Chapter 5 - Eunice
Eunice
I CRASHED INTO the diner’s restroom and slammed the door shut, locking it as though a madman was right behind me. My forehead hit the cool, splintered wood, and for a second I just stayed there, eyes shut, breathing in the stale smell of lemon cleaner.
I’d run from Dom.
I’d lied about needing the restroom. Because my body was a traitor, and it wouldn’t listen. Heat spread low in my belly, insistent and demanding, even as my mind tried to warn me this was wrong.
Less than an hour ago, my heart was dust in my hands over someone I’d been so sure was the love of my life. Now I was hiding here, trying to catch my breath because a stranger in a hoodie made me feel things Derek never came close to.
This wasn’t about Derek anymore. This was about the way Dom looked at me in that car… as though I was someone worth his time.
Do you do this often? Derek’s condescending voice whispered in my head. Mistake kindness?
My chest compressed under an invisible weight until it became hard to breathe properly. Dom had offered a distraction, nothing more. He was just a kind stranger offering to numb the pain.
But the way he kissed me... the hunger in his eyes… I touched my lips, still tender from his mouth. Still tasting him.
You’re doing it again, the voice reminded me. That’s what you thought with Derek, too, and you were wrong.
I gripped the edge of the sink and forced myself to look in the mirror. The woman staring back was a wreck. Cheeks flushed, eyes too bright, lips swollen and darker than before. I looked like that girl who puts out in a diner parking lot because she’s sad and easy.
A sharp knock rattled the door, and I jolted, my own reflection jumping with me.
Every nerve in my body was telling me I shouldn’t open that door. Because deep down I knew… Dom wasn’t a fix. He was a wildfire, and I’d be ash when he was done.
“Eunice.” Another knock.
My shaky fingers hovered over the lock. My mind screamed don’t. Hide. Protect what’s left of my heart… of my dignity. Walk away before I make a fool of myself again.
He doesn’t actually want you. He’s just killing time in a small town.
You think I don’t know that? Another voice—the broken and furious one—fought back. Derek just lectured me about how delusional I am!
The light flickered once, and my hand was already turning the lock.
Just tonight. I could lie to myself for a few hours. I stared at my reflection—at this desperate creature I’d become.
Please let me feel wanted. Let me pretend someone could want me too. Let me feel beautiful, even if it’s just an act.
The lock clicked.
Tomorrow I’ll be smarter. Tomorrow I’ll remember this was just pity. But tonight… Let me believe the lie.
I pulled the door open, and there he was—my destruction.
Dom filled the doorway, his shoulders so broad they blocked the light from outside.
His eyes were so dark I almost didn’t recognize him.
Before I could blink, his hands gripped my hips, lifting me just enough to move me backward into the small room.
The door slammed shut, the lock clicking, and my back hit the cold tile with a thud.
His knee wedged between my thighs, forcing them apart, and suddenly, I was reaching for him, fingers twisting into his jacket as though he was the only anchor keeping me from drowning.
“You ran,” he murmured, thumb swiping my bottom lip. “Are you scared?”
Yes. Terrified. Of how much I want this. Of how stupid I’ll feel tomorrow. The confession trembled on my tongue, but before I could shape it into words, before I could tell him, his mouth crashed into mine. All teeth and tongue and demanding heat.
“Tell me you want this.”
More than I’ve ever wanted anything. The thoughts screamed in my head, begging for a chance.
His hands slid under my jacket, under my blouse, his fingers brushing the loose cup of my bra, and my breast spilled into his waiting palm, molding to his touch as though I was clay. His tongue dove deeper, all the way to my throat, and I couldn’t breathe around the want.
My brain tried to form a protest—the ugly fluorescent lights, the grime on the floor, the fact that anyone could knock—but his thumb swept my nipple, and a humiliating sound escaped my throat.
No one had ever touched me like this. Like they couldn’t get enough. It should have shamed me, being this needy, using one man to erase another. Seeking validation from a stranger’s hand. But I was already arching into Dom’s palm, begging for more of this beautiful, terrible lie.
“Dom—”
His name dissolved into a moan the moment he started trailing his wet tongue down the column of my throat. His teeth grazed the frantic pulse there, a gentle bite that sent a shock straight between my legs.
Then his mouth found my nipple, hot and wet and insistent. I grabbed fistfuls of his hair to keep from crying out. His tongue circled once… twice… a maddening tease before he drew me deep into his mouth.
“Dom,” I panted, tipping my head back, my voice sounding raw and unrecognizable.
My own hands were moving without permission, sliding under his shirt, my palms flat against the hard, warm planes of his stomach. He groaned against my skin, and the vibration traveled through me, anchoring me to this moment. This felt real… more real than my own good sense screaming at me to stop.
His hand slipped lower, skimming my waistband, fingers pausing there for a second before sliding under the fabric. My stomach clenched, and I bit back a whine.
“Still thinking about him?”
The question startled me, and as if summoned, Derek’s face flashed in my mind. Don’t make it weird… dial it back, all right?
“No,” I whispered.
“Good.” Dom’s teeth nipped my earlobe, sending another shiver down my spine. “Even if you were, I’ll fuck every trace out.”
Then he was kissing me again, deep and wet and consuming. I focused on the sensation, on the slide of his tongue, the ache between my thighs.
He turned me around without warning, and suddenly my palms were hitting the wall.
In the mirror above the sink, I could see him.
His dark head was bent, his jaw tight with concentration as his hands worked me out of my clothes.
The hunger in his eyes… I wanted to believe it wasn’t just for anyone, but for me.
Is this real? The question burned. Or is he just this good at pretending? At making women feel special?
I was being nice to you because you seemed lonely. Derek answered for me, his voice cold and certain in my memory.
My heart squeezed painfully, and I had to look away from my own reflection because I couldn’t stand seeing the desperate hope written all over my face. Stupid, stupid, don’t you dare read more into this.
“Watch us, Eunice,” Dom growled into my ear, and the command pulled me out of my downward spiral, forcing my eyes back to the mirror.
His hand slid down my side. With a flick, the button gave way with a small pop. The rasp of the zipper was a hiss against my skin, raising goosebumps, but his palms were there immediately, skimming over bared flesh and chasing away the cold.
In my periphery, I saw his other hand move, unbuckling his belt. The leather slipped free with a soft slap. Then his button, then his zipper… each movement drawn out… while he watched my face in the reflection as though he wanted to see every reaction play across my features.
My breath hitched when he freed himself, and I tore my gaze from his eyes, letting it drift lower… to the hard length of his arousal… to the way his hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping once… twice.
For me. The thought was a heady poison. He’s this hard because of me.
Or because you’re here and willing, the cruel voice said, refusing to shut up.
His mouth found my ear again, his tongue darting out to trace the sensitive shell. “Keep looking.”
My throat was so dry, I had to swallow hard just to breathe. I wanted to look away, to hide from whatever truth the mirror was showing me, from the desperate creature I’d become. But I couldn’t. I was caught in the fantasy Dom was offering.
His hands moved back to me, sliding down my pants with a rough yank that made me stumble forward slightly. The denim was tight, clinging to my hips, and he had to peel it down inch by inch.
He dropped to a crouch behind me, his breath scorching against the curve of my ass. His hands fisted my jeans and yanked them down with harsh, uneven tugs. Another hard pull, and they bunched around one ankle.
My panties were next. He didn’t even bother with finesse, just hooked his thumbs under the elastic and wrenched them down in one go. Suddenly, I was bare from the waist down.
In the mirror, I saw myself—flushed, half-naked… trembling with anticipation and fear and need.
I also looked… wanted.
Is this what he sees? I searched the reflection for an answer. Or am I just imagining it again?
Dom’s eyes in the mirror met mine. Dark. Intense. Hungry. Maybe I was really delusional.
“Look at you,” he growled, his voice so low. “All fuckin’ mine.”
Mine? The word sounded like a promise I had no right to claim. No one had ever said that to me. My father never did. Derek certainly didn’t. But Dom… he said it as though he meant it.
He doesn’t, reason insisted.
“Yes,” I whispered the words I wanted so badly to be true. “I’m all yours.”
His hands slid back to my hips, rough palms branding my skin, before dropping lower to grip my inner thighs. The touch was possessive, demanding, and the broken part of me bloomed under the attention.
“Open,” he said, not waiting for a response as his fingers dug in, forcing my legs apart. The muscles burned with the sudden stretch, but I welcomed it. Anything to drown out the chaos in my head.
“Keep it like that.” He nudged me wider, ensuring I stayed open. “You’re so goddamn ready for me, aren’t you?”
My breath came in shallow puffs as I felt the blunt head of his cock around my entrance, hot and impossibly thick, and I knew this was the point of no return.
“No fucking condom, Eunice.”