Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Grace
Pain was the first thing I registered when I woke up.
A dull, persistent ache in my ribs, a sharp sting along my arm where the gash had been bandaged.
My body felt heavy, sluggish, like it had gone through a war and barely survived.
And in a way, it had. I blinked against the dim light filtering into the penthouse, my surroundings slowly coming into focus.
The living room was quiet, too quiet, but I could hear something—footsteps.
Pacing.
I turned my head toward the sound and found Dominic.
He was across the room, standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows, one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other clenching and unclenching at his side. His posture was rigid, his movements agitated, pacing the length of the room like he was one wrong move away from losing it completely.
"Jesus, Beethoven," I muttered, my voice hoarse. "Could you stop pacing? It’s making me dizzy."
He froze.
And then he turned.
The moment his eyes locked onto mine, I knew I was in trouble.
Dominic wasn’t wearing his usual smirk, wasn’t hiding behind the lazy confidence he carried so easily. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark, and when he spoke, his voice was low and controlled in a way that was more dangerous than if he had been shouting.
"You think this is funny?"
I blinked, still groggy, still trying to catch up. "What?"
He moved fast, closing the space between us, stopping just at the edge of the couch where I lay. "You nearly got yourself killed, and you’re cracking jokes?"
The anger in his voice caught me off guard.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the sharp protest of my ribs. "You think I wanted to get hurt?"
Dominic’s eyes flashed. "I think you don’t know when to stop."
My own temper flared at that. "I was doing my job."
"You were being reckless."
"I was getting us evidence!"
"You were getting yourself killed!"
The words hung in the air, vibrating with intensity, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
His chest was rising and falling too fast, his fists clenched at his sides, his entire body thrumming with energy he didn’t know what to do with.
I knew the feeling.
Because I felt it too.
"Do you think I don’t know how dangerous this is?" I asked, my voice lower now, sharp but not as loud. "Do you think I don’t understand the risks?"
Dominic didn’t answer.
So I pushed harder.
"You’re acting like I did this for fun. Like I walked in there without thinking. I was trying to protect you, Dominic!"
His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle tick.
"And I don’t need protecting!"
Something in me snapped.
I shot up from the couch, ignoring the pain, stepping into his space. "No, you just like pretending you’re untouchable. Like you can handle everything alone!"
Dominic stepped closer too, his voice dropping into something rougher, rawer. "You think I don’t know what I can and can’t handle?"
"You’re an idiot if you think you don’t need people looking out for you!"
His breath came fast. So did mine.
We were too close now, the air between us thick, charged, something shifting from anger to something else entirely.
Something I didn’t know how to stop.
Dominic’s eyes darkened, his voice quieter but somehow even more intense.
"You drive me insane."
My pulse slammed against my ribs. "Good."
And then his mouth crashed against mine.
The world tilted.
Everything—the fight, the tension, the anger, the fear—it all bled into the kiss, into the way his hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him.
I gasped against his mouth, and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, his fingers digging into my skin, holding me there like he had lost all control and didn’t give a damn anymore.
For half a second, I fought it.
Because I knew what this was.
I knew that once this line was crossed, there was no going back.
But then Dominic tilted his head, his teeth grazing my bottom lip, and something in me gave in completely.
I clutched at him, my hands fisting into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more, needing everything.
Neither of us stopped.
His hands slid from my waist to my back, to my hips, pressing me against him, his body hot and solid and overwhelming.
And I wanted it.
I wanted him.
The kiss was fast, desperate, reckless, all the tension between us exploding into something neither of us could control anymore.
I didn’t know who would stop it first.
Or if either of us even wanted to stop.
But eventually, oxygen won out, and Dominic broke the kiss, his forehead dropping to mine, his breathing ragged, his grip on my waist still firm, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
My own breaths were just as uneven, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my fingertips.
Dominic’s fingers traced the fabric of my shirt where he had been holding me, his voice hoarse, rough.
"This was a mistake."
I swallowed hard, my own grip on him still tight, still unwilling to move away just yet.
"Yeah." My voice was barely a whisper.
And then—I let out a shaky breath, my head still spinning, my pulse still unsteady—I said the one thing I shouldn’t have.
"But I wanted to make it again."