The Dominant (31 page)

Yes, if we were going to have a relationship, I had to talk about Melanie.

“Yes.” I took a bite of a roll and chewed it while I thought. “With Melanie. It was a miserable failure.” I flinched, remembering
how I’d hurt Melanie. Not as badly as I’d hurt Abby, but I’d still hurt her. “We failed for several reasons—Melanie is not
a natural submissive, and I couldn’t repress my dominant nature.” I thought back to the night she found me in my playroom.
“But she didn’t want to admit we couldn’t work. I never understood that.”

Never understood why she had to go crying to Todd and Elaina. Why she felt the need to interrupt what I was trying to tell
Abby at the engagement party.

“For what it’s worth,” Abby said, “she seems to be over you now.”

I wondered again what the two of them had talked about at the party. However, if Abby thought Melanie was over me, it really
didn’t matter.

“Thank God,” I said.

I girded myself and asked, “Are you?”

She looked at me with the most beautiful longing in her eyes. “No.”

Relief, excitement, anticipation, and hope surged through me.

“Thank God,” I answered again simply.

I reached across the table and took her hand. “Nor I, you,” I said, because it wasn’t enough for me to know how she felt—I
had to be honest with her. Let her know how I felt.

Our eyes met, and I felt the chains of my past start to loosen. If we had made it this far, perhaps we could make it a little
bit farther.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back, Abby. For however long it takes.” I took a deep breath and forced out
my next question as I stroked her knuckles. “Will you let me?”

“Yes.”

I felt like jumping onto the table. Instead, I squeezed her hand and let it go. “Thank you.”

We were going to do it. We would work through this and find our way—together.

I wanted to talk to her for hours.

The damned waiter came back to the table.

“Have you ever made sushi?” Abby asked.

Okay, we could talk about sushi.

“No. I never have, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

The waiter took my glass and refilled it. “We have classes. Next Thursday night. Seven o’clock.”

Abby looked at me.

Should we?
her eyes asked.

Like a date? A regular date? To get to know each other?

Yes, of course. Anything to be near her. I almost said as much, but then I heard Paul’s voice in my head: Every step from
here still has to be up to her.

I raised an eyebrow at her.
Your call. You decide
.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

She agreed. She wanted to try. I decided then and there to ask her to the play on Saturday.

My opportunity came as we were leaving the restaurant.

“Abby,” I said, helping her with her coat. “Kyle’s in his school play. Opening night is Saturday and he asked me to attend.
Will you come with me?”

I tried to read her expression, but couldn’t decide what she thought.

“What time?”

“I can pick you up at five,” I said. “We could have dinner before the show?”

Before today, she hadn’t wanted me to pick her up or meet her at her apartment. Had our conversations and confessions changed
that?

“Five it is.”

After she left, I called Sara and told her I’d be working from home the rest of the afternoon. I drove to my estate with one
purpose and, after dealing with Apollo’s neurotic sniffing once again and letting him outside, I walked down the hallway.

I stood outside the double doors and closed my eyes. It was time. It had been long enough. The past was the past and today
was the day I would leave it behind for the last time.

I took a deep breath, opened the doors, and stepped into my library for the first time in weeks.

Saturday finally arrived following what had to be some of the longest days of my life. I wondered if Felicia would be around,
but Jackson told me she’d be at his place for the evening.

I ignored his “I told you so” attitude.

The date with Abby could not have gone better. She was beautiful, enchanting, and quite the conversationalist. She invited
me to the Dickinson reading and I accepted without thinking twice.

For the record, her favorite meal was braised leg of lamb, and when she was twelve, she’d wanted a bike for Christmas.

I knew Kyle wouldn’t have a huge part in the play, but when he stepped out on the stage for the first time as a chorus member
and saw me sitting in the audience . . . words couldn’t describe the pride I felt. He’d come so far from the sickly boy I’d
met not too long ago, and he’d worked so hard to have an active life.

I tried my best all night not to accidentally touch or brush against Abby. In keeping with what Paul said, I wanted her to
dictate our physical relationship. My only moment of indecision came when I dropped her off at her apartment. Should I try
to kiss her?

“Thank you for inviting me,” she said as we stood at her door. “I had a really nice time.”

“I was glad to have you with me. The evening wouldn’t have been the same without you.” I couldn’t help myself—I took her hand.
“I’ll see you Thursday night.”

I looked into her eyes.
May I kiss you?
I wanted to ask.

Not yet. Let her make the first step.

But what if she doesn’t?

She didn’t.

I smiled at her and turned to leave.

“Nathaniel,” she said after I took a few steps away.

My heart pounded, but I turned to face her. She walked to me and I stood still, waiting, unable to keep my eyes from the vision
approaching me. Did she want . . .?

Would she . . .?

Then she stood before me and touched my face. The touch of a goddess, the feel of her fingers as they traced my jaw and worked
their way into my hair—how had I lived without her touch?

I hadn’t.

“Kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me and mean it.”

And mean it, she asked. Show me how you feel and don’t take it back.

Never, I knew. I would never again deny my feelings for her.

“Oh, Abby,” I said. I could live for three hundred years and would still not begin to understand the forgiveness she offered
me.

I slipped my fingers under her chin and lifted her face. My eyes closed as I brought my lips to hers. I felt her need as soon
as our lips touched. Felt her longing. How delicately it balanced and mirrored my own. Yet I took my time and savored the
feel of her—her softness, the way she moved with me.

She stepped closer, and I drew her nearer. I parted my lips under hers as she deepened the kiss.

In that kiss, I told her everything. For once, I held nothing back, and in return, I felt her give herself once more to me.
It was a gift I didn’t deserve, and I would treasure it for as long as she allowed. I would treasure her. Make her feel wanted
and needed and loved.

I felt my body stir at her nearness, at her continued touch, and I pulled away. I didn’t want her to think I expected anything
tonight. To be allowed to kiss her was enough.

I sighed against her lips. “Thank you.”

Thank you for your acceptance, your forgiveness, your willingness to allow me back in your life. Thank you for not giving
up on me, on us, even though I had.

She looked up at me while I still cradled her in my arms. “You’re welcome.”

I sat in the last row of the room, watching as she led the Emily Dickinson session. She mesmerized me as she read—poems on
death, loss, and life. One in particular, “Come Slowly, Eden!” held me in a trance. She read it in a low, sultry voice, looking
back at me as she spoke the last line.

Who knew poetry could be such a turn-on?

I shifted in my seat as the reading ended. My plan to allow Abby to dictate our physical relationship felt right, but I wasn’t
sure how much longer I’d last if she kept throwing things like that my way.

Still, when I left her for the evening, all I gave her was a soft, chaste kiss.

We learned how to make sushi the next night. I thoroughly
enjoyed standing by her and learning something new. She stayed so near me, I could smell her light Abby scent. But more than
that, we simply enjoyed being together, laughing when one of us messed up, delighting when it turned out correctly.

Our kiss that night was more passionate.

Jackson asked if we’d like to double date with him and Felicia the next weekend, and we hesitantly agreed. All four of us
had a great time. Felicia talked warmly to me, and I saw her shooting Abby smug glances a few times. When she caught me looking,
Abby simply rolled her eyes.

Apollo grew more and more agitated whenever I arrived home after being with Abby. I wanted badly to ask her to my house, but
worried she might think I expected something physical from her.

Finally, about three weeks after we’d been to see Kyle’s play, I dropped by the library on a Thursday afternoon. I picked
Thursday because I didn’t want to stop by on a Wednesday—too many memories for both of us.

Her eyes lit up as I walked into the library. “Nathaniel!”

I leaned across the desk and gave her a quick kiss. “How’s your day?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Better now.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the way her cheeks flushed slightly. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to see if you would mind
coming to my house for dinner.”

She didn’t say anything.

“To see Apollo,” I said. “He misses you, and when he smells you on me—”

She held up her hand. “I understand. I would love to come over for dinner and to see Apollo. I’ve missed him.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t think any less of me for inviting her to my house—she’d accepted. Apollo would be so happy.

Although not as happy as I was.

Apollo was psychic—I was almost positive. He refused to stay in the house the next night. Instead he waited outside, practically
dancing in his excitement. When Abby pulled up the drive in Felicia’s car, he started spinning in circles.

I hurried outside, leaving my post at a front window. “Apollo, please,” I said. He practically knocked her over in his quest
to lick her all over. “You must forgive him, Abby. He’s been excited all day.”

She rubbed his head, and he stayed by her side as she walked up the stairs. “That makes two of us.”

I gave her a kiss when she reached me.

Afterward, she pulled on the towel in my hand. “What are you cooking?”

“Honey-almond chicken,” I said. Same as the first time.

“
Mmm
. My favorite.”

I remembered.

I opened the door. “Come inside. It’s nearly ready.”

We ate at the dining room table. I tried not to concentrate on how right it felt to have her in my house again. How she breathed
life into the dark, dead spaces. I pondered again how I’d ever thought letting her leave would be the best course of action
and gave silent thanks for her forgiveness.

Apollo, of course, sat on her feet throughout dinner.

I thought it would be a bit uncomfortable, eating at the table, as if the past would somehow steal away what we’d both been
working so hard to build over the last few weeks. It wasn’t, though. I’m not sure we stopped talking at all the entire meal—it
was a wonder we ate anything.

What was even more surprising was the fact that I could carry on a conversation at all after she licked her lip to catch a
bit of sauce. What had I been thinking? I wanted to ease her back into my house, into my realm, not spend the entire meal
thinking about her lips.

A movie, I decided. We should watch a movie. That way, we could sit together on the couch; maybe I would slip an arm around
her. She’d snuggle close . . .

I jumped up to clear the table after we finished eating.

“Let me help,” she said, getting up to join me.

“I can get it.”

“But I don’t mind.”

I put the dishes in the sink. “I wash and you dry?”

She nodded and picked up a towel.

As we worked, it struck me how well we fit together. Even doing mundane things such as the dishes. We were a team. We belonged
together. Surely she knew.

But I couldn’t assume she knew anything. I had to tell her.

Yet I still argued with myself.

After the movie. If you tell her before, she might think you want sex
.

No, after the movie, she’ll think you want sex. Tell her before
.

After would be better
.

After is just you procrastinating again
.

My hand trembled as I gave her the last dish. She dried it quickly and put it in the cabinet, then returned to place the towel
beside the sink.

Now, West.

I took a deep breath. “Abby—”

“Nathaniel—” she said at the same time.

Our gazes locked for a second and we both laughed.

“You first,” she said.

I took her hand. “I just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight. Apollo hasn’t been so calm in months.”

Damn it. That hadn’t come out right.

“Well, I’m glad for Apollo.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “But he’s not the only reason I came over tonight.”

I know. Thank you.

Stop thinking it. Say it.

I rubbed her knuckles, stroked the soft skin of her hand. “I know.”

A small smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “Trust me. I’m a pretty selfish creature.”

Selfish? Abby? How could she even think that?

I traced her jaw. “You’re not. You’re kind and loving and forgiving and—”

“
Nathaniel
.”

I needed to tell her. Had to tell her. Now.

I placed a finger on her lips. “Stop. Let me finish.”

She didn’t say anything else.

I stared into her deep, wide eyes and gently cupped her face. “You’ve brought my life so much joy; you’ve made me feel complete.”
She needs the words. Give her the words
. “I love you, Abby.”

She sucked in her breath.

“Nathaniel.” She leaned her cheek into my palm. “I love you, too.”

I felt certain my heart would explode. She loved me.

She loved me.

She.

Loved.

Me.

“Abby.” I sighed, pulling her into my arms and kissing her. It was the only way I knew to show my feelings. She parted her
lips under mine.

Oh, God. Her taste.

She pulled me closer and ran her fingers through my hair as she kissed me harder and deeper.

Forget the movie—I wanted her.

Let her lead.

I broke the kiss, dragging my lips up to her ear. “Tell me to stop, Abby.” Please don’t tell me to stop. “Tell me to stop
and I will.”

And I would. I didn’t want to, but I would. Anything beyond this point was up to her.

“Don’t,” she said.

Fuck. She wanted me to stop.

“Don’t stop,” she said.

Yes.

My fingers skimmed her arms. I needed to make certain she was sure. “I don’t want you to think I brought you here for this.”
I tasted the skin of her ear, unable to hold myself back. “I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you.”

Because, as much as my cock wanted to disagree, a movie and cuddles on the couch would be fine.

She pulled away from me and smiled.

“Follow me.” She held out her hand.

Huh? Follow her? I’d follow her anywhere.

She took me out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into the foyer. I still had no idea what she was doing.

She started up the stairs.

Holy fucking hell. She was taking me upstairs and down the hall into my bedroom. Which I still hadn’t moved back into.

I stood in shock as she led me to the foot of the bed and turned.

I cupped her cheek. “Abby. My beautiful, perfect Abby.” I dropped my head and kissed her again. When I felt her breathing
change, I pulled back, then drew her close, kissed her neck, and murmured into her skin, “Let me love you.”

Tonight was all about her—making love to every single part of her.

I carried her to the bed, laying her on her back. “I’ll start with your mouth.”

In all our time together, starting from the first day she walked into my office, I had cheated us both by not kissing her.
For the next several minutes, I did my best to make up for it—teasing her, teasing us both, with soft nibbles and gentle,
sweet kisses.

Finally, though, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I framed her face and kissed her long and slow and deep and filled with
all the passion I could.

She arched her back, brushing her chest against me, and I pulled back. “I could kiss your lips for hours and never tire of
your taste”—I took in the sight of her lying in my bed—“but the rest of you is so damn delectable.”

I unbuttoned her shirt, taking my time, wanting her to know what I was doing. Still wanting to give her a chance to back out.
She didn’t move from the bed, though. Her eyes watched me as I slipped the shirt from her body.

“I can feel your heart racing.” I ran my hand down her arm and captured her hand in my own. “Feel mine,” I said, placing her
hand over my own flying heart.

She took her hand out of mine and dragged my shirt over my head. I heard her sigh as she ran her hands over my chest and down
my arms. How good they felt on me.

Heaven.

But I wasn’t anywhere near finished. I trailed my lips downward—over her collarbone, across her shoulders.

“An often-neglected body part is right here”—I took her arm—“the crook of the elbow.” I kissed her there. “It would be an
unpardonable sin to overlook this tasty delicacy.” She tasted so delicious when I licked her, I took a gentle nibble.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

I lifted my head. “And I’ve only just started,” I said, because I had to taste the other parts of her—starting with her sweet
breasts. I worked my way over to them, kissing and tasting as I went. I did away with her bra quickly, eager for the feel
of skin-to-skin contact.

I leaned over and felt her nipples brush against my chest, barely able to contain the moan threatening to escape from me.
I cupped one breast in my hand. “Your breasts are perfect. Just the right
size, and when I do this”—I took a nipple between two fingers and rolled gently—“your body shakes with anticipation.”

A shudder overtook her.

Perfect.

“Do you know how sweet your breasts taste?” I asked, teasing myself as much as her, for I was anxious to get my mouth on her
again.

“No.”

“A shame, really.” I sucked her into my mouth. Mmmmm. Her taste. So much better even than I remembered. I couldn’t help myself—I
sucked her even deeper and bit her the way I knew she liked.

She rewarded me with a moan.

I released her from my mouth and blew on her other breast, watching as her nipple hardened. Her skin was so responsive. I
took my time tasting the other breast, starting at its base and working up. I tested its weight in my hand. Perfect.

“And this one?” I asked. “Just as fucking sweet as the other.” I licked my lips and tasted it.

Her hands dug into my hair, holding me close as I continued my rediscovery of her body. She felt so right under me, so perfect
in my arms. I took my time, wanting to drive her into a frenzy of pleasure. We had all night, and I planned to enjoy every
second.

Her hands grew more urgent as they danced across my back, and she pulled me up toward her—kissing me soundly and deeply.

Fuck. I’d never get tired of this woman.

Her hips lifted, circling and searching for my own.

“Wait,” I said, breaking the kiss. A reminder to me, really. “I haven’t gotten to the best parts.”

But I gave her what she wanted, moving my hands lower to stroke the slope of her belly. I hooked my fingers into the waistband
of her jeans and pushed them as low as I could.

“Another overlooked body part,” I said before licking her belly button.

She gasped and tightened her grip on my hair.

“Do you know how many nerve endings are found here?” I asked. I pulled back slightly and watched her skin respond as I blew
on her, now wet from my tongue.

Beautiful.

I took the clasp of the jeans and undid them, drawing them slowly down her hips, trailing my thumbs lightly across her skin.
I slid back as I undressed her, exposing the tiny bikini briefs she wore. My cock throbbed, but I shoved my needs to the back
of my mind and focused on her.

She had other plans. As soon as I threw her jeans from the bed, she pushed me onto my back. “My turn.”

She undressed me, taking my pants and boxers off at the same time, running her hands all over me.

Her hands felt so good.

“Abby,” I groaned when her hands stroked my cock.

“Roll over,” she said, and I turned onto my stomach.

She straddled me, sitting on my butt and running her hands over my shoulder blades, then down my spine. Her lips followed,
ending right at the small of my back, and she then licked her way up again. I pushed my hips into the bed, desperate.

Fuck. I needed to get my focus back on her, so I turned over, grabbing her and rolling her underneath me.