22. Dom
22
DOM
I tensed when I heard footsteps, but the cadence told me it was Corey. I should have known he’d come to find me if he woke up and I wasn’t there.
“Are you feeling better?” He asked as he entered the kitchen. “You must be.”
“I am. I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I came down here.” He took in the flour on the counter, and the dough I was mixing.
“You’re baking again?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t feel like working.”
“I think you work too much.”
“Not since you got here.” I hadn’t been able to concentrate for shit.
“But aren’t I your work? Isn’t protecting me your current assignment?”
“You really do just get cheekier every day you’re here, don’t you?”
He smiled. “Dom, I’m not afraid of you.”
“You were the first night.”
“I thought you were going to shoot me.”
“What would be the point of assigning me to be your bodyguard if I was going to kill you? I don’t fuck up like that.”
“I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into. I’m not sure I do yet, but I’m glad you’re protecting me.”
I thought about the time I’d lain in bed incapacitated, barely aware of my surroundings. “I did a shit job of it today.”
“You can’t be at the top of your game every second.”
If only my world was that forgiving. “You’re wrong about that. It’s exactly what you have to do in my line of work.”
“Is your headache gone completely?”
“It is, which is interesting because it usually lingers much longer than this. I usually wake after taking the medication with still at least a dull throbbing that irritates me even if it doesn’t truly hurt.”
“But you’re all right now?”
“I am. Maybe you’re just that good of a nurse.”
“Maybe the massage helped. Or having someone care helped the tension go away quicker.”
I looked down at the dough I was stirring. I didn’t want to think about the implications of that.
“Tell me about what you’re making,” Corey said. He walked around the kitchen island and hopped up on the counter.
I frowned at him. “You can’t sit there.”
“I’m doing it, aren’t I? I mean, it’s pretty sturdy. I think it’ll hold me up.”
I growled. “You’re really trying my patience.”
“Come on, lighten up. It’s not going to hurt anything.”
It would be best to ignore his antics. “I’m making scones.”
“So you don’t confine yourself to Italian pastries?”
“I’m versatile.”
Corey raised a brow. “Are you now? That’s…surprising.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he laughed.
“So, tell me what’s in there.” He pointed at the bowl.
“Flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and I’m working cold butter into it now.”
“With that?” He pointed at the pastry blender I was using.
“Yes. You’ve never used one?”
“At my best, I’m capable of making slice-and-bake cookies or brownies from a mix. That’s about the extent of my baking experience.”
At least he was eating better here. “I can teach you how to make cookies that would taste much better.”
“You’d teach me? Really?”
I probably shouldn’t have suggested that. I should try to distance myself from Corey, not find ways to bring us closer, but I wasn’t going to take back the offer. “Yes, come here. You can start your lessons now. Scones are fairly simple.”
Corey huffed. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“I’m the expert. Trust me.”
He looked up and caught my gaze. “I do.”
“Then get off the counter and come over here.”
He jumped down, stood beside me. I stepped back and moved to him until he was in front of the bowl, and I was behind him. I could feel the heat from his body, and I wanted to press even closer.
“Here.” I picked up the pastry blender. “Take this.” Corey wrapped his hand around the handle, and I put my hand on top of his.
He looked over his shoulder at me. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were ice cold.”
“My heart is. Remember that.”
“You’re wrong, but I won’t force you to admit that yet.” He turned back to look at the dough, and I showed him how to work the cutter in a rocking motion, slowly working the chunks of butter into the flour until it was a coarse meal.
“Now we add buttermilk and currants.”
“I’ve heard of currants, but I don’t think I’ve ever eaten one. I’m not even sure I’ve seen one.”
“They look like raisins, but smaller. See.” I opened a plastic bag and poured some into a measuring cup.
“Cool.” Corey reached out and popped a few in his mouth. “Not as sweet as raisins, but I can work with that.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Now add them to the mixture and pour in the milk.” He did as I said. “Now stir it together.”
As he started to stir, I fought the urge to put my hands on his hips and pull his body against mine. I wanted to feel him against me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about this morning when I was in such pain, the way he touched me so tenderly, the way it mattered to him that I was hurting, the way he wanted to fix it. When he’d worked my tense muscles with heavenly ease, I was in too much pain to do anything about it, but damn, if my head had not been pounding, I would have pounded him.
I kept my hands on the counter, enclosing his body, but not touching him.
“This doesn’t seem right,” he said. “I don’t think there’s enough liquid in here.”
“Just keep working it a little bit more with the fork, then we’ll turn it out and bring the dough together.”
“But it’s so dry. How’s it going to make a scone?”
“You’ll see. Trust me.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“Stir,” I ordered.
He focused on the dough again. When he’d gotten it a little more mixed, I took his hand. “That’s enough. Now tip the bowl and turn it out onto the counter on top of the flour.”
He did as I said, and the dough fell out in several pieces. “Now use your hands, press it together, and then lift it and fold it on itself.”
“Like this?” He smashed the dough down like he was trying to press it into a pizza pan.
“No, like this.” I demonstrated. “Work from the sides. Squish it in like you’re trying to make a thick disc.”
I guided his hands. I meant to let go and leave him to do it on his own, but I couldn’t stop touching him. I was so fucking into him, and it scared the shit out of me.
I kept hold of his hands, showing him how to lift one side of the dough, fold it in on another, and press it down. “Now turn it a quarter turn.” We went through the process several more times. “Now shape it into an eight-inch disc.”
“Eight inches, huh? That’s a good size.”
“Corey, focus on the scones.”
He sighed dramatically. “I missed being able to touch you. It was so good sleeping next to you, so warm, tucked in your bed, but I wanted so much more. I wouldn’t have dared to wake you, but I thought about it. I thought about finding out if sucking you off would make your headache go away.”
“God dammit, Corey, we’re never going to get these in the oven if you keep acting like that.”
“You shouldn’t be so fucking hot.”
I huffed. “I never tried to seduce you. I tried to ignore you.”
“I’m hard to ignore.”
“I noticed.”
He looked back at me smiling. “You talk to me now.”
“Self-defense.”
He pressed on the dough, but his circle was uneven and much thicker on one side than another. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Good. I’ll show you how to make it better.” I smoothed the dough, and he placed his hands on mine, lightly feeling my movements. His skin was warm and soft, not rough like mine. I couldn’t help myself. I raised one of his hands to my lips and licked his palm.
He groaned. “Oh my God, don’t stop.” I kept licking his hand, then took his soft fingers into my mouth, and sucked them. “That feels so fucking good, but we’re never going to get the scones in the oven if we keep doing this.”
His mocking tone made me growl. “Fucking asshole.” I yanked his fingers from my mouth as he tried to push them deeper. “Use the bench scraper to cut the circle into eight pieces.”
“Is that this thing?” He picked up the bench scraper.
“Yes. It’s good for cutting dough and also for scraping the bits of dough left on the counter.”
“I love that you know all of this.”
“I know a lot of things.” Somehow my hands had ended up back on his hips.
“I’d like to know more. I bet you could teach me so many things.”
I smacked his ass. “You said you weren’t innocent.”
“I didn’t say I’ve done everything.” He looked over his shoulder. “Have you?”
“Close.”
His eyes widened. “Fuck.”
“Cut the scones.”
He focused on the dough again. “Do I do it like cutting a pizza?”
“Yes. Make eight pieces.” I forced myself to step away while he took care of slicing. I pulled a pan from the cabinet and covered it with parchment paper.
“Lay the scones out on this pan. The oven is already preheated.” He scooped the scones off the counter and began to place them. “Give them enough space. They’ll expand as they cook.”
“I know that from making slice-and-bake.”
“Right.”
When he was done, I took the pan, put it in the oven, and turned the timer on.
“Twelve minutes. That’s not long.”
“That’s one of the nice things about scones. It’s a quick process.”
“So what do we do while we wait?” He hopped back up on the counter, leaned back on his hands, and spread his legs.
“What we should be doing is cleaning up.”
He pouted at me. “That doesn’t sound very fun.”
“You are trouble.”
“And you’re grumpy, but I know how to fix that.”
I couldn’t resist him. I moved between his legs, gripping his thighs and widening them even more. His lips parted as he stared at me. His gaze dropped to my lips as he licked his own.
“You’re fucking mesmerizing,” he said.
“No, you are.” He sat up. He reached for me, and he ran his fingers over the scar on my cheek the way he had before.
“Are you ready for me to touch you now?”
I exhaled, letting myself enjoy his fingers trailing over my cheek. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You go from hard to soft so fast.”
I gave him a glare. “That’s insulting.”
“See, you can joke around too.”
“With you, I can.” Why was I admitting that? Why was I making this even worse? Why was I letting myself fall even harder for him? Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to fall for him— or anyone—at all. I couldn’t. I didn’t need anyone.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
I couldn’t tell him, so I kissed him instead. He cupped my face, holding me to him as our tongues tangled. He moved closer to the edge of the counter, wrapping his legs around my waist, as we both fell into the kiss. It grew hard and rough; the way he wanted me to fuck him.
I wanted him so badly, but I shouldn’t. I wasn’t right for him. He belonged in the light, not in the darkness.
There was one more thing I could tell him, one thing that might finally push him away. I ended the kiss and stepped back.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“There are still things I haven’t told you.”
“Okay, look, you’re an assassin. You’re in a mafia family. You were married to the woman that’s after me. She’s a terrible person. She almost killed you. That’s a lot already, and none of it has mattered to me. It’s probably because I’ve lost my mind or something, but it’s not going to make me stop wanting you.”
“This might.”
He tensed. “Then don’t tell me.”
“You need to know. And, fuck, I need to confess it.”
“Is this something else you’ve not told your sons?”
“This is something I’ve not told anyone.”
“Why tell me now?” The wariness in his eyes was painful to see.
“You deserve to truly understand the man that I am. You should know this before you trust me with your life.”
“I already trust you with my life, with everything. You would have done anything to save me the other night. You put yourself at risk even when I told you not to, and?—”
I held up my hand. “Please listen.” Thankfully, he stopped speaking. If he’d kept going, I might never have revealed the secret I’d held for so long. I drew in a deep breath. My stomach was in a knot, and my throat was so tight I could barely swallow. I’d kept this secret locked deep inside, but it was time to bring it to the light.
“I told you that when Lisa first appeared as I stood waiting for the man I was hunting, I thought she’d been kidnapped.”
Corey nodded. “That’s right.”
“I lied to you. For years afterward, I lied to myself. I knew the moment I saw her that I’d been deceived. She carried herself differently, and when she smiled at me, she wasn’t relieved, she was triumphant. I realized immediately that she’d set a trap for me. I had my gun in my hand. I’m fast, and I’m exact. I had the opportunity to kill her, but I hesitated. She was my fucking wife. I didn’t love her, but….”
“You’d been married to her for several years. You lived together. Of course, you hesitated to take a kill shot.”
I wasn’t sure if his understanding was better or worse than the anger I’d expected. “I was an idiot, and I almost died because of it, and now, look what she’s done. It’s my fault you’re in this situation.”
Corey shook his head. “No. She manipulated you.”
“People don’t manipulate me. I’m the manipulator.”
“Dom, you can’t blame yourself for this. You’re human; you reacted in a human way.”
“I was trained to be a killing machine. My humanity shouldn’t have gotten in the way.”
“You can’t live your whole life without making mistakes.”
“I don’t accept mistakes from those who work for me, and I sure as hell don’t accept them from myself.”
He slumped, his gaze looking down at his lap. “If you believe that, you’re never going to be able to fully trust yourself or to fully be happy.”
My chest ached. I didn’t want to upset him, but I had to do what was best. “I’ve always focused on survival. Happiness wasn’t meant for people in my position. I was taught to be a weapon, and that’s what I was until the moment I hesitated.”
He raised his head, eyes suddenly fierce. “Do you really think I won’t trust you because I’ll worry that you’ll hesitate again?”
I turned away as tears burned my eyes. I hadn’t cried when I was in the burn unit, and I wasn’t going to cry now. I braced myself against the sink and looked out at the night.
“Come away from the window,” Corey said. “Lisa or one of her men could be out there again.”
“If she came herself, she’d do her best to ram her way through the front door and confront me. She wouldn’t hide out there, not now that she’s announced herself.”
When I didn’t move, Corey came to join me, pressing himself against my back and wrapping his arms around me. I looked down as he toyed with the ties of my robe. “You don’t have to cover yourself up. You can be exactly who you are with me.”
He was talking about more than physical nakedness, but he was wrong. I couldn’t be myself with him. I was a weapon, a monster, someone cruel who could torture a person until they begged to be killed. Corey didn’t deserve to see that kind of darkness. He shouldn’t even be near it, and yet when I touched him, when I felt him hard against me, when I pushed into his willing body, I felt more pleasure than I ever had before. Sex with him was more than just fucking. It filled my soul. What would I do when Lisa was dead, the trial was passed, and Corey left? Would I ever feel pleasure again?
There wouldn’t be anyone else that made me feel like he did, I was sure of that.
I laid my hands over his and pulled his arms tighter around me. “It’s going to take me a lot longer than a few days to get used to being naked in front of you or anyone else.”
I felt his hands clench. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head against my back, but I turned to face him and moved us away from the window. “Tell me.”
His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark. “I don’t like thinking about you with anybody else.”
I smiled. “Feeling possessive?”
“Maybe.”
“I like it.” I hadn’t even been thinking about fucking anyone else. I’d been thinking about being in shorts at the gym or enjoying the pool at Lucien’s country estate. My naked body was for Corey. Only for Corey.