcefully, “water under the bridge.”
“The fuck it is.”
She extracts herself from my arms, sits up and pulls the sheet up to her neck, hiding her breasts.
“Fuck the past! That’s what you always say,” she throws at me.
“This isn’t about our shitty parents or our soul-crushing childhood neighborhood. This is about something that happened to you. Something you’re dead set on hiding from me. How the hell am I supposed to protect you?”
“You can’t protect me twenty-four-seven, Rod,” she says.
What the fuck?
“That’s what I do. That’s what I’ve done since you were thirteen.”
“Let it go, Rod.”
There’s such defeat in her comment.
“Dom,” I press.
“We’ve made something of ourselves by slamming the door in the face of adversity. We keep moving forward without ever looking back. No matter how hard life hits, we hit back, Rod. Dwelling on shit is a waste of energy.”
I narrow my gaze at her, studying her carefully.
“What are you not telling me?”
“All you need to know is with you, I feel cared for and cherished like I never have before. I know you’d never hurt me.”
“Who—”
“This is now, Rod, and it trumps everything else. For the last time, drop it. Let. It. Go.”
Her tone doesn’t bode for a retort.
It’s a good thing because I’m so stunned, I don’t even know how to respond.
How did a perfect morning take such a bad turn?
CHAPTER 16
Dominika
I usually look forward to starting my day because I love what I do so much. Not today. I’ve been away for a month and a half, it’s not like I can wiggle my way out of my commitment and responsibilities. The shoot for Joel Banner’s video was booked two months ago. Not showing up at the studio wasn’t an option. Although I have my own small company, Rod and Loki are my biggest clients. It would not only make me look bad, but it would also reflect negatively on them. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to put on my big girl panties. I’ve been coaxing myself mentally since Rod stormed out of my place yesterday. I can tough it out. I got this. I think.
After a moody breakfast yesterday morning, the tension between us weighed so heavy, Rod decided it would be best for him to go back to his place. He was so upset. I was crushed to see him leave, but at the same time, I was relieved my secret would remain locked up.
This morning, I woke up feeling miserable and alone in my king size bed, his absence agonizing. It’s my fault things took a nosedive. I know Rod meant well––he’s always been a protector––but before I knew it, my guard was up like an impenetrable fortress. It’s self-preservation. I’ve sealed the tragic parts of my past in a dungeon and I have no intention of opening that door ever again.
Especially not to Rod.
One look at him this morning, when I enter the main studio of his building with my small crew in tow, pretty much negates all my pep talk.
Crap.
With my heart somewhere in the vicinity of my throat, I take a semi-confident step forward and keep walking. I try not to stare as I get the equipment set up, but it’s really hard.
He’s freaking gorgeous.
The broad-shouldered piece of hunk with tattoos who gave my preconceived notions about sex a good kick in the ass slid back into his exec role. I usually have no preference for either persona. Today, I do. I can’t even put into words how it feels to have his muscular inked arms wrapped around me, embracing me, making me feel safe. Now, we’re back to being friends… if I can call it that.
Rod’s brow arches as his appreciative gaze sweeps the length of my body. When our eyes meet, he offers a dazzling smile. That’s all it takes. A sea of sinful memories washes over me as I flash back to our smoking hot encounter. I pull my lips up in a shy smile and quickly look away. I don’t want him to see how deeply he affects me.
You got this.
“Dominika, is that you, love?” Joel’s question forces me back into professional mode.
“Oh, hi, Joel.”
“What happened to your hair?” he asks.
One look at him and I can tell he spent hours in the makeup and hair chair. He’s ready for his big day.
“It was time for a change,” I say.
“A change?” he cocks an eyebrow. “Miss Jacek, you went from beautiful to supermodel-worthy in the blink of an eye. You’re absolutely gorgeous, love.”
A few people standing around us nod their approval and offer big smiles.
I blush.
Don’t ask me why, but my gaze shifts to Rod.
His brown eyes are nothing more than a sliver of dark fierceness. His pursed lips suggest he isn’t amused.
I focus on Joel again. “Thanks so much.”
“And I love the new look. Smashing!” his eyes sweep up and down the length of my body.
Joel Banner is a British rocker and lead singer of Brawn Impulse. He’s signed under Holt Christensen’s––one of Rod’s former bandmate’s––record label. I’ve been entrusted with the responsibility of creating an attention-grabbing video to kick off his band’s North American tour. He has the voice and the look to make a successful crossover. Joel’s crafted style stands out thanks to his tall, lanky frame, piercing blue eyes and blue-black dyed hair. Of course, the British accent helps a lot.
“I did a little shopping while I was in New York and Europe,” I say dismissively.
I balked at Pepperdine University’s hefty price tag for the month-long training. Rod told me to ignore it. I told him I couldn’t afford to take a month off. He refused to accept my excuse—I run a tiny studio with a small, but dedicated team. I can’t just close shop. Rod assured me I could rely on him for money. I had every intention of turning him down, but out of three hundred plus applicants, I got a spot. In fact, I was selected in the first round. I’m glad I listened to him. My time in the Big Apple and Europe are unforgettable. The shopping and makeover are bonus.
“It’s very recherché. I approve ten times over,” Joel says with a wide smile.
<
br /> Wow.
“Thanks,” I repeat.
“And the shoes… a touch of good girl, but the daring print says otherwise.” Joel pauses. “I approve!”
Zoe is right. I have an impressive collection of Converse shoes. In my line of work, they’re practical. I can move around with ease and still look cute. Along with the hair, my cousin Johanna was instrumental in nudging me to make a lot of big changes. So today, instead of jeans and a t-shirt, I opted for a fitted cap-sleeved top, a maxi skirt that ties at the waist with a long belt. Both in black. I completed the look with a pair of leopard print flats. To make life easier for myself, I brushed my hair up in a high ponytail. I also dabbed on a little bit more makeup than usual… just because.
“Oh, stop it, Joel,” I laugh nervously.
“No, love, you’re––”
“Maybe the two of you might want to press the pause button on the heavy flirting for a minute or two.” Rod’s comment stings.
“I’m just paying the lady a compliment,” Joel quips.
Rod takes several steps forward. His threatening vibe rolls off his shoulders. I’ve witnessed it many times before. At six-one, Rod stands four inches taller than Joel. In other words, he has an unfair advantage. “You’ve only met her a couple of times,” he shrugs. “She doesn’t need your approval on the way she looks.”
Holy shit.
My gaze shifts as fast as a ping pong match, back and forth between the two men butting heads.
“I’ve been told,” Joel says carefully.
“You have,” Rod says, his nostrils flaring. Don’t let the feign calmness of his voice fool you. He’s nearing boiling point inside. His gaze meets mine. His eyes are as cold as ice. “Time is money. We should get started. We have a full crew waiting.”
My jaw drops in shock.
I’m so upset, the only thing I can do is shoot daggers at him.
How dare he cut me at the knee in front of everybody.
“All right, boys and girls!” Loki shouts, “let’s shoot a kick ass video, make the client happy and turn Brawn Impulse into a sensation!”
Everyone around us cheers.
Joel’s mood seems to lighten instantly.
But not mine.
And not Rod’s.
My best friend and I stare at each other like bulls in a ring.
CHAPTER 17
Roderick
Dom and I spent the better part of the day ignoring each other. The tension between us when we’re near is ridiculous. I guess it’s easier to pretend we didn’t have a major blow up after our blazing weekend. Right. Best to sweep the memories under the rug. As if yesterday’s fight wasn’t detrimental enough, I had to act like an alpha silverback gorilla, pissing around who I deem belongs to me to ward off a bastard––I mean an adversary––who thinks he can charm her with some sweet talk.
Fucking pompous accent.
I intended on approaching the whole thing with finesse, but the way Dom was blushing like a schoolgirl from Joel’s compliments, set me off. Maybe if she didn’t look so damn good in her sexy black outfit, I might not have chewed up Joel like I did. Now, I feel like a fucking idiot and I don’t know how to patch things up since she won’t even look at me.
Way to go, Wolfe.
I usually don’t spend this much time on the set when Dom is working her magic, but I can’t help it. I’ve been going back and forth between important calls, urgent emails, pressing staff inquiries and the set. Every time I pass Loki’s office, he just looks at me as if I’ve lost my marbles.
Maybe I have.
I’m compelled to loom over her. It’s like if I don’t keep a vigilant eye on Dom, the British rocker might think he has a chance.
Dream on, buddy.
I shake my head.
All this is absurd.
Who the hell do you think you are, Wolfe?
Not only is Dominika a grown woman––and she can be with whomever she wants––we agreed to one night. I knew the terms going in. For God’s sake, I set them. A taste wasn’t nearly enough. I want more of Dom’s hot body. After yesterday, I know it’s wishful thinking. Now, I just need to make sure my cock understands releasing myself between her legs is a thing of the past.
Shit.
“Let’s try this one last time before we call it a wrap, people,” Dom says waving her finger above her head in a circular motion.
She’s totally immersed in her role.
I love watching her work.
She’s so passionate about her craft.
She truly is an incredible artist.
Regardless of all the misery I had to endure when I was forced by the courts to move back with my mother and the numerous crushing setbacks of trying to crawl out of the shithole known as the Fashion District, Dom wouldn’t allow me to give up. She pushed me to never let go of my dream to become a professional drummer. God knows all the odds were stacked against me, but she never lost faith in me. I returned the favor and pushed her to become a video producer/director even when she thought it was an unreachable dream. I even forked out the money for her education. That’s how much I believed in her.
“And action,” Morgan shouts. He’s Dom’s blue-eyed blond 1st Assistant Director who is as passionate about his surfboard as he is about his camera.
For the next hour, I watch, as Dom’s team shoots take, after take, after take.
“One second,” Dom lifts her hand up and looks up from behind her camera. “Joel, I need you to pull Nina closer to you and really look into her eyes. We have three cameras on you capturing every eye blink. So go for it. I want big passion. I feel you’re holding back.”
“Got it,” Joel agrees.
“Nina, he’s the man you’ve been waiting for your whole life. I want to feel it. Right now, I don’t. I need you to lean into him more,” Dom says.
“Like this?” Nina asks, pressing her chest against Joel’s. He responds by placing his hand on her lower back, inches away from her ass.
Nina Frey is a Victoria's Secret model. Joel insisted on casting her for the shoot.
“Yes!” Dom gives the blonde model a thumbs-up.
“Dominika you should be my leading lady for this video. I should be embracing you in my arms,” Joel says.
My eyebrows shoot to my forehead.
“Well, thanks, Joel. I guess I showed up for nothing,” Nina says, sarcasm lacing her words.
“No offense, Nina,” Joel says. And if the asshole doesn’t pin me with a challenging gaze.
“You requested Nina. We gave you Nina,” Dom reminds him.
“You weren’t a blonde back then,” Joel retorts. “Had I known…”
“Maybe I should go home?”
Now Nina is really pissed off.
I feel her pain.
“Nonsense. It’s just a little banter with Dom,” Joel says. He shifts his attention back to my best friend. “You’re always hiding behind the camera when you should be front and center,” Joel adds.
I avoid looking at Dom. If I do, I’m likely to run my mouth. We all know how well that went yesterday morning.
As much as I hate to agree with the idiot, Dom would’ve done a much better job. Nina might be a gorgeous supermodel, but acting isn’t her forte. The beauty is as stiff as a board.
“Joel, focus!” Dom snaps.
At least my girl isn’t falling for his bullshit.
What am I talking about?
“I quite like being disciplined by a forceful Domme––I mean, Dom,” Joel says in a pointed accident.
Seriously?
His fake slip of the tongue is so obvious, it’s grotesque.
It takes everything in me not to punch the stupid grin off his face.
“Joel, we don’t have time for this,” Dom reprimands.
“Yes, Madam!”
Exasperated, I step away from the set before I cause another scene.
Fucker.
After the shoot, I corner Dom as she’s packing up her equipment.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” she glances up at me, her gaze guarded.
“Your vision for the video really came to life. I love the concept.”
“Thanks. Since the band is using their love song to enter the American market, I thought I’d give it an edge so it’s not too sappy. I wanted to adapt their smash hit UK video for the American audience.”
“Great call.”
“Thanks,” she says before averting her gaze.
“Kudos for forcing some passion out of Nina.”
“It took a little coaxing.”
“Yeah, but you did it.”
We’re all business.
Such bullshit.
She lets out a heavy sigh. A slight frown creases her brow. “What do you want, Rod?”
What a loaded question.
You underneath me.
“Do you want to grab drinks and dinner? We can go out to a restaurant or we can crash at your place, or mine. I’d love to hang out.”
“I can’t.”
“You have plans?”
I really shouldn’t insist.
“I do.”
Could you be more vague?
“Going out with girlfriends?”
“No.”
Jesus, woman, give me an inch.
“What’s on the agenda?”
“I––”
“Dominika, I’m off to the hotel to shower and change. I’ll see you at the restaurant, love,” Joel says. What? My eyebrows knit together. Joel moves his attention to me, staring at me, almost daring me to say something. I’m so stunned, my brain hasn’t caught up yet. “I’d ask you to join us, but three is a crowd. Have a great evening, Rod.” Smug, condescending fuck.
The idiot has the audacity to wave at me.
It feels like a slap in the face. I’m this close to reverting to a Neanderthal and roaring my disapproval, but I remember the look on Dom’s face when I went all fucking caveman earlier.
Calm down.
I turn to face my best friend. “You’re seeing him?”
“Joel and I are going out for dinner.”
Torrid Love: Friends to Lovers Romance (Bad Boy Studs Book 1) Page 12