33
The oppressive heat of the afternoon hung in the room like a weight, making it hard to breathe. The fan overhead did little to ease the warmth, its lazy rotation barely stirring the thick, humid air. I lay sprawled on the bed, my hair sticking to the back of my neck, and sweat gathering at the small of my back. The light streaming through the blinds cast slanted lines across the room, painting stripes of golden heat onto the walls.
I shifted uncomfortably, peeling the thin sheet off my legs and tossing it aside. My skin was damp, sticky, and every movement seemed to amplify the unbearable heat. I pressed my palms against my face, willing the dull ache in my head to subside.
A soft knock at the door startled me, and I sat up, the room spinning slightly.
Dominic stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His green eyes flickered over me, taking in the disheveled mess I’d become. He held a pile of old, brown-covered books against his chest, their spines worn and frayed.
“Do you still read books?” he asked, his voice low but laced with a teasing edge.
I blinked, momentarily stunned by his sudden appearance. My pulse quickened, though whether it was from the heat or the sight of him, I wasn’t sure. His hair was still mussed from the morning, and his white tank was damp with sweat, clinging to the hard lines of his torso.
“Books?” I repeated, my voice cracking slightly.
He smirked, stepping into the room. “I assume you’ll be bored, lying here all day.” He placed the pile on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under the weight.
I glanced at the books, my curiosity piqued despite myself. The covers were plain, faded, and smelled faintly of old paper. But then I caught the titles printed along the spines, and my face burned hotter than the room.
“What… are these?” I asked, my voice tight.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Erotica,” he said simply, the word rolling off his tongue with deliberate ease.
My throat dried up, and I stared at him, unable to form a coherent response.
“You used to read them all the time,” he continued, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Back when you thought I didn’t notice.”
“I—” My cheeks flamed, and I scrambled to defend myself, but the words tangled in my mouth.
“Relax.” He smirked, dropping onto the edge of the bed. The books shifted slightly as his weight settled, and he leaned back, propping himself on one elbow. “I figured you’d want something to do.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to let my gaze linger on the way his shirt clung to him or the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his arms.
“Well, I don’t,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Sure you don’t.” He reached for the top book, flipping it open to a random page. “But just in case…” His eyes scanned the text, and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. My eyes widened at the thought of what the context of the page might have been.
“Stop,” I said quickly, snatching the book from his hands.
“Why? Embarrassed?”
“Yes,” I snapped, clutching the book to my chest like a shield.
He laughed, the sound low and rich, and leaned closer, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on, Ellie. We both know you’re curious.”
I glared at him, though the effect was likely ruined by the way my pulse thundered in my ears. His proximity, the heat rolling off him in waves, the way his lips curled into a playful smirk—it was all too much.
“Dominic,” I warned, but my voice lacked conviction.
He leaned back, his grin softening. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your… reading.”
As he stood, his hand brushed mine, just for a moment. The contact was brief but electric, and I froze, my breath catching. He hesitated in the doorway, glancing back at me. “Enjoy the books.”
And then he was gone, leaving me alone with the pile of erotica and a heart pounding far too fast for comfort. I wondered where he had gotten them, if he had read them during his stay in this, this place, all alone, to overcome his boredom.
Dominic wasn’t the reading type.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, I felt the words bubbling up before I could think them through. My heart thudded against my ribs, my body burning not just from the heat but from something deeper, something I had been holding back for far too long.
"Wait," I called out, my voice cracking slightly.
He stopped mid-step, his broad shoulders stiffening before he turned slowly to face me. His green eyes locked on mine, curiosity mixed with a flicker of something darker.
"Yeah?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.
I hesitated, biting my bottom lip. My palms were clammy, and my head buzzed with a thousand thoughts, but only one made it to my lips. "Can you... come back here?"
His brows knitted together, but he stepped back into the room without question, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, his gaze searching my face.
"Ellie, are you—"
"I don't mean to rush things," I interrupted, my voice trembling. I sat up straighter on the bed, the wood creaking beneath my weight, my fingers trembling as they clutched the hem of my shirt. My breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, and I forced myself to meet his gaze. "But can you... touch me?"
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