Love Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2)(45)

“Whoa,” she said unsteadily, her gaze dropping to his mouth. “First you want to dance and now . . . kissing. You can’t just throw all of that out there.”

Dominic grinned and rubbed his right thumb in a circle around the palm of her hand. “Didn’t ask to kiss. I said I wanted to dance.” He slipped his left hand around the small of her back and eased their bodies together. “You made that leap, honey girl.”

Rosie sputtered for a moment, but if she noticed Dominic swaying her into the low, slow beat of the music, she didn’t show it. “So I did.”

“I forgive you for sexualizing me.”

“Shut up,” she said on a giggle, then cut herself off with a gasp when she realized they were dancing. “Oh, you think you’re slick?”

“Did you seriously forget how much game I have, Rosie?” He brought her tighter to his body, groaning inwardly over the tits that poked into his stomach, the press of their thighs. “Maybe you need a reminder.”

“Maybe I do,” she whispered, her breath fanning over his mouth. “Just remember the rules, okay?”

Dominic made a sound in his throat that somehow spoke of misery and contentment at the same time. It was amazing to simply hold his wife again. For the last five years, whenever they touched, he got impatient almost immediately to satisfy her. Please her. Now he wondered if he’d been trying to overcompensate for not giving her what she really needed. Words. Intimacy without sex. Dominic dragged his tongue across the seam of his lips, noticing the flutter of her eyelids. What was he supposed to be doing again? Oh, right. Reminding her he still had a modicum of game left. “Mmm, girl. Your hands really worked that empanada meat.”

She burst out laughing into his chest, her whole body shaking.

Dominic’s deep rumble joined hers and tension ebbed from his shoulders. Damn, he loved making her laugh, and those instances had been too few and far between. For way too long. “What?” He nudged her forehead with his chin. “You saying my game is rusty?”

“Those are your words, not mine.”

“All right. Take two.” They grinned at each other for a moment, but Dominic felt himself sober. “When you were standing at the counter, the sunset was coming in through the window. All around you, turning these little curls near your ears to gold. I was thinking, I wish I was a painter or a photographer because keeping something that beautiful to myself makes me a selfish bastard. Even though I want you that way. All for me.” He closed his eyes and breathed in roughly through his nose. “Every perfect fucking inch.”

As he spoke, her fingertips twisted in the neckline of his shirt, her body going pliant against his. Somehow they continued to turn in a slow circle in the center of the kitchen, but Dominic didn’t have a clue how, when his body felt stiff and aching all over.

“Just kidding,” she murmured, going up on her tiptoes, sucking in a breath when Dominic dragged her higher against his body. “Your game is still tight.”

The word “tight” on her lips almost broke him. Almost made Dominic rip the yoga pants right off her. Two steps and he could boost her onto the counter, lick that sweet pussy he’d been missing like hell. No. For the love of God, don’t fuck this up. If he pushed and she backed off and left, he would hate himself for ruining this moment.

“Talk to me about something, honey girl,” he rasped. “You made an appointment to see the old diner space. You haven’t gone yet, right?”

“Nuh-uh. No,” she said too quickly, still on her toes, clinging to his collar, letting him turn her around the rapidly darkening kitchen. “No, but I tested my signature dish out on Georgie and Bethany. They loved it.”

“Sure they did. That’s amazing.” He pressed his lips together. “Was it the asado?”

She breathed a laugh and it slipped over his collarbone. “Of course it was. You’ll taste it someday soon, I hope.” A beat passed. “What have you been doing without me around? Do you cook?”

“God no. I’ve been eating at Grumpy Tom’s mostly. After work. Beer and a burger or whatever is easiest.” He stretched his fingers across the small of her back, trying to reach as much of her as possible. “Been sleeping with the television on. I know you hate that, but it’s too quiet otherwise.”

“Surely you’re not implying I usually fill the silence with snoring.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He chuckled. “Nah, you don’t snore, but you . . . murmur things.”

She looked up at him, her mouth close. So close. “I do?”

Dominic nodded. “Mostly about the spice rub needing more paprika.” Briefly, he brushed their foreheads together, even though he was dying to linger. “Sometimes you ask for me.”

The kitchen seemed to close in around them.

“What do you do when I ask for you?”

It was getting hard to swallow. “Kiss your shoulder, hold your hand.”

“You do?”

Dominic just looked at her, suspecting his heart—as well as the truth—was evident in his eyes.

“My appointment to look at the commercial space is on Friday. Do you . . . want to come?”

“Really?” His heart knocked in his chest. “Yes. Yes, I want to come.”

The double meaning of those words wasn’t lost on either of them. Their fleeting dose of eye contact was proof of that.