Page 91 of Say My Name

“You could give me half a second.”

“You’ve had nearly twelve days.”

“I spent most of them convincing myself the test might be positive.”

He is quiet for a beat. “Were you hoping it would be?”

“Yes.”

That answer is easy compared with everything else.

“And were you hoping I would come over that night even before you decided to lie?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I let out an unsteady breath. “You know why.”

“I want you to say it.”

The request is quiet. I still tighten at the memory of those words in my bedroom.

Dominic sees the change in my breathing. His eyes drop briefly to the pulse at the base of my throat, then return to my face. He stays where he is.

“This isn’t punishment.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I need the truth.”

“I wanted to have sex with you.”

“Even though you knew there was almost no chance of conceiving?”

“I wanted it even though I wasn’t ovulating. I wanted you inside me because it was you, and I used the arrangement so I wouldn’t have to deal with what that meant.”

He exhales and uncurls his hands.

His shoulders relax, just slightly. “Thank you.”

I hate how exposed his gratitude makes me feel. The vulnerability is a raw nerve, and I immediately reach for armor. “The sex was effective stress relief, too.”

For a second, he only stares at me.

“So close.”

“It’s still true.”

“I’m sure it is.” He closes another foot of space, and the air between us thickens, charged with the memory of his hands on my skin. “Do you need a research citation before you admit you want me again?”

“I haven’t said I want you again.”

“No?”

The low question pulls heat through me. He is close enough now that I can smell his cologne and see the faint crease his tie left at the base of his throat. His hands remain at his sides.

I could reach for him. He would let me choose, the way he did in my condo. Standing in my office adds another layer of wrong to how badly I want to put my hands on him.

“We still have the clinic this afternoon,” I say.

Dominic steps back.