A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 26 | defining actual dominance

Held tight in his arms, my body fitted into the mold of his muscles as if his workouts were meant to cage me.

His muscles established perfect dominance on me because my husband didn't give up on my twirls and hits.

"Let me down, Let me down!" My hits slammed on his chest, but to my dismay, it seemed like I was pouring water on a duck's back.

He didn't give a damn about my feminine fist, instead, his frown darkened the more and he clenched his jaw muscles.

Dwain pushed past the door into his room and with a swift gesture, he tossed a switch on with the help of his free hand and lowered his gaze to my face; peering into my eyes and taking my breath away.

On the spot, a user manual on how to resist such a gorgeous man would have been handy.

"It's a plus if you stay quiet Lisa." His adam's apple bulged up and down as he hovered his gaze on me and dumped my body on the fabric of his bed without warning. "Fighting to get out of my arms won't save you from me, Lisa, So behave and be a good girl who listens to daddy."

Daddy; that word made me think of some nasty erotic stuff Megan forced me to watch, but whatever, I pushed it to the back of my mind, away with my anxiety and stress.

Dwain's eyes and lips weren't helping the situation either plus. . .

Oh! God!

We were alone.

His stare dropped to my cleavage and he squinted his eyes before retracting his body frame out of my sight. "Dress properly Lisa, my home isn't a damn strip bar-crap." Squeezing his hands into a fist, he moved to his closet and stole a glance at his expensive wristwatch. "It's five by my watch, our talk should last only an hour."

Overwhelmed with a morning headache, I didn't give a crap about my outfit; a loose purple shirt and beach shorts.

I didn't care about the loose buttonholes at my chest, not until Dwain took note of them.

I hurried and buttoned up my shirt.

My heart made flips at the sight of his thigh muscles rubbing each other as he battled his legs out of his pants and ripped his black jacket off.

The talk he mentioned to me should have bothered me, but his body stole all my focus, driving my sanity out of the window.

"Sir, please, can you get dressed?"

I stuttered as he held his hands to his waist and stood his ground in front of me; the prominent curve of his V-line and boxers straight at my face.

Faking a cough, I shifted my eyes from his ridiculous smirk and raised his blanket to my face; stopping his shadow from dabbing my vision.

My husband cleared his throat and the sound of a chair being pulled on the floor nudged me to meet his gaze as he squatted into the chair in just his white pair of boxers and black socks.

"C'mon Lisa, why so shy when you have played with what's beneath and gone rough. . . but you spoiled everything for both of us."

The coldness and sourness in his words as he tucked his lips reminded me of the messed-up situation my generous and vulnerable heart put me into; a pit with a lion making nasty roars and teasing my flesh.

The chemistry between Elizabeth and Dwain was unknown, but keeping Elizabeth and our duplicate identity secret, stood up front, playing the game seemed best to wipe out any hint for Dwain to suspect anything.