Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Chapter 39 Presley

This time, his rejection is like getting punched in the throat. I feel the lump form like a bruise and lodge itself in my trachea. I can’t speak. Can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cutting through me like a cold wind.

“No,” I manage to croak. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He shakes his head, roughly rubbing his eyes with the heal of his hand.

“I do, though,” I say, my voice wobbling. “You told me not to fall in love with you. I did it anyway. I guess I’m not very good at following directions.” Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Tears now falling freely from my eyes roll down both cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. But I’m not ashamed. It feels so good to just say it out loud. I hadn’t imagined that I would ever get this far. I thought he would retreat before I got the chance to bare my soul like this. But I’m not hiding my truth any longer.

“I don’t have the capacity for love,” he says softly, his eyes downcast at the table in front of us.

“That’s stupid.”

He looks up at me in shock.

“I mean, for a CEO, you’re really dumb. You are capable of love. I’ve seen it in the way you take care of your daughters. And in the way that you look to Fran for help and advice when you need it most. I’ve seen it in the way that you work with Oliver. You trust him, more than anyone. I’ve seen it when you talk about your brother that you lost. I’ve seen it when you first gave me that promotion—”

Dominic opens his mouth to object.

“—and don’t pretend that was strictly professional. You care about me and my future. I saw it when I was with Emilia and Lacey, braiding their hair. I know you felt it.”

“Presley . . .”

“That is love. Love is messy and imperfect. It isn’t that you aren’t capable of it. It’s that you’re overwhelmed by it.”

Dominic is stunned silent. I can’t quite make out the meaning behind the look in his eyes. I’ve way overstepped what is appropriate to say to one’s boss, but any and all boundaries crumbled into dust the first time he kissed me.

“I can’t keep working for you,” I blurt out. “If you can’t be with me in the way that we both need you to be, then I’m going to walk away. It’s the only way.”

These aren’t the words I planned on saying, but as soon as they’re out of my mouth, I’m flooded with a sense of relief, knowing they’re the right ones. There’s no way I can work alongside him now—this man who took my virginity, took my whole heart, and offered me nothing in return. If I’m going to pick up the pieces, I need to do it where I won’t be constantly hiding from his shadow.

The silence is deafening, and other people in the lounge are shooting curious glances our way. I’ve made a scene. This isn’t how I wanted to say it. I wanted to be strong, aloof even.

I pull a tissue from my purse, wipe away the tears, and quietly blow my nose. I won’t look at him. I must seem like an immature lovesick idiot to him, and I couldn’t bear to see myself through his eyes right now.

When I look up, he’s placed his final card directly in front of me. I pick it up with shaking fingers. The Lovers.

His voice is soft as he says, “I might be totally awful at this relationship thing.”

Still unable to meet his eyes, I feel the air shift between us. What’s happening?

Dominic takes a deep breath. “I might be insensitive. I might not know when you’re hurting, or when you need me. I might need a lot of space.”

The words fall out of his mouth like salts into a warm bath, easing the knot in my stomach and the lump in my throat.

As if he can read my mind, he lifts my chin with his finger. My lower lip quivers, and his gaze falls to my mouth. With one movement, he leans across the table and kisses me tenderly on the lips. My hands find his under the table. When he releases me, he drops his forehead against mine, our hands tangled together, an array of forgotten cards scattered in front of us.

“I can’t lose you,” he murmurs. “I need you, Presley.”

“What does that mean? I can’t keep doing this. This back-and-forth with you.”

“I know you can’t. And the truth is, neither can I.”

“What are you saying?”

He pauses, his stormy eyes on mine. “I’ve felt for so long that I was unlovable. That I had too much baggage, and that no one would possibly want to take that on. To be with me—to accept me and all of my many flaws.”

I smile at him sadly. “That’s not even a little bit true, Dom.” I can’t help but think of his ex that discarded him and their babies like they meant absolutely nothing to her.

He takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I go after what I want.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

“I can see that.” He smiles. “I want you too, Presley. I shouldn’t. But I’m selfish and I do. There’s no one else.”

I feel like I could float away. My eyes flutter closed. The anxiety in my chest unknots, and I let out a breathless laugh.

“What do you—” I start to ask before he cuts me off with a hard kiss. I pull him close to me, leaning far across the table for a better angle. With every push of my lips against his, I want him to feel exactly how much he means to me. And by the way he kisses me back, I really think he does.

Pulling back a few inches, Dominic touches my cheek, meeting my eyes with a soft expression. "How can you just forgive me so easily? I paid you after we had sex, for fuck's sake. And in London I was so cold. I acted like a complete and total prick."

I swallow down a sudden lump of emotion. He's not known for dramatic emotional displays or baring his soul like this. It's a big moment for him, and his apology means everything to me. He was cold in London, that’s true, but he was still hurting then. I see that now. It was a defense mechanism.

"You're not a prick, Dominic. You're human. We mess up sometimes." My voice is soft and I meet his eyes, amazed at all the emotion I see reflected back at me.

"That's putting it mildly," he murmurs.

I shake my head. "Don't you think I have regrets? That whole thing with Austin—signing up for Allure?" I’d done plenty of stupid things to jeopardize our future too.

His hand slides from my cheek to cup the back of my neck, his warm fingers sinking into my hair. "Let's start over then. We can't run from our mistakes, but we can put them behind us."

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all week.” I grin at him, the knot of worry in my chest totally gone now.

“How are you so confident about all of this relationship shit?” He chuckles when we part for a shaky breath. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Oh God, neither do I,” I admit. “Does this make me a stepmom? I’m not sure if I would be a good stepmom, or even a mom, for that matter. I want to be, but I—”

“You’re just Presley. That’s all they want.” He uses his thumb to wipe a stray tear from my cheek. “That’s all I want.”

“I may be bad at it,” I whisper. Part of me knows I should be terrified, but the thing is, it’s so easy when I’m with them.

He leans in to kiss me again. It’s slow and sweet and affectionate. Then he whispers against my lips, “I find it very hard to believe that there’s anything you’re not good at.”