“Where do you want me?”
I didn’t turn around when I heard the bathroom door open. I didn’t turn around when steam saturated my tiny apartment with its warmth. I simply didn’t turn around. I had drawn the curtains, so I wouldn’t see his reflection in the window, hoping I’d imagined the whole night and I didn’t have Dom inside my apartment, but hearing his voice made him real.
I debated having him lie on the couch, but it was too small for him. I had a keen misgiving about letting him lie on my bed, but it was the only way to treat him.
When I turned around to face him, and even when I was prepared to drool, nothing prepared me for the suck-in-your-breath gorgeousness that smacked me in the face.
Rivulets of water clinging to his thick raven-black hair, only accentuated the fascinating shape of his eyes that tilted up slightly at the corners. Dom had many sculpture-worthy features. His nose, which should have been too thin, complemented his full lips and chiseled, angular face. Strong and brutally beautiful was an apt description.
For his height, Dom’s perfectly muscled frame defined a man in his prime. His shoulders, chest, and biceps were a product of being an all-around athlete. I knew he frequented his family’s boxing gym and sometimes sparred in mixed martial arts.
“You’re staring,” he said. There was no teasing in his tone, but his voice took on the rough texture of gravel.
I decided I’d been on defense for too long; I was going on offense. “I am. I always wondered what you hid beneath your civilized suits.”
As he approached, I had the oddest conflicting desire of either wanting the towel wrapped around his hips to unravel or remain plastered to his skin. The edge was already drenched in blood, reminding me I had to stitch him up.
He stopped inches from me and lowered his head. “Do I get to see what you’re hiding beneath those awful coveralls?”
“If you’re a good boy,” I shot back and nodded to my bedroom. “In there. I’ve prepped my bed, but don’t get any ideas.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dom drawled. He turned and awarded me a view of his fine ass. No flat-butt male here. With everything going on in my life, I tried to be pragmatic. I wasn’t a denier. I was an opportunist. If it were any person other than Dom, meaning not connected to the mafia, I’d be giving in to a hookup. My busy life and the people I was currently indebted to because of my brother didn’t allow for serious relationships, which was why I avoided them. But this girl had needs. But my needs shouldn’t be used as future blackmail.
When we entered the room, Dom paused when he saw the bed. I had a plastic sheet covering the mattress and a folded bedsheet on top of it.
He cast me a brief glance. “Should I be worried?”
“What? That the Russians set a trap and I’m Doctor Death?”
“Not funny,” he grumbled. He kept his eyes on me while whipping off the towel and handing it to me. I didn’t break eye contact when I accepted it. His mouth lifted at the corner before he lay on the bed in all his naked glory.
I got an eyeful of an impressive semi-erect penis before I covered it with the towel. I put on my Sloane-means-business face.
“No anesthesia of any sort,” he said in a quiet, lethal voice. After getting whiplash so many times with his attitude change from tonight alone—and I didn’t mean mood swings—because Dom was in control of his moods, I became aware of the dangerous hyper-masculinity he kept hidden under his drama queen persona.
“I was just kidding about the Russians.”
“No anesthesia. I want to feel the pain of every stitch you give me.”
“Why?”
His mouth curved into a teasing, evil smile. “So I’ll remember what you owe me.”
“You’re speaking in riddles.” And as much as I liked to spar with him, there was suturing that needed to get done. “Be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To wash my hands.”
I entered the bathroom that bore the remnants of Dom’s quick shower. His trousers and briefs were neatly folded on the toilet seat. The man wasn’t a slob at least.
After washing my hands with antibacterial soap, I returned to the bedroom. Dom was on his back. His left arm, unscathed from whatever encounter he had earlier, was crooked under his head, nonchalant as he pleased, like he was about to be serviced with a blowjob and not sewn up without anesthesia.
“Last chance. You don’t need to prove your manhood by rejecting anesthesia.”
“I’m fine, beautiful. It’s not my first rodeo.”
“Huh.” I snorted and sat on the seat I already had in front of the bed and proceeded with his care.
I irrigated the wound with a sterile saline solution to flush out any debris, ignoring the hiss of Dom’s breath. He asked for no anesthesia, so he could simply suck it up.
As a nurse, it was illegal for me to perform sutures. Only surgeons were licensed. But I had stitched countless gunshot and knife wounds, and injuries from impalements when the underworld came calling.
After I’d cleaned the cut, I picked up the hemostat with the threaded needle and forceps and proceeded to close Dom’s four-inch uneven gash.
“So, care to explain what you meant when you said I’m the reason you got attacked with a knife?” I asked while I worked.
“I didn’t say you’re the reason I got knifed.”
“You were lying?”
“No. I said you were the reason I was bleeding out.”
I stopped after tightening a knot and stared at him. “I don’t follow.”
He peered down where I had paused and said, “Fuck. Remind me not to get into this position with you again.”
This made me smile because it confirmed what I’d concluded about his tactics.
“Why, Dom, feeling vulnerable?”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
“You think I don’t have the power right now? I have a pair of medical shears close to your jewels.”
“You wouldn’t waste a prime example of the male species without trying it out?”
The arrogance…but he was backing it up with the force of his personality. I even had the feeling he was reining it in. Saliva had deserted me. His cock was a hard line underneath the towel and it was growing bigger. Oh my God.
“Please,” I taunted. “You’re forgetting, I’m a nurse. I’ve seen every form of balls, penises, and assholes. You’re nothing special.”
“Ouch, beautiful. You know, you’ve just issued a challenge, right?”
My face heated and I squirmed in my chair as a pulsing wetness bloomed between my thighs. I swear I could hear it squelch. Dom’s eyes glinted knowingly. I wasn’t sure what his game was. Did he plan to sleep with me to get information on the Russians? I knew next to nothing. Or did he plan to torture me with orgasm denial?
Holy hell.
I concentrated on suturing, not trusting myself to speak. It was going to come out husky and then he’d get harder and then I’d get wetter. No. The sooner this was done, the better.
“In the interest of nondisclosure, since I’m sure we both signed an agreement before entering Grigori’s den,” he said. “Let’s just say I can’t talk about why or what transpired that caused the bloody mess you had to clean up. But since Bianca is my cousin, and she considers you family, I appointed myself your guardian angel after something I’d overheard.”
Chills ran down my arms. I neatly finished the suture and carefully put the instruments away.
“Did Grigori proposition you?” he asked.
“I thought we had a nondisclosure agreement.” I raised my gaze and held his.
His eyes narrowed. “We do, but we could speculate or hypothesize.”
“Okay.” I reached for his arm that had nicks from a knife. They appeared to have stopped bleeding, but there was one particular incision that was troublesome. I reached for the butterfly bandages. “Hypothetically, Grigori thinks he could get rid of my brother for me, but in return I do something for him, like entertain one of his friends.”
Dom’s face hardened. “You will say no. The whole reason you’re doing the Russians’ bidding is because you care for your brother and you wouldn’t want him whacked.”
“Grigori was just reaching.” I applied a butterfly and stitched the deeper cut. “So hypothetically was that what you overheard?”
“Yeah, you can say that.”
“And the reason you’re bleeding out and why you say it’s because of me is because you didn’t take care of your injuries when you should have and instead lurked around Grigori’s building waiting for me to show up because you knew they were calling me.”
“You’re doing good with your hypotheticals.”
I laughed. “You didn’t run after my van, though.”
“I had a friend with me. I told him to drop me off.”
“If I hadn’t stopped, would you have followed me home?”
“Or cut you off.”
“Seriously?”
“I wanted you to take care of me.”
I rolled my eyes. “What are you up to?” I finished dressing the wounds on his right arm and stood back, my hands on my hips.
Dom slowly rolled out of the bed and stood in front of me, unmindful that he was completely naked and his cock was jutting out between us.
This was a man comfortable in his skin. He’d walk around naked like it was the most natural thing for him to do. Despite his complaints about me giving him a scar, he sported several jagged marks on his body and they only added to his brutal beauty.
“Thought I was doing my duty taking care of family,” he said.
“I’m not your family.”
“I know, but by association.” He raised his arm. “Let me finish. Something got triggered tonight. We’ve been avoiding each other, but I’m not avoiding it anymore.”
“What changed? Nothing from my end.”
He stepped forward and touched my hair. “Liar. We have chemistry. Your fiery hair…I always wondered if you were a natural.”
“Did Grigori say something to that effect?” I asked, outraged because even when my brother mentioned it to me, it pissed me off to be talked about like that, like meat to sell, which was what these Russians were doing.
“Hypothetically?” Dom rasped, dropping his arm to his side. “Yes. And I wanted to kill him and I didn’t know why.”
Heat flushed my skin, warring with the goose bumps that chased down my back at the intensity behind his words and sharp gaze. We were standing a foot apart, which was a blessing. “Probably chivalry,” I said shakily. “Bianca…”
“Shut up.” He closed the distance between us. “Spend the weekend with me.”
An incredulous laugh escaped me. “What?”
“Please?”
Oh, he was trying to be cute.
“You’re just thankful I took care of you.”
A deep rumble of humor gusted past his mouth. “Beautiful, you shot me once. Conked me on the head tonight. I’m not attracted to you because I’m thankful.”
“Are you a masochist?” I gulped. We kept veering into a sexually charged conversation and I was powerless to stop myself.
“No labels, but I can be a deviant.” He put his hands on my shoulders and lowered his head so his mouth was by my ear. “You make me fucking hard. And if you don’t leave this room right now and continue talking to me in that fuck-me voice, I won’t be liable for what I do next.”
I was panting hard at this point, my feet glued to the orbit of Dom’s magnetic pull, and I couldn’t move.
“I’m going to throw you on that bed, bury my face between your gorgeous thighs, and lick your pussy until you scream my name and not care if I bleed all over you.”
I gasped and stumbled back before I raced out of the room.
