Page 13

Chapter Thirteen

Mikah

I’m in a funk and I need to get out of it. I have no idea how to do that. Especially since I have only a few hours before I have to meet Dominic to make this video. If I’m off, people will know. Or maybe they won’t, since they’ve never seen my face before. But if I’m stiff or acting weird, they’ll be able to tell.

“Okay, Mikah, you got this,” I say, pacing behind my couch.

CP meows, and I find him sitting on the couch staring at me.

“I know, CP. I’m going crazy. Just let me do it in peace, okay?”

He meows again, as if he’s saying Okay, go ahead. Be my guest, psycho.

I shake my head and keep pacing.

Why am I upset?

“It’s not that I’m upset, exactly. I just feel raw. Way too open now that he knows this personal stuff about me.”

Why does that bother you ?

“Because when people know your vulnerabilities, they use them against you.”

Why would Dominic need to use something against you?

“Because he’s human, and that’s what humans do.”

Maybe he’s different.

“He’s not.”

You don’t know that.

I stop, running my hand over my face. “I guess you’re right,” I say to my inner voice, then sneak a look at CP, who is now loafing on the couch, eyes closed. “I don’t know that he’s not different. He’s annoying, yes. A terrible neighbor, yes. Charming to the point of being a sociopath, yes. Has zero respect for limits and personal space, also yes. But that doesn’t make him a terrible person, does it?”

No.

I sigh heavily and drop onto the couch, which makes CP hiss and scurry away. I grab my phone and write out a text.

Me: I’m freaking out a little.

Why my answer to freaking out over being vulnerable is to be more vulnerable, I’m not entirely sure.

Because he isn’t a terrible person.

“Shut up,” I mutter.

A text comes in almost immediately.

Asshole Neighbor: Tell me why.

Because this is new. I’ve never done it before. I don’t know you. I’m not sure the money is worth it. I don’t like how comfortable I feel around you. I’m worried I’ll like it too much .

Well, that’s a lot of truth.

And I’m not sure I want to tell him any of those things. I was okay admitting that I’m freaking out. You know, post recording jitters. It happens. But all this inner emotional personal stuff?

I told him we weren’t getting personal.

But I’m afraid that I want to. I’m scared because I want to.

He tore me open with hardly knowing me, bared all my secrets, and he didn’t run. I mean, we aren’t dating or anything, but he didn’t act any differently. He didn’t make fun of me. He didn’t call me poor or talk shit about my family dynamic. Nothing about him changed at all. He’s acting the same as he was before, which makes me feel like maybe I could tru—no. No, I’m not going there.

Of course I can’t trust him. What am I even thinking? I don’t know him. He’s an asshole.

I stare at his text, noting the way he demanded I tell him and didn’t ask why I’m freaking out. Why do I like that?

Me: I’m not sure.

It’s the best I can give him right now.

Asshole Neighbor: Promise you’ll forget all your worries when you get here. You can come sooner if you want.

Asshole Neighbor: If you think it will help.

I don’t know why, but that has me confused. Annoyed. Maybe a little angry. I get up and storm next door, ringing the bell like a madman. He opens the door with that same grin that suddenly has my stomach fluttering .

“Why the hell are you being so nice to me?” I bark, throwing my arms up.

His eyes narrow, and he says, “Have you considered I’m not the big jerk you think I am?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but I’m actually a really nice guy.”

“You’re annoying, rude, disrespectful, and arrogant.”

He grins. “Your disdain is so sexy.”

I scoff, pushing past him, which makes him laugh.

“Go upstairs,” he says as he closes and locks the door.

“What?” I turn toward him.

The look on his face is serious now. No more laughing and smiling. His eyes are dark, and he’s looking at me like… like something I don’t even want to talk about.

“I said go upstairs, Mikah.”

He isn’t being rude, but his words are firm. He’s not leaving room for argument. I open my mouth to argue anyway. His brow raises and I snap my mouth shut. Dominic moves until he’s standing right in front of me. He smells so good, like the woods.

“Look, Mikah, I know you think you’re being all bossy and in charge, but I promise, all this bratty behavior is only turning me on.”

“What is wrong with you?” I breathe out, my heart pounding a little harder .

He shrugs. “Never really figured it out. Just learned how to deal with it.” His hand is on my hip, large and warm. “Kinda hope you’ll do the same.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my words hardly above a whisper.

My heart is beating really fast, and my skin is all hot. He’s so close to me I can see the dark flecks in his eyes. They’re beyond beautiful.

His smile is small and slow. “Go upstairs, and you’ll find out.”

I nod and do as he says, rounding the banister and walking up the stairs.

I go into his bedroom, noting the camera is set up on a stand, facing the bed.

This room smells exactly like him, only more. Whatever scent that’s just him, mixed with that woodsy scent, it fills this room. I’ve seen him stand in this room a hundred times before and never, not once, did I ever think I’d be here. I go to the window and look out of it and into my bedroom.

“Nice view, right?” He chuckles as he walks into the room. “Sometimes I get a free show.”

I smirk and say, “It’s weird to be here right now.”

He nods absently. “I can see why you’d think that.”

“You don’t agree?” I turn to face him, leaning against the wall and trying to come across as relaxed, even though that’s not how I feel.

“Not at all. But I don’t hate you the way you hate me.” I hear the teasing in his voice .

“I do hate you,” I say, though for the first time, the words sound strange coming out of my mouth. Maybe he’s growing on me a little tiny bit.

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we’re getting this done with so you can be on your merry way.”

Yeah. Good thing.

“So, what is the plan? Tell me what to do.”

Excitement glints in his eyes and my dick twitches. Why? I have no idea. Good thing though, since we’re about to make a video. The last thing I need is for my dick to not cooperate. Though it had no issue last time with him, so I don’t foresee it being a problem.

The smile that crosses his face is like nothing I’ve seen from him before. It’s pure sex. Lust. Excitement. All of it wrapped into a handsome smile that so graciously sits on his face. How rude it is to be so freaking good looking.

He steps to me, running his hand up my side, over my chest and then to my throat. I swallow hard, a whoosh of air leaving my lungs. He doesn’t squeeze, just leaves his hand there, letting me know he could, if he was so inclined.

“What you’re going to do is be a good little boy and listen to everything I say.” His tone is low, words slow and even.

Holy shit, why is it so hot?

Still no pressure from his hand, just enough weight from it to let me know he’s in control. I’m not opposed to him choking me, which is something I didn’t know about myself until right now, but I’m not all that shocked about it .

Erase that. Yes, I am. After being choked so many times as a child, you’d think I’d hate it as an adult. That it would be a trigger. But something about his hand and how gentle his touch is while also being firm…

Dominic shifts on his feet. “Now get down to your underwear, take that book that’s on the nightstand, get comfortable on the bed, pretend to read it, and follow my lead. Can you do that for me?”

His thumb brushes gently across my skin, causing goosebumps to erupt along my chest and down my arms.

“Yes,” I breathe out.

“Good.” Dominic’s hand slides down my chest, falling to his side and I suck in a breath, shaking out of whatever the hell that was. And when he steps away to go to the camera, I gulp in more air, wondering why the hell I couldn’t breathe when he was so close to me. He wasn’t actually choking me. But damn, that was… I don’t even know.

Taking my clothes off, I fold them and leave them in a neat pile on the dresser behind the camera so they won’t be in view.

I get on the bed, that isn’t made by the way, lean over to get the book, then get comfortable.

Dominic’s room isn’t dirty, but it isn’t as tidy as mine. His whole house is like that. It looks lived in… for some reason that has my chest feeling all weird. I don’t like that I’m suddenly questioning everything about myself now that Dominic tore me open and let out all my secrets to the world. Secrets I purposely chose to hide from .

“Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?” I question, looking at the book.

“We’re all mad here, Mikah.” He winks before leaving the room.

The little blinking light on the camera tells me he’s started recording. Does he really use an actual camera to do this and not his phone? How old is this guy? Shaking my head, I settle in a bit more and open the book. I’m hit with the smell of old paper. Earthy, almost musty. The pages are brittle but are thicker than what I’m used to. I guess they were made differently so long ago. The title page tells me this was written in 1865 and it’s a little nuts to think I’m holding on to something that’s so old. Literally right in my hands…

I flip some pages and come across an illustration, which isn’t what I was expecting to see. As I flip through, I note the yellowish hue of the pages, some with brownish spots on them. Still, it seems in really good shape for being so old.

“I heard my baby had a rough day today.”

I jolt at Dominic’s voice, having forgotten where I was, lost to the book. I look up and see him standing in the doorway, in an outfit he most definitely was not wearing five minutes ago. Tailored charcoal dress pants, a pristine white shirt, and black tie. He loosens it as he walks in, taking slow, meaningful steps.

I blink a few times, trying to get myself together. I can’t form words, just keep my eyes on him as he walks closer until he’s standing beside the bed. Fuck, he’s so hot. The tie slips off, and he drops it to the bed by my feet. My eyes linger on it for a moment, then dart back to him, my heart jumping into my throat.

I finally get my wits about me and nod, willing to play along with this game.

“I did.” The words are raspy and sound nothing like me.

“Tell me about it,” he says, reaching for the button on his left sleeve. Undoing it before moving onto the other arm. The move is so sexy I can’t pull my gaze from the way his fingers work. When he’s done, he moves to the button at his throat. My eyes are glued there next.

“Stressful,” is all I manage to say, sounding like I’m in a trance.

“Words are hard today, hm?”

I have a strange feeling about what’s going on here. Still, I nod. Because this is his video. But also, yeah, words are fucking hard sometimes. Especially right now. And though he’s once again calling me out, I don’t feel like he’s making fun of me.

“No words then,” he adds, his tone gentle and calm—understanding.

He works his way down his shirt, carefully undoing each button until they’re all undone and he’s pulling the shirt out from his pants.

“It’s okay when words are difficult, you know. Talking about things is one way to feel better, but there are other ways too.”

“Like what?” I ask, intrigued .

“Like letting go of control. Giving it to someone you trust. Being able to shut off your brain and allowing someone else to take the reins once in a while.”

I hum a sound of happiness, feeling like I’m in a weird trance as I listen to his soothing voice and watch his hands work at the button on his pants.

“That sounds nice,” I admit, confused but not angry about saying it.

“It’s what you’re going to do for me right now.”

“It is?”

“Yes.” He nods, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his shirt, which he drapes at the end of the bed. “Give me your mouth, baby. Busy your mind by pleasuring me.”

Fucking hell. Yes .

I slide the book onto the nightstand and move to him, lying on my back and resting my head off the edge of the bed. He reaches into his briefs and pulls his dick out, already hard and leaking. He drags the warm plump head across my lips, the salty taste of his pre-cum slipping into my mouth. I dart my tongue out to lick it up and he takes the opportunity to slip it between my lips. I rest my head back more, allowing him to slide all the way to the back of my throat. He groans, pausing as his dick throbs, causing me to gag. Dominic chuckles and pulls out.

“You like sucking my cock?” he asks.

“Yes. More please.” I open my mouth, and he goes right back in .

“Your mouth feels so good.” He brushes his fingers along my cheek, and I suck in a breath. “You’re so good to me, letting me use your mouth like this.”

His fingers stay on my cheek, barely touching me, but touching enough that I feel him there. It’s such a gentle, intimate touch. Dominic uses my mouth slowly, hitting the back of my throat now and then. Sometimes I gag, sometimes I don’t. Saliva pools in my mouth, and my dick is so hard. Too hard. I’m throbbing too much, aching too badly. I’m not going to last. And that’s something I hadn’t expected to deal with today.

I also hadn’t expected to feel so much damn emotion over this man using my mouth for his own pleasure. Yet, here we are.