Page 29 of Loss and Damages

I sip, but it’s more of a gulp. I need the fizz because I’m nervous. Dominic would never hurt me, but I’m afraid I won’t be enough. I’m not a virgin and I’ve had my share of men for a woman my age, but Dominic’s older, more experienced, and I don’t want to disappoint him.

The sun has almost set casting the sky a purplish pink, and it lightens the bedroom just enough I can see his features through the shadows. The dark has always comforted me and another reason I don’t miss living in the city.

He drains his glass and sets it on the nightstand near the bottle.

He’s dressed in slacks and a dress shirt rolled at the sleeves, the scent of grease and heat lingering in the cotton.

I hope I don’t smell. My deodorant wore off a long time ago.

Dominic surprised me dropping by unexpectedly, and I hadn’t thought of applying more.

Now my skin is sticky with sweat from our walk and my hair is a limp mess.

If I was more sophisticated and lived in a place more suited for a man like him, maybe I would have suggested a shower first, but I’m not and I don’t.

He watches me finish my wine, and as I lick the last drops off my lips, he sets my glass next to his.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he says, pulling the elastic from the end of my braid and combing the plait apart with his fingers. “We can lie and talk, if you’re not ready.”

“I want to, but I’m afraid.”

He lifts me into his lap and cradles me like he would a child. “You don’t have to be. I would never—”

“Not that you’ll hurt me, but that I won’t be enough for you.” I hide my face against his chest. I’m so embarrassed, but I don’t have it in me to lie or pretend. I am what I am and he’ll know it too, the second he undresses me and realizes I don’t know what he’ll like.

“What if I’m not enough for you?” he asks, positioning me so I’m sitting. He draws the zipper of my dress down my back and I shiver.

“How is that possible?”

He slides the top of my dress down and over my arms.

“Stand up.” He nudges me off his lap and when I’m standing in front of him, he unties the ribbon at the back of my dress, freeing the material and letting it slide down my legs in a puddle at my feet.

I hadn’t planned on having sex tonight, and I’m relieved that my bra and panties match, a light blush that’s the same color as some of the flowers on my dress.

“Because I’ve never made love, Jemma. I only know how to fuck.

You deserve more than that, and I’m going to try to give it to you. Mixing emotion and sex isn’t my thing.”

Self-consciously, I wrap my arms around myself. I’m not like the other women he sleeps with, whether he loves them or not. I’m too short, too curvy. It’s stupid now, but I don’t want him looking at me.

He moves my arms away from my stomach. “Don’t cover yourself. You don’t ever have to hide from me. There’s nothing you’ll be that’s worse than what I am.”

“Dominic—”

“The women I’ve slept with accused me of having mommy issues, they say I’m cold and unfeeling.

Heartless. I’ve let the way my mother treated me into parts of my life where it doesn’t belong.

I haven’t meant to, but it’s there. I want to be with you, with my body, but with my heart too.

I’m not heartless, Jemma, but it’s frozen.

That part is true. You’re not the only one who’s afraid you won’t be enough. ”

His words move me, and I step between his legs and press my lips to his. As I kiss him, I undo the buttons of his shirt and brush my fingers over his hard chest.

He shudders, and I smile, just a little.

Slipping his tongue into my mouth, he unhooks my bra. The second it drops to the floor, he fills his hands with my breasts. He teases my nipples, pinching and pulling, and the sweet zing races to my core. I moan against his lips.

“You like that.” He lifts one to his mouth and sucks the sensitive skin.

I arch my back. “Dominic.”

Lifting his head, he asks, “Does that make you wet, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want more?”

“God, yes.”

He laughs. “Jemma, I enjoy you. I’ll never be bored around you.”

“Is that good?” I’ve never considered myself a great conversationalist or particularly interesting.

I’m sure he’s been with women more worldly than I am, more educated.

Women who can speak of current events or the next trending thing.

All I know is what’s in my little bubble of art, business, and family.

Hooking his fingers over the waist of my panties, he pulls them down my thighs. “It’s good. Everything you do to me will be damned-near perfect.”

I have the power to break his heart, and I don’t mean because maybe he’s falling in love with me like I am with him. It’s something else entirely, and it’s a power I don’t want to have.

Determined not to be melancholy, I crawl onto the bed. “You’re wearing more clothes than I am.”

“Indeed I am. I suppose that’s something I should remedy.”

Lying on my side and propping up on my elbow, I pretend I’m a saucy pinup girl. “I think I’d like to watch.”

“The fee is steep.”

“I can pay.”

His gaze rakes over me. “I believe you can. But just barely.”

I pout.

Dominic’s playful and I’m grateful he understands my apprehension. He tries to portray himself as a callous bastard, but underneath the hurt, he’s a caring man no one has bothered to get to know.

His eyes never leaving mine, he throws his shirt on the floor and kicks off his pants and boxer briefs.

I try not to gape at his cock, long and thick, the glistening tip brushing his chiseled abs. He’s a dream wearing a suit and I had no idea what was under his clothes. “Holy crap.”

“That’s one reaction I’ve never had before.” He crawls onto the bed and lies on his side too, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I’ve never seen a body like yours before.”

“And I’ve never touched a body like yours before,” he says, his fingertips creating goosebumps across my skin as they skim down my arm to my waist.

I scoff. “Yeah, right.”

He whispers against my lips, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Miss Ferrell. Men don’t like fucking sticks. We like curves. We like something to hold on to.” He moves his hand to my ass and squeezes. “There’s nothing better than sinking into the soft body of a willing woman.”

“Well, I’m definitely soft.” I lick at his lips and wrap my arms around his neck.

“And you’re definitely willing,” he says, brushing his fingers between my legs. “I’m barely touching you and I can already tell how wet you are. Christ, Jemma. I want this good for you, but you’re going to test every ounce of control I have. You said you have condoms?”

“Yeah, in the nightstand drawer.”

He slides the drawer open and lifts out the black box. “Why do you have them?”

My cheeks heat. He thinks I have them because I was waiting for Leo to say he wanted to make love to me.

“Jemma,” he says, gently prompting me.

“It’s not Leo. My sister-in-law helped me shop for the dress I wore to the homeless benefit.

She gave them to me then, thinking we might, I mean, she just wanted me to be careful because she knew I wouldn’t have any.

She didn’t even say anything. I found them in my purse after I got home.

” It had been a shock, too. Tara hadn’t so much as hinted that Dominic and I might get this far.

Warned me, actually, but she knows how lonely I’ve been since Leo died.

She’d never judge me if I wanted Dominic in my bed even if I didn’t love him.

“I like her already.” He sits in the middle of the bed and rolls a condom onto his cock. He flicks the empty packet onto the floor. “Come here. Straddle me.”

I sit up. “I’ve never—”

“I’ll help you. Come here, Jemma. I want to look you in the eyes.”

On my knees, I approach him, and he pulls me closer, his hand to my back.

“There’s no reason to be ashamed. I feel it coming off you, and if you’re ashamed to be in bed with me, I shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s not that, exactly.”

Dominic positions me over his cock, and the tip nudges my slit. He hasn’t touched me, hasn’t pushed his fingers inside me, and I’m worried I’m not ready.

“Then what is it?” he asks, and it’s as if he read my mind.

He gently slips a finger inside me and I bite back a whimper.

It’s been so long since a man has touched me, it’s like a million nerves are suddenly on fire and my muscles grasp at him, greedily wanting more.

He adds another finger, gliding them in and out until I’m so wet I’m not worried about his cock inside me. I can handle him now.

“Please, Dominic. I need you.” I tug at his hair, tilting his head and pressing my lips against his, closing my eyes to block him out. I don’t want to answer his question, but he forces me to.

Pushing me onto his cock, slowly, inch by inch, he fills me. “Then what is it?” he asks again, his voice rough, his fingertips digging into my hips. “Open your eyes and look at me.” He grips until it hurts and my eyes fly open. “You’re ashamed to have me in your bed.”

I sink lower onto his cock until I can’t take anymore and even then, he surges his hips upward claiming every spare millimeter he can. I gasp. “No.”

“Then tell me.”

I rest my forehead on his shoulder. “If he’d wanted me like this, I would have said no. He didn’t, and I was glad. You’re different, Dominic, and I felt it when you first came into the gallery. This would have hurt him. I know it would have, but in the end, I wouldn’t have been able to stay away.”

He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek, his breath hot and heavy against my skin.

“It probably would have, sweetheart, had we met while he was still alive. He loved me, but he barely tolerated me and he wouldn’t have liked losing you to me.

It would have happened because in your gallery, I felt it too.

But he’s gone, and we’re not doing anything wrong. ”

I search his eyes in the deepening shadows. There’s no recrimination or judgment because we share the same guilt.

“Come for me,” he says, reaching between our bodies and finding my clit. “You were never his, but I’m going to make you mine.”

His words do something to me and I smash my mouth against his, our teeth gnashing together as I grind against his fingers, my arms tight around his neck. With his other hand, he pinches one of my nipples and that’s all I need to fall over the edge. I cry out, my muscles rippling around his cock.

I can’t catch my breath before I’m on my back and he’s pounding into me, his hands anchored on either side of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair.

My old bed frame squeaks as we rock, and he buries his face into the curve of my neck when he comes. His cock jerks inside me, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him as he pants.

He stills and settles his weight on top of me, our skin slick with sweat.

“You’re mine,” he says, rubbing his lips over my jaw. “I’m not letting you be ashamed of that, even for my brother.”

I turn my head until our lips meet. “Why do you want me? We never would have met if it hadn’t been for him.”

“Do you know the first thing I thought when I saw you at Leo’s wake?”

I shake my head.

“I didn’t know who you were, only that you had been close to Leo in some way, and I thought, what a lucky son of a bitch.

I wanted you before I knew who you were to him.

If anyone should be ashamed, it’s me, and I’m not.

Leo’s gone, Jemma. I have a lot of regret when it comes to the kind of relationship we had, but that has nothing to do with you. ”

I know the reason why his relationship with his brother was so tumultuous, and it’s another secret I’m committed to keep. “I’m sorry.”

He brushes the hair away from my face. The darkness outside has taken over the room and I can’t see his expression anymore.

I skim my fingers over his cheeks, but they’re dry.

I didn’t expect him to cry over his brother while he’s still inside me, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had. “Will you stay with me?”

“Yes. Let me clean up. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Good. I don’t ever want to hurt you. I’ll be right back.”

He pulls out and rolls off the bed. I sit up, ball the sheet between my legs, and in the hallway light he turned on, pour more wine. I wet my mouth with the sweet liquid and wait for the guilt to burn through me, but maybe because of Dominic’s explanation, it doesn’t come.

Would Leo have approved of this? Likely not. Leo didn’t like the man his brother is, and I shouldn’t either, but because of what I know, I can’t hold anything against him. He’s been reacting to his mother’s rejection all his life.

“Do you want to brush your teeth?” he asks, stepping into the bedroom.

“No. I just want to go to sleep.” I set my wineglass on the nightstand.

“Come here then.” He spoons me on my side of the bed, slipping his arm under my pillow. “Goodnight, Jemma,” he whispers into my ear.

“Goodnight.”

I drift off, an uneasy feeling in my stomach, and I find out why when I wake up at 3 AM.

Like his brother, Dominic didn’t spend the night.

The hazy light of the moon shines through the kitchen window, and I can see my driveway is empty.

Trying not to cry, I sink to the floor and rest my forehead against my knees.

I’m not successful.