Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
B ecca felt Dom’s lips crush down on hers, and everything inside her melted.
Hell yes.
She’d started this, sure, but the way he’d been looking at her—like she was the cream on top of his favorite dessert—had set something off inside her. She wanted to be that cream.
Her heart pounded as she clutched at his smooth, hard shoulders. Ever since he’d thrown himself over her in the marketplace, shielding her from the blast, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Was that wrong?
Maybe it was some primal need to feel protected, or maybe it was just because it had been so damn long since she’d been touched by a man. Either way, she wasn’t pulling back now.
She opened her mouth, inviting him in, and let out a low moan as their tongues met. He didn’t just kiss—he claimed her, tasted her, and she felt it all the way down to her toes. Her whole body responded, letting him explore her mouth so intimately it almost felt indecent.
Delicious. Irresistible.
She clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as his rock-solid chest pressed against hers, his hands gripping her waist like he couldn’t let go. The aggression in his kiss, mixed with a tenderness that took her breath away, lit her up inside.
He smelled good, too—like sun and sea, with a faint trace of beer on his breath. Needing more, she stretched up on her tiptoes, hands winding around his neck, feeling the tickle of his hair against her arms.
More .
She pressed herself against him, not giving a damn what he thought.
Dom matched her intensity, stepping forward and pinning her against the wall. They were all over each other, and Becca was grateful for the cool slats at her back, because every inch of her was burning where his hard, ripped body crushed against hers. She held on tight, legs barely holding her up.
Then his hands moved, cupping her ass, lifting her, and sending a shockwave straight through her core. She gasped as the solid length of him pressed into her.
Sweet baby cheeses.
Pinned between him and the wall, she could feel his heartbeat pounding against her—or maybe that was hers. It didn’t matter. They were pressed together, moving as one, their need tangled up in a messy, hungry knot.
There was nothing gentlemanly about him now. His stubble scraped her chin as he devoured her, and his thigh slipped between her legs, forcing them apart. Her body betrayed her, grinding against him, a groan escaping her lips as she tangled her fingers in his thick hair.
He was breathing hard, his hips moving slow and deliberate against her, his hands gripping her ass tighter, pulling her closer.
Oh, God. She was a trembling, slick mess, barely holding it together. It was a miracle she didn’t fall apart right there. Just when she thought she might lose it completely, he broke away, gasping for breath.
“Dom,” she whispered, staring at him, her mind still spinning.
What the hell just happened?
He slowly let her down, her back sliding against the wall until her feet found the ground again. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and his eyes were dark with something raw, something that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.
“Becca, I…” He didn’t finish.
No words needed.
“I know.” She breathed out, trying to steady herself, running a shaky hand through her hair. She was still buzzing with adrenaline, with need—hell, with shock . That was more intense than anything she’d ever felt before.
Dom shut his eyes, like he was cutting himself off. “You’d better go before you’re missed.”
She swallowed hard, reaching for the door, her pulse still racing. He was right. She needed to go, but not because she was worried about being missed. She needed to leave because if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she’d ever find the strength to walk out.
But Dom didn’t try to stop her as she slipped out the door and stumbled down the stairs into the clearing.
Run, the voice in her head screamed. Run while you still can.
Refusing to look back, she quickened her pace, breaking into a full sprint down the overgrown path toward the house.
Becca was still shaking by the time she got back. Running into Carlos hadn’t helped. He’d been standing by the pool, watching the terrace, and had seen her emerge from the path leading to Dom’s cabin.
“It’s late for a walk,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her, taking in her messy appearance.
“I like it when it’s cooler,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice even.
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t say more, just stood there watching as she hurried past, heading to her apartment through the garden.
Shit, that was close.
She was going to have to be more careful. Then she shook her head. What the hell was she thinking? Of course, she wasn’t going to visit Dom again. There wasn’t going to be a next time. That’d be insane.
She collapsed onto the couch in her small living room, heart still pounding. One, her boss would lose his mind if he ever found out, and two, she didn’t need that kind of trouble in her life.
Not that kind of trouble. Dangerous. Destructive. Addictive.
Stop.
Hadn’t she learned her lesson years ago? This was why she hadn’t let herself get close to anyone for the last decade. No strings, no ties, no commitment, no liabilities. Keep it simple.
Not that Dom was offering any of those things, but it wasn’t him she was scared of—it was herself. Being in his arms had felt so right, too right. Like she belonged there. Did he feel it too? It was strange, feeling that kind of protection from someone like him—a man who made his living dealing in violence.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced down, her stomach flipping at the thought that it might be him.
What if it was ? Would she go back?
No way. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
She exhaled when she saw it was only Chrissy, Ramirez’s wife. Maybe she’d heard about the explosion and was checking in.
“Chrissy, how are you?” she answered, trying to keep her voice light.
What greeted her wasn’t relief, but sobbing.
Becca’s heart sank. “Chrissy, take a breath. I can’t understand you. What’s wrong?”
“He’s having an affair,” Chrissy blurted between sobs.
Becca winced. Of course he is. Ramirez had never struck her as a faithful husband.
“He’s screwing the au pair,” Chrissy spat, then laughed bitterly. “How typical .”
The au pair. Becca groaned inwardly. The poor girl had been picking up the kids from boarding school on Fridays, bringing them home for the weekend. Clearly, she’d been offering extra services lately.
“How’d you find out?” Becca asked, knowing this was going to be bad.
“She was acting different around him. You know, that stupid, secretive way you get when you’re in love but trying to hide it. So, I confronted her. She confessed, so I fired her.”
Of course you did, Becca thought.
“What about Ramirez? Did you talk to him?”
“I did.” The venom in Chrissy’s voice was palpable. “He said if I left him, he’d take the girls. Said I’d never see them again.”
Her voice broke again into tears. “He threatened me, Becca.”
Becca clenched her jaw. Of course he did. Ramirez had the money, the power, and in cases like this, that’s all it took to hold someone’s life in a chokehold. Chrissy had nothing of her own, no leverage. Everything was tied to him. It was why Becca had never let herself get trapped like that. It was too easy to lose yourself.
“Do you want to get together and talk it over?” Becca offered. “You could come by tomorrow.”
“I’m not coming near that place,” Chrissy hissed, her words slurred from booze. “It’s your fucking boss who put him up to this. Alek Markov is a bastard.”
Becca grimaced. That wasn’t hard to believe. Whether it was Markov’s advice, his shady lawyers, or just the general aura of power he exuded, Chrissy wasn’t wrong. Markov wasn’t exactly a shining example of virtue.
“I know things,” Chrissy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He thinks I don’t, but I do.”
Becca sat up straighter. “What things, Chrissy?”
“I’m not as dumb as I look. If he knew what I’d done…” Her laugh was bitter, broken.
Becca’s pulse picked up. What the hell had she done?
“Listen, Chrissy, let’s meet up and?—”
“Like that’s gonna help.”
Becca sighed. “Okay. But I’m here if you need to talk.”
“How can you stand it?” Chrissy wailed. “How can you work for him? You’re just as trapped as I am, Becca. He’s got you right where he wants you. Just like Ramirez has me.”
The line went dead.
Becca let the phone drop onto the couch, rubbing her hands over her face. Chrissy was more than drunk; she was a wreck. Who could blame her? Her husband was cheating, her marriage was crumbling, and she could lose her kids.
Poor Chrissy.
Becca shook her head. There wasn’t much she could do for her except be a shoulder to cry on. Ramirez was a prick. After Markov, she hadn’t met anyone more ruthless, ambitious, or self-serving. Chrissy must’ve known what she was getting into when she married him. The real surprise was that they’d lasted this long. Their girls were teenagers already.
But who was she to judge? Maybe Chrissy, like her, was just drawn to the wrong kind of man.
She headed for the shower, hoping to wash off the heavy weight of the phone call. But even when she stepped out, her skin flushed pink and shiny, she didn’t feel any cleaner.
Chrissy’s situation hit closer than she’d expected. That’s what happens when you tie your life to someone else’s. When you hand over your freedom. You’re stuck with them, for better or worse. Sure, Chrissy could leave, but at what cost? Lose her kids? Or stay in a loveless marriage with a man she despised?
Becca shivered despite the warm night air. Was that what was in store for her? A life tied to someone who saw her as property?
Her thoughts drifted to Dom. His lips. His hands on her, gripping her, lifting her. She let out a long breath.
That kiss—hell, that whole moment—had to be the first and last time. She deserved more than a fling with a gun-running merc. Even if he was an insanely good kisser.
One more year. She could make it that long. And then she’d leave. Markov would understand—hell, he’d probably expect it. She’d hand in her notice and get the hell out of there.
Somewhere new. Somewhere she could start fresh.
Somewhere she could finally be free .