After dinner, I help him clean up. He nods and says thanks, but asks me to put detergent in the dishwasher three times. I straighten up. “What’s wrong?”
He blinks, his gaze fixed on my face. “What?”
“You saw me dump detergent in the dishwasher, but you just asked me to do it again. I don’t think it’s a good idea to put more in, do you?”
“Right. No. That’s a terrible idea. Right. You’re right.”
I reach for the kitchen rag he’s holding. As our fingers brush, he flinches like he’s come in contact with a hot stove. His eyes drop to our barely touching hands, then rise to my chest and the cleavage showing in the bodice of my pink dress. The weight of his gaze is almost tactile, and my breasts grow heavy. I’m sure he can see my nipples bead.
Abruptly he raises his gaze back to my face. The rag falls limply from his hand to the counter, and he walks toward the living room without a word.
What’s that about? After starting the dishwasher, I follow him.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He plops down on a couch and runs a palm along the back of his neck. “Just a little tired.”
It’s only eight forty-six. But maybe he’s exhausted from planning our trip here and everything. Piloting the helicopter might’ve been tiring too. The muscles where his neck meets his shoulders are bunched, creating small bulges. I should give him a nice massage to help him relax. Or maybe a blowjob would be better. He’s so tense, he definitely needs something other than alcohol—he already had three drinks toward the end of dinner.
“Do you want to go to bed now?” I ask, my fingers toying with my platinum chain necklace.
“What?” He glances at the clock on the wall. A frown puts two lines between his eyebrows. “Are you not feeling well? Want to take the medicine Dr. Raydor gave you?”
He prescribed some painkillers and muscle relaxants, just in case. I don’t need them, but Dominic was insistent on getting them anyway.
“You said you were tired,” I point out.
“Not enough to go to bed right now.”
Hmm. Maybe he can’t fall asleep this early. Lying in bed with your eyes wide open can be frustrating. What can we do until bedtime? Dominic’s sitting so stiffly that I feel tense myself. Maybe he’s thinking about the night to come. Unless I’m mistaken, Dominic wants me as much as I want him, but Dr. Raydor made it sound like my accident turned me into a fragile doll.
I want to convince Dominic I’m neither fragile nor a doll. I’m flesh and blood, and I want it filthy and hot between us.
Patience.
“Wanna watch something?” I ask, finally discovering a huge media library full of Blu-ray discs.
“Sure.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Anything’s fine.”
“Even a romantic comedy?” I tease, spotting a couple of pink cases. Most men hate chick flicks. I’m sure Dominic’s no exception.
“Like I said, anything’s fine.”
“Want popcorn?”
He shakes his head. “Too full.”
I bring a bottle of vodka and two glasses, though, because forgoing solid snacks doesn’t mean we should also forgo the liquid variety. Dominic knocks one back fast as he waits for my selection.
I hide a smile. He’s probably dreading slogging through two hours of chick flick. Since I really want him to relax and have a good time, I choose Bad Boys, starring Will Smith. His movies are always fun and very guy-centric. There’s no way it won’t entertain Dominic.
I load the disc and settle in the empty spot right next to Dominic, which is precisely where I belong. I loop an arm around his, which feels like granite.
“Relax,” I tease. “It’s a Will Smith movie.”