Ten

Chapter 10
Dominic
I tried to stay away.
My resolve lasted for about a week before I couldn’t stand it any longer. It didn’t exactly help when Johnny reported back at the end of each day that Marina’s Lil’ Dress Shoppe had no more than four customers — sometimes fewer — per day, most of the time leaving empty handed. The fact that I made it a full seven days without bursting into her store to buy every damn dress in sight is, frankly, a testament to my will power.
But now that I find myself here, standing atop a small wooden platform in front of a big tri-fold mirror, I can’t help but wonder if I’m in over my head. Who knew having one’s measurements taken could be so… erotically charged?
Arin places the end of her white measuring tape at the nape of my neck, sliding her hand down my spine to measure the length of my back. She’s stripped me down to the black undershirt I wear beneath all my button downs, but the warmth of her deft fingers makes it feel like we’re touching skin to skin.
“Would you mind relaxing?” she asks gently. “There’s no need to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Then why are you clenching?”
Elio, who’s parked himself in a plastic fold-out chair near the front of the shop, cackles. “He just wants to show off his buns of steel,” he teases.
“Didn’t realize you woke up today with a death wish,” I snap at him in Italian.
He puts up his hands in mock surrender.
Arin simply laughs. “So is he supposed to be your bodyguard or something?”
I huff. “More like an assistant.”
Elio snorts. “Puh-lease. You don’t pay me enough to be your assistant.”
Arin laughs yet again, her hands pressed against my back as the sound of her voice floats into my ears. Her touch lingers, as does the warmth her lovely giggle leaves behind.
She continues to work with the utmost diligence, measuring the width of my chest, the length of my arms, the circumference of my neck. She circles around and places herself between me and the mirror, subtly licking her lips before she steps forward, wrapping her arms around my waist to slip her measuring tape around me. She can barely get her arms around my girth, her face a mere inch away from pressing against my chest.
This is getting dangerous.
Every passing second feels like a test. I can’t tell if she’s dangling herself in front of me or not, but it’s all I can do not to throw her over my shoulder, set her down on her work desk, and give her a repeat performance of five years ago.
I have to wonder if I subconsciously planned this. Now that I think about it, I totally did. I don’t need suits; I have a whole closet full of one of the finest tailors in Little Italy. What I really wanted was to help Arin out without having her owe Lorenzo, and maybe get to have her all to myself. Between running my boss’ loan shark business and making sure his racket runs smoothly, I wanted this one lovely distraction for my own.
“Spread your legs,” she tells me. I damn near choke. “Excuse me?”
Arin laughs softly, glancing up at me through her long lashes. “Don’t get so excited. I need to measure your inseam.”
And then she gets down on her knees.
The sight of her kneeling before me sends me spiraling. My cock strains against the confines of my pants. I’m suddenly very worried that Arin won’t be able to get the accurate measurement she’s looking for. She starts at my heel and slides her hand up the inside of my leg, inching closer and closer until her hand just grazes the tent of my pants.
Her breath hitches. She’s about to pull away. “Oh, I’m sorry, I—”
My hand shoots down to keep her fingers pressed there. Our eyes lock. I’m a goner the second I see her cheeks turn red and feel her give my cock the gentlest of squeezes.
Fuck being a gentleman. When it comes to her, I’m a damn scoundrel. “Elio,” I snap. “Out.”
I think he can hear in my tone how deadly serious I am, so he saves his usual wisecracking and leaves the store, shutting the door firmly behind him. The second I hear it close, I grasp Arin by the chin.
“Tell me you want this,” I growl. “Because if you don’t—” “I want this,” she interrupts.
I stroke my fingers through her hair, admiring the fierceness in those frosty grey eyes. “There’s my spitfire.”
Arin makes quick work of my belt and zipper, hooking her fingers over the waistband of my pants. Her eyes don’t leave mine until my cock springs free, the head red and leaking with want. I hiss as I throw a cautionary glance over my shoulder. We’re alone, but this has to be quick. She must have the same thought because she wastes no time wrapping her pretty pink lips around me.
I moan as the heat of her mouth surrounds me. Her tongue licks g my shaft as she strokes the base with her slender fingers. Arin hums contentedly, bobbing her head up and down my length. She takes more and more of me into her mouth with each pass until she can’t anymore. Arin hollows her cheeks and sucks in earnest, the tight coil in the pit of my stomach growing hotter and brighter alarmingly fast. I’m not going to last very long at this rate.
That won’t do at all.
“Up,” I command, pulling her head back by the hair. My grip is careful enough not to hurt, but firm enough to move her. Arin seems more than happy to comply, letting me guide her to her feet before lifting her into my arms.
She circles her legs around me, our lips crashing together in a chaotic, feral duel. The taste of her lips and her tongue drive me insane, but what does me in is the sound of her languid moan rushing straight through me. Her hands are everywhere, flying to my hair, to my chest, to my face. Her hips buck against me, her desperate, frantic whimpers making my cock that much harder.
It’s a frantic race to get to her work desk. She paws at my shirt while I grab a handful of her sweet ass. I’m just about to set her down when she flails.
“Wait! Wait!” “What’s wrong?”
“Not here. I’m working with delicate lace.”
I notice the beautiful lingerie set she’s apparently been working on. It’s
pinned to a soft cushion, a pretty string of pearls gliding along the bust of the brassiere. The straps are made of a thin silver chain.
“Next time,” I huff, carrying her to a nearby pile of unused fabric on the floor, “you’re going to wear that for me.”
Arin frowns but doesn’t protest when I set her down on the soft cotton.
Hopefully she won’t be too uncomfortable. “Do you have protection on you?”
I freeze for a moment. “No, I don’t.”
Her expression is answer enough, but she tells me what I already suspect. “I stopped taking the pill a few years ago.”
My disappointment is immeasurable. After all these years, I want to remember what it feels like to be deep inside this wet pussy of hers. It’s no matter. There’s more than one way to please a woman. Now that Arin’s had her fun, it’s time for me to have mine.
I’m quick to settle between her legs, brushing her flowing skirt aside. I suck a line of hard kisses up the inner length of her thighs, intentionally leaving marks against her soft, pale skin. By the time I reach her core, the thin fabric of her underwear is practically soaked through. With a wicked grin, I mouth at her through her panties relishing the breathy gasp that escapes her as her hands fly to my hair.
“D-Dominic!”
“This’d be a lot easier if you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt,” I chide.
“Just hurry.”
“I’m going to have to teach you a thing or two about patience.”
Arin’s hips buck as she groans in frustration. Her pussy is practically weeping for me, glistening with her untamed want. She truly is a sight to behold now that she’s at my mercy. Slipping her underwear down her legs, I toss the offending garment somewhere over my shoulder before diving in for my well-deserved treat.
She moans and writhes beneath me as I suck on her swollen bud, licking slow, deliberate circles against her with the tip of my tongue. She tastes wonderful, her pussy so nice and soft and utterly perfect. I know I’ve got her teetering over the edge when her breathing becomes tight and frantic, her grip on my hair the perfect amount of painful. Climax hits her hard and fast, her body curling forward as her legs tremble and squeeze either side of my head.
“Oh, fuck,” she wheezes.
I grin as I rise to my knees, giving my aching cock a stroke. “You’re welcome.”
“What about you? I want you to feel good, too.”
Licking my lips, I take my time drinking in the sight of her. For now, this is more than enough. I tuck myself away, readjusting my waistband and smoothing my shirt. “Dinner,” I tell her. “Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up.”
Arin readjusts herself too, brushing out her hair with her fingers before cooling her cute red cheeks with her palms. “I have plans,” she replies.
“Change them.”
“Can’t. I’m… babysitting.”
“That little girl from yesterday?” I ask, taking her hand as we rise to our feet. I briefly recall seeing the child when I entered Arin’s store, but I focused on her at the time.
“My… roommate’s kid,” she says slowly. I don’t know what to make of her hesitant tone. “I can’t get out of it. Lana works most evenings, so I have to be home to take care of Felicia and—”
The front door swings open rapidly, the metal frame slamming against the wall behind it as a rush of air blows through. It’s so sudden that Arin yelps in surprise. Elio stumbles in, his phone hovering near his ear. My first instinct is to snap at him, but the look on his face tells me something major is going down.
“There was another shooting!” he informs me. “Johnny and a few others were caught in the crossfire.”
Beside me, Arin’s face goes incredibly pale, her eyes wide with concern. “What are you talking about? What do you mean there was a shooting?”
Shit. Talk about a mood dampener.
“It’s nothing,” I say gruffly. “I’ll take you to dinner another time.”
I’m already out the door, Elio following close on my tail. This isn’t how I want to leave things with Arin, but I don’t have a choice. If shit’s going down in our territory, it’s my job to see it fixed. Family matters come first.
No matter how much I want to stay with her.