Page 18 of Murder & Mayhem (Bloody Desires #9)

JAMESON

D ominic was hard. He was trying to ignore it and act like he wasn’t, but I could see it.

Hell, the neighbors could probably see it through the wall.

Those sweatpants were obscene. And the man wasn’t wearing underwear.

Which maybe was a thing for him, since he hadn’t given me any either.

I’d considered putting on my dirty pair from earlier, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Besides, the joggers I’d been given were a little loose on me, so I was completely covered.

Not that I was hard. Nope. I was fucking broken.

Not even before, in the shower, when I’d had the hottest, sweetest, only slightly unhinged man on his knees in front of me.

I’d stayed soft. He had been touching my fucking dick and nothing.

Not a thing. Okay, so that wasn’t totally true.

I’d definitely felt . . . something. My stomach had been all swoony, the pleasure so intense that it had been hard to stay on my feet.

My chest had ached with it, and I could barely breathe.

As much as I’d been struggling to keep it together, my cock hadn’t given a fuck, I guessed.

Dominic had noticed. How could he not? He hadn’t said anything, but he had to have been wondering what the fuck was going on.

I’d almost blurted out, “I’m gay and you’re hot,” just so he’d known it was only my dick being a weirdo, nothing else.

But . . . that would have been very inappropriate in that situation.

Besides, as much as I wished I were normal, I didn’t want sex or anything sex adjacent.

Though, if I ever changed my mind, it would be with Dominic.

After he’d walked out and closed the door of the bathroom, leaving me feeling claustrophobic and panicky, I’d almost had another anxiety attack.

The bathroom wasn’t small, but it was small enough, and with everything so close to the surface, it had almost been enough to tip me over the edge.

I knew he’d been trying to give me privacy, but I couldn’t take it.

I nearly fell on my face trying to get the clothes on he had given me and all but ran out, not even bothering to look under the sink for a toothbrush or whatever the fuck else.

Dominic was pacing in front of his bed when I crashed into the bedroom. Something was bothering him, but he didn’t say a word when he saw me. Just smiled and quickly passed me and went back into the bathroom.

I tried to stay out and give him space. I really did.

But he left the door partially ajar, and being left alone had me feeling all awkward and jittery.

What was I supposed to do? Go lie down? Stand here like a dumbass?

Being alone really sucked right now. I pushed the door open and joined him in the bathroom.

The man raised an eyebrow at me in question but otherwise didn’t say a word as I hopped on the counter to wait for him.

Dominic had some bougie ass nighttime skin care routine that amazed me.

He didn’t seem to mind that I was sitting there watching him.

He didn’t even get annoyed at the questions I asked about all the different products and what they did.

I swore it was more shit than I’d seen in the Sephora across from one of my jobs.

It was hard to believe that this man had once been a poor foster kid, sharing ice-cold shower water with some other mistreated kid. Though, I guessed I could understand why he took pride in caring for himself now.

While Dominic did his thing, I took in his body.

He was shirtless, and his pants were hung low, so I got to see a whole lot.

He was muscular, but not shredded. He didn’t have a six pack, but his arms, shoulders, and pecs were all defined.

He had a decent amount of dark chest hair, but not enough that I’d consider him a bear.

Like me, his skin wasn’t perfect and covered with scars that showed the hard life he’d lived.

I recognized the small circular burns on his shoulder and across his collarbone and it pissed me the fuck off.

Why the hell were there so many shitty people?

I had a feeling not all his scars were from his childhood, though.

There was one I was like 90% sure was from a bullet and another that looked like he’d been stabbed.

It should scare me. This man had killed people, and probably a lot of them, way more than the two I was aware of.

He’d likely received some of these scars when killing those people.

Yet instead of running away, I was following him around like a puppy and got freaked out when he left me alone in a room.

Scars weren’t the only markings on his skin.

He had tattoos. A lot of them. Some covered the worst of the scars, but not all of them.

A cobra started high on his pec, winding down his shoulder and onto his bicep.

A falcon in flight covered his shoulder blade and went down to the top of his ribs.

His other pec had some words in Latin, or at least it looked like Latin, but I had no idea what it said or meant .

When he was done with the routine, we both brushed our teeth and did all the usual night stuff.

The guy had all kinds of spare shit under his sink I could use, still in the wrappers.

Who had that much extra? Did he have a lot of guests, or was it another case of overcompensation for not having had much when he’d been younger?

The atmosphere changed once we got back into his room.

We were both dawdling, hesitant, unsure what to do.

My eyes kept bouncing back to the huge bed in the middle of the space.

I wanted nothing more than to crawl into it and under the covers, but I was scared.

What if Dominic expected something if I got into bed with him or, worse, didn’t want me there at all.

Finally, Dominic cleared his throat and brought my attention to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit I was already noticing. “I have a spare room I can set up for you, if you want.”

Dread settled like a rock in my belly. The apartment wasn’t that big, but still, the spare bedroom was too far away.

Even if it was directly next door, it would be too far.

My pathetic ass couldn’t even manage him being in the bathroom alone, so how was I supposed to handle being in an entirely separate room?

“Is that what you want? For me to go in there?” I hoped I didn’t sound as hysterical as I felt.

It was completely an irrational response, and I was sure some psychiatrist would have a field day—abused and traumatized man latched onto the first person who showed him kindness—but I didn’t have it in me to give two fucks about it.

“I only want you to be comfortable. I realize that you didn’t want to stay here with me, and I want you to feel safe.”

Safe? I laughed harshly, even though I knew Dominic didn’t mean to be cruel .

“I don’t know what that is,” I admitted, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to keep me from screaming in frustration.

Dominic took a step toward me carefully, like he was afraid he was going to spook me, and didn’t you know, that just pissed me off more.

“I’m not a fucking child!” Fuck, why was I being such an asshole? Dominic had been nothing but caring and sweet and . . . I was fucking crying again.

He met my eyes steadily. If he was bothered by my outburst, he wasn’t showing it.

“Trust me when I tell you I know you’re not, Jamie.”

“Then why are you treating me like one? If you want to touch me, fucking touch me! You think I didn’t notice you were hard before?

” I throw my hands out to my sides, challenging him, because I’d lost my mind apparently.

“Anything you could think of in your most depraved, filthy fantasies wouldn’t come fucking close to what I’ve gone through.

I won’t fucking break. You don’t need to throw me into another room and act like I don’t exist because you don’t wanna scare the poor, traumatized boy.

You say you know I’m not a kid? Then fucking prove it! Take what you want!”

Dominic’s eyes flashed, and before I could take a step back or apologize or fucking run, his hand was around my neck and I was pushed against the massive dresser he had that took up most of one wall.

I let out a harsh breath, my body tensing for one terrifying second as I wondered how badly I’d fucked up, not only worried about my life but about any chance of finding Bailey.

Dominic didn’t squeeze though. His grip wasn’t painful or threatening. It was possessive. Claiming. I’d told him to take what he wanted and he was. I swallowed under his hand, my own pressed against the solid wood of the dresser to get some purchase .

Dominic was right there, his face lowered so he was eye level with me, less than an inch separating us. His teeth grazed along my jawline, causing me to whimper. His nose pressed against my face, breathing in deeply. I couldn’t do anything but accept and hold on for dear life.

“You have no idea the kinds of depraved thoughts I have, baby boy.” Dominic licked across the seam of my lips, and then, when they parted for him, he took the lower one in between his teeth, biting just hard enough for me to feel it before pulling back.

“But I don’t take what’s not willingly given to me.

And that won’t happen until you can look me in the eye and calmly tell me exactly what you want and what you consent to, without the fucking temper tantrum.

Until I can be sure you’ll stop me when you need to, that you even know what your fucking limits are, I won’t do a damn thing. ”