Chapter 24
Knox
Get it together, Wolfe.
He forced air into his lungs, but it went nowhere useful. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He’d never considered himself the type to be turned on by competence, but apparently, all it took was watching Dominic in his element to awaken a competence kink he didn’t know he had.
One step carried him forward. Not a decision, just his body moving. Another step erased the safe distance between them. Dominic watched him come, dark eyes steady and completely unreadable. Knox walked straight into that stare like he had no instinct for self-preservation at all.
He stopped when his shoes almost touched Dominic’s.
A single heartbeat passed. Then Dominic lifted his hand and wrapped it around Knox’s throat with effortless ownership.
His palm was warm; his fingers settled just beneath Knox’s jaw like they belonged there.
Heat shot through him so fiercely his knees threatened to give.
He felt it everywhere—pulse thrumming beneath Dominic’s thumb, a tremor skittering down his spine, his cock aching against the rough zipper of his jeans.
Fuuuck.
“So eager,” Dominic murmured, voice pitched low. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Knox trembled. The world narrowed to that single commanding touch.
Dominic leaned closer, his breath warming Knox’s ear. “You’d drop to your knees right here if I told you, wouldn’t you? Where anyone could see just how desperate you are for me.”
The words slammed into Knox. Lust and shame braided so tightly together they felt the same. He managed only a broken sound, head tipping back in a silent admission.
“That’s what I thought.” Dominic’s gaze moved over Knox’s face before settling on his mouth.
“Show me how obedient you can be,” he whispered.
His free hand rose, two fingers brushing Knox’s lips before pressing gently.
Knox’s brain went blank. His mouth opened, lips sealing around Dominic’s fingers.
“Suck,” Dominic ordered.
Before he knew it, his tongue curled around Dominic’s fingers and he whimpered. He. Fucking. Whimpered.
The sound did something to Dominic. Knox saw it happen. His pupils blew wide, black swallowing nearly all the hazel. He went still in a way that was different from his usual stillness. More focused. More dangerous.
God, why did this feel so good? He sucked harder, cheeks hollowing, and heard Dominic exhale through his teeth.
Oh.
He did it again.
Dominic’s eyelids dropped half-shut.
He felt Dominic’s thumb tighten around his throat, measuring the pulse that was going haywire under his skin.
He’s right, Knox realized, cock throbbing. If he’d told me to kneel I’d already be on the floor.
Dominic’s fingers slid free with a wet sound that felt obscene in the quiet range. Cool air rushed over Knox’s lips, but did absolutely nothing to soothe the hunger still burning through him.
Dominic looked at the glisten he’d left behind, then swept his thumb once across Knox’s mouth. His jaw flexed. “I need to fuck you,” he said, voice scraped raw.
The room tilted. Knox’s pulse went from loud to deafening. Fear clenched around his ribs and a cold wave of panic prickled under his skin.
Dominic’s hand shifted to his jaw. His fingers moved over Knox’s cheek, almost gentle, like he could feel every frantic thought crashing behind Knox’s eyes. “Easy,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean here and now.”
Knox swallowed, nerves buzzing like a live wire. Relief flickered through him, followed by disappointment so swift it embarrassed him.
Dominic’s eyes caught the conflict. His fingers lifted Knox’s face, forcing eye contact. “Tonight,” he said. “My place.”
Nerves screamed you can’t even as every inch of skin begged please. He looked at Dominic, at the dark certainty in his eyes. Knox’s fear was still there; it just wasn’t winning. He managed a shaky nod. “O-okay.”
Dominic’s mouth curved. Not a smile exactly, more like satisfaction settling somewhere deep. “Good,” he said, stepping back.
For a moment Knox just stood there and breathed, tasting the lingering salt of Dominic’s skin on his tongue. Fear fluttered in his gut, but underneath it pulsed a deeper hunger, electric and undeniable.
Tonight.
The word echoed like a shot. He’d show up. He already knew that. Even if every sane part of him understood that whatever happened there would change him for good.
Dominic straightened his shirt as if nothing earth-shattering had just passed between them. “Now,” he said, nodding toward the firing lane. “Let’s finish your lesson.”
* * *
Knox sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed low. The digital alarm glowed red on the nightstand, but he refused to glance at it again. He knew the truth it kept shouting: less than an hour before a black car, driven by one of Dominic’s men, would stop at the curb downstairs.
His pulse thudded everywhere at once. Each beat whispered the same promise Dominic had uttered in that deep voice: I need to fuck you.
Knox shoved upright and paced. Five strides carried him to the window, five strides back. Each turn dragged a fresh wave of adrenaline across nerves skinned raw.
Then his father’s venom shoved its way into the room.
His voice crawled up from the worst corners of his memory, thick with beer and contempt.
Filth. Sick. The words slithered through Knox’s head until his skin felt too tight and bile crept up the back of his throat.
Shame coiled in his gut, a nauseating lump that made him want to scrub himself raw, to prove he was still the kind of son his father wouldn’t spit on.
He pressed a palm to his sternum, but it didn’t help. Every inhale tasted like guilt. The room swayed, dim walls closing in, echoing with slammed doors and the razor-sharp words that had shadowed his childhood.
Had the old man seen this part of him all along? Was that why he kept drilling the poison in—because he’d already guessed? The thought curdled Knox’s stomach. If his father had suspected, then Knox must have spent years burying every flicker of curiosity so deep he couldn’t feel it himself.
I suppressed it, a small voice whispered. I shoved it down so far I forgot it existed.
Knox let that thought settle. The brutal possibility of it.
It almost crushed him.
Almost.
Because even now, alone in his room, he could feel the ghost of Dominic’s gaze, the heat of it searing through the shame. He remembered the way his entire body had answered without hesitation, like it had always known the truth, even when Knox couldn’t face it.
“Enough.” He said it out loud because he needed to hear it.
His father was dead. Ash in the ground, a voice that only had power if Knox let it. But Dominic? He was out there, alive and waiting, offering something fierce and exhilarating.
He crossed to the wardrobe, grabbed a towel, and headed for the bathroom.
Each step felt weighted with intention and purpose.
Each step felt like shedding a layer of the past—leaving the poison of shame and self-denial behind.
Each step felt like moving toward the fire that made him feel more awake than he ever had before.
It was a choice, and for once, Knox was making it with his eyes wide open.
* * *
An hour later the elevator opened and Knox stepped into Dominic’s loft. Everything smelled faintly of cedar, leather, and a darker note Knox couldn’t name but had come to associate with the man who owned this space.
Dominic stood barefoot near the windows, grey sweats riding low on his hips, a plain white tee soft over his shoulders. He held a tumbler of whiskey, city lights flickering across the glass.
The sight knocked a breath from Knox.
He’d never seen Dominic look so unarmored, and the contrast made him more dangerous, not less. Uneven stitches traced his bicep, the small imperfection only sharpening the rest of him.
Dominic’s gaze tracked Knox from feet to eyes. Heated. He lifted a spare glass from the sill. “You want a drink?”
Knox nodded. His throat was too dry for words. He crossed the room and Dominic pressed the glass into his palm, their fingers brushing, heat darting up Knox’s arm.
“You came,” Dominic said.
“I said I would.”
Dominic’s eyes searched his. “Do you still want this?”
Knox’s heart pounded hard enough to shake the whiskey. He met that dark stare and breathed, “Yes.” The word rasped out before he could second-guess it.
Heat flickered across Dominic’s face. He set his glass down with a soft click and pushed off the window, closing the gap until Knox had to tilt his head back to hold his gaze. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked.
Knox shook his head. “Not with a man.”
Dominic nodded, like that matched what he’d expected. Knox’s own question tumbled out. “Have you?”
Dominic’s jaw flexed. “No. Always thought I was straight.” His mouth quirked, half-bitter. “Then you walked in and ruined my math.”
Oh.
A thrill cut through Knox’s nerves. “So we’re both figuring this out.”
“Seems that way.” Dominic studied him, jaw working as if weighing the cost of the next sentence. Then he exhaled. “We need to get this out of our system.” His eyes pinned Knox again. “You’re too damn distracting.”
The admission landed hard.
Disappointment hit first, because it meant this was nothing more than a means to an end. Just something to burn out and be done with it. Relief followed, because if that was true, maybe it would actually work. Maybe it would make everything simple again.
But beneath both lay an unsettling truth: whatever happened tonight would never rinse Dominic from his blood. Dominic was built to intrigue, not to be forgotten, and Knox could already feel the hook set too deep to pull free.
Dominic set Knox’s glass down, then drove him back until his shoulders hit a steel pillar. One hand fisted in his hair, angling his head just right, and then Dominic’s mouth crashed into his.