Stephanie let the shower run as she sank down onto the closed toilet and tried not to cry.
She didn’t cry. Not anymore. Not ever again.
Not even when Dalshie had almost killed the man who somehow had managed to hold onto a huge chunk of her heart — despite the years, despite their past.
But seeing Dominic like that — prone, bloodied, pale, and so, so still — had shattered the barbed exterior protecting her feelings.
She hadn’t wanted to lose him.
It had been such a visceral reaction, felt in the depths of her soul, her cells, her memories. She couldn’t lose him.
Morgan’s arrival had been the only thing that kept her from freaking out right there in the alley.
He’d helped her get Dom up to the room, to safety, but hadn’t wanted to teleport him directly to the Colony. He’d been worried that transporting Dom such a distance might kill him.
And that was the crux of her problem, wasn’t it?
That she’d almost lost him.
That she was somehow drawn to the man who’d basically kicked her out of her home and isolated her from her family.
No.
That wasn’t fair.
She’d been party to her isolation, had been unable to deal with the guilt of what had happened to the girls. So she’d left.
Run.
Which had done her a fat lot of good. Because she was right back in the same damned place, with the same damned draw to Dominic. Unable to act on it, unable to move on from that catastrophic night.
Shoving to her feet, she yanked out her ponytail then shucked her clothes. The water was scorching hot — not that she minded. The heat was necessary to wash away the rancid stink of the Dalshie, the ice of those painful memories.
It was a good burn.
The best kind, she thought, as the sting of the water flowed down her torso and legs, rinsed away the filth from the alley, the crimson of Dom’s blood. But it was almost punishing in its intensity, and there was still a small part of her that thought she deserved the punishment — whether it be too-hot water or isolation from friends, family, and home.
Which was seriously messed up.
Steph sighed as she dunked her hair under the water. “I am so incredibly screwed up.”
“No. No, you’re not.”
Dom’s voice on the other side of the shower curtain made her shriek. She popped her head out, clutching the thin plastic material to her body.
His eyes flashed down. Hers followed suit… and she mentally groaned. The white curtain was stuck to her body and essentially see-through. She was all but giving him an X-rated peep show.
The door cracked open as Morgan started to push his way in. “Everything ok—?“
“Stay the hell out,” Dom growled.
Steph’s gaze rolled heavenward, and she prayed for patience. “I’m fine, Morgan. Thank you.”
Dom didn’t say anything further, just shoved Morgan out then slammed and locked the door.
She let the curtain drop away, stepped back into the stream of water, and squealed.
The water was really freaking hot. A fact she was much more aware of now than she had been ten minutes before.
But before she had a chance to reach for the handle — to turn down the heat — the shower curtain was ripped back.
“What is it?” Dom asked, frantic, his gaze tracing her body as she scrambled to cover the pertinent bits. “Are you hurt?”
But as he searched her for injuries, the heavy weight of his stare transformed. It heated as it roamed over her, threatened to incinerate her, was hotter than the water at her back.
Then his eyes narrowed, and he reached past her to turn off the water.
“You’ll scald yourself.”
Steph glanced down, surprised at the fierce tone of his statement. But then his fingers grazed her side, and she winced. Her skin felt raw, rubbed into submission.
“Too hot,” he murmured and stepped back, reaching for a towel.
Her eyes flicked down, saw that he was right. Her torso was painted in swathes of bright red, marred in a similar pattern as Dom’s blood had marked her skin not twenty minutes before.
“I needed to get clean.”
His expression went blank, the heat dissipating as quickly as it had come on.
He wrapped the soft cotton around her gently, as though he were swaddling a baby, and Steph felt another piece inside of her shift, move aside, and leave an opening.
It frightened her — petrified her, really — that little vulnerability.
But it also broke through the ice that had encased her for so long, made her feel… like herself, like a real person with real feelings.
Not the closed-off version she’d been pretending to be. The bitch. The frosty princess who never let anyone in.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it?
She hadn’t let Dom in. He’d stormed through her barriers, a white knight on horseback, and broke through the siege surrounding her heart.
Perhaps that should make her feel violated. Taken advantage of.
It didn’t.
“Come here,” he murmured, sinking onto the toilet and grabbing her waist, practically lifting her out of the tub.
“You shouldn’t.”
“The day I couldn’t lift a little thing like you would be a sad, sad one.”
“But you’re hurt.” It was a weak protest, because the wide breadth of his chest, the strength of his hands, his arms, were more tempting than ambrosia.
She wanted to lean against him and let him take her burdens. She couldn’t, though, knew she needed to shoulder them herself.
But she wanted to.
Scary thought that was.
“Injured or not, you hardly weigh anything, Steph.” He pulled her into his lap. “Let me do this one small thing. After everything—“ His voice broke. “—just let me do this for you.”
So that was how she found herself, skin sore, naked except for a thin towel, and perched on Dom’s thigh, trying not to melt against the mass of warm, hard muscles.
For a moment, Steph sat stiffly, holding herself away from Dom’s body for fear of hurting him, for fear of getting too close and letting him permeate her defenses even further.
But then, it all became too much.
Because he was already inside of her, had been from the time they’d simply existed as friends, from the moment she’d felt more but had been unable to act, from the moment he’d shattered her heart and told her to go.
She sank against him, leaned heavily against those capable muscles.
He sucked in a breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, struggling for the previous distance. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what—?”
The reality of the situation hit her — or rather was pressed firmly against her backside.
She leaned back slightly, raised a brow.
Dom’s lips twitched. “Not to quote Morgan, but I’m a man. You’re a beautiful, naked—“ His eyes were hot as they traced her exposed skin. “—woman squirming on my lap. I’d have to be dead not to respond. And… and it’s been a really long time for me.”
Her gaze snapped to his, took in the rueful expression adorning his face. “Noted,” she murmured then threw every last bit of caution to the wind and leaned against his chest.
She might get burned again, might have her heart broken for the second time.
But she had this. For the moment, she had Dom’s arms around her and rightness seeping into her bones.