CHAPTER FIVE

DOMINIC’S POV

Aria stood before me in nothing but lace panties and heels, her skin glowing under the low golden light. 

The private suite was quiet except for our breathing, plush bed, heavy curtains, the distant thump of club music like a heartbeat.

“Still think you came to the wrong table?” she whispered, trying to tease but her voice cracked slightly. Her words slurred and her eyes glazed.

I almost smiled. Even now, she wouldn’t stop talking. It was equal parts infuriating and captivating.

I shrugged off my jacket. She reached for my shirt buttons instead, fingers trembling with urgency and alcohol as she tore them open. Her palms pressed hot against my chest, exploring.

For a second, I just looked at her. Four years of emptiness. Four years convincing myself no one would ever stand where Selena had. The guilt twisted sharply, tonight was the anniversary of her death. But when Aria reached for me again, my thinking stopped.

“Dominic,” she breathed. My name on her lips pulled something primal from me.

I lifted her. Her legs wrapped around my waist, breasts pressing to my chest as I carried her to the bed. 

The moment her back hit the mattress, I was on her, kissing her neck, collarbone, the swell of her breasts. She arched when my mouth closed over one nipple, sucking then grazing with teeth.

 A soft moan escaped her, shooting straight to my cock.

Her hands fumbled desperately with my belt. I helped, shoving trousers and boxers aside. Skin to skin, the heat was unbearable. 

I slid my hand between her thighs, finding her soaked. She gasped as I stroked her clit with my thumb and slipped two fingers inside.

“Fuck… yes,” she whispered, hips rolling against me.

I positioned myself at her entrance, looking down at her flushed face. Selena’s image flashed guilt crashed over me. But Aria’s nails dug into my shoulders, pulling me back.

I thrust in one smooth stroke.

She cried out, nails raking my back as I filled her. Tight. Wet. Perfect. I set a deep, deliberate rhythm, savoring every gasp. Her legs tightened, heels digging into me as she met my thrusts.

The room filled with skin against skin, ragged breaths, her pleas. I kissed her hard, swallowing her cries while rubbing her clit. 

“Dominic … I’m …” Her walls clenched as she came hard, trembling, gasping my name.

The sight pushed me over. With a groan, I buried deep and followed, releasing crashing through me.

We stayed locked together, breathing heavily. I rolled aside, pulling her to my chest. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my skin as club music filtered faintly.

For the first time in years, the ache of missing Selena felt quieter.

But as sleep tugged at me, questions lingered. Who was this woman really? And why did something about her eyes feel hauntingly familiar?

ARIA'S POV

The first thing I noticed was the warmth. Then the weight draped heavily and tightly over my waist.

My eyes snapped open, did I just have sex with Ryan?

My eyes tried to take in all I was seeing, this place looked really unfamiliar, this isn't my house, neither was it Ryan’s.

I shut my eyes again, trying to block out the headache coming and the tightness in my throat.

The unfamiliar ceiling, the heavy curtains, the scent of expensive cologne surrounding me.

Suddenly my brain begins to register, who was my back pressing into?

I struggled to break out of the tight grip, fearing that I might have been kidnapped or taken advantage of.

Then last night crashed into me all at once.

The club. The whiskey. The kisses.

Dominic.

"Oh God." The words escaped before I could stop them. Carefully, I turned my head.

And there he was. Fast asleep beside me.

The ruthless stranger from the club somehow looked younger when he slept. Less intimidating. Less dangerous.

His dark hair was slightly messy, his face relaxed in a way I hadn't seen before. Well yesterday.

For a brief moment, I simply stared, not thinking of the immediate danger. Then my brain started working again.

What the hell did I do?

I squeezed my eyes shut. Trying to convince myself I didn't Initiate yesterday. It wasn't that I was fully drunk, I was simply half drunk but this man….

A groan threatened to leave my lips. My therapist was going to have a heart attack. Slowly, I lifted his arm from my waist and slid out of bed.

Dominic didn't move.

Thank God.

The room looked far less romantic in daylight.

My dress was lying on the floor.

His shirt was hanging from a lamp.

One of my heels had somehow ended up near the door.

I collected everything as quietly as possible.

Each item felt like evidence of a crime. A very enjoyable crime.

"No." I chided myself, "We are not thinking about that."

I found my phone buried inside my purse.

Thirty-seven missed calls. Twenty-one messages.

Every single one from Ryan.

My stomach twisted.

The hangover suddenly felt ten times worse.

I deleted the notifications without opening them.

Then I looked back toward the bed.

Dominic hadn't moved.

Something about leaving without a word felt rude.

Then again, what exactly was I supposed to say?

Thank you for helping me make the worst decision of my life?

No. Absolutely not.

This was a one-night stand.

A mistake.

A beautiful mistake with annoyingly perfect cheekbones. I quickly scribbled a note on hotel stationery.

Sorry about last night.

Actually, no.

That sounded ridiculous.

I crumpled it immediately.

The second attempt wasn't much better.

Thank you for the company.

Worse.Much worse.

I threw that one away too.

Eventually, I gave up.

Some things were better left unsaid.

With my heels in one hand and my purse in the other, I slipped toward the door.

Just before leaving, I glanced back one last time. I don't know why I keep glancing back.

Dominic was still asleep.

A strange feeling settled in my chest.

Not sadness, and not exactly regret. Just…. Something in-between.

Like I was walking away from a chapter of my life before I had finished reading it.

The thought was absurd. I didn't know this man. I would probably never see him again. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

Then I stepped into the hallway and quietly shut it behind me.

Now I have to face the reality of both my drunken decisions and sober decisions.

I hope I want to face the drunken decisions complications.

Amen.