Page 58 of Flock
“You had your door open. I was shocked, to say the least.”
“And the other five minutes?”
“Do women actually sleep with you?”
“No, never. They’re too busy screaming my name,” he says without a trace of humor. “Except the last girl—she was a corpse.”
“You are unreal. Psychiatrist’s dream, indeed.” Briefly, I wonder if violence does make this maniac hard. If it’s the only thing that makes him hard.
“What you thinking about?” Dominic asks, his lips twitching as he lowers his sunglasses.
“Nothing.”
He smirks before pulling himself from the pool and heading toward the back door.
“What are you doing?”
“Have to use the can.”
“You could ask.”
He turns from me, and his swim shorts dip slightly, revealing the top of his toned ass as he positions himself on the side of the house.
I cover my eyes. “Oh my God, through the door past the study, down the hall on the left. Savage.”
“Oh,” he tucks himself back into his pants, “I might like that better than motherfucker.”
I face-palm as Sean chuckles, rejoining me in the pool. “You’ll get used to him. I swear.”
“Either that or I’ll kill him.”
“Or that.” Sean corners me where I stand tucked in the corner of the deep end, pulling me into his hold.
“So, you get to use your phone, but I can’t have mine?”
“I needed it today for my parents. Sorry, I know that seems hypocritical.”
“It is.”
“Everything I ask is for a reason.”
“Which you will give me.”
He nods. “When the time is right.” His breath hits my skin as he leans in and I go languid, due to his proximity alone. “Tell me something, Pup.”
“What?”
“Why’d you give up so easy?”
His eyes bore into mine; one hit of those hazels is like taking a shot of truth serum. “Is it because you don’t trust yourself, or you don’t trust me?”
“Both.”
“Trust your instincts.” His tone is anything but playful.
“You’re being cryptic again.”
“I want you, how’s that?”
