Page 48 of The Butcher's Wife

“He could if he had to, but he trusts you, too. Do you remember who broke Tommy Halle’s arm when I was a freshman?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I spread one hand over his forearm, greedily soaking up the sensation of his firm muscles beneath my fingers. He’s covered in his own blood, but for a fighter like him, it suits him.

“He was a senior,” I say. “He kept making jokes about a threesome with Serafina and me, and he followed us home one day, harassing us the entire time. The next day, he came to school with a broken arm and wouldn’t look either of us in the eye.”

Dom’s mouth presses into a firm line. “Your dad asked me…”

“When I turned eighteen and Cousin Red was making jokes about me being legal? What did you do?”

Pine and smoke surround me, mouthwateringly tempting.

“I don’t remember.”

“You took him to the back of the house, emptied a bottle of whiskey on him, and told him if he cracked another joke,you’d light him on fire.” I rise, just an inch, onto my toes. “I saw you do it. Can you blame me if all I see when I look at you is a good man?”

Dom releases a short exhale, his pupils swallowing all the light. “Those aren’t things good men do.”

Heat blooms in my body. I can barely feel the cold in this moment. “To me, they are.”

And I can see it on his face. I thought he’d forgotten the night of my eighteenth birthday that I’ve carried with me all these years like a little secret jewel of happiness. He remembers, too—he must.

“Dom, please.”

Last time, he looked kind and a little patronizing. This time, he’s watchful. But he plays along anyway. “Please what,reginetta?”

“Please kiss me.”

I rise on my toes, nearlyen pointe, to close the space between our faces, planting my hands on his sturdy chest, which rises and falls with more speed than I would’ve expected. I affect him more than I thought.

He reluctantly drops his head down, his heat enveloping me.

“Fuck,” Dom whispers.

He drops his mouth to mine.

At first, it’s a hard press of his mouth to mine and the feel of his lips against me. I wrap my arms around the back of his thick neck and thread my fingers into his hair, pulling us together at the same time that I lick along the seam of his mouth like I did at that church.

Let me in.

This time, instead of pulling away, he falls forward over me with a deep moan, like a skyscraper toppling. His widehands splay over most of my back, and his mouth finally opens. Excitement fizzles through my chest.

I suck at his tongue, tasting mint again, and when I nibble at his bottom lip, he chuckles against my mouth. Maybe I would feel self-conscious about it with someone else, but with Dom, it’s a compliment. He may be a big, scary guy, but he likes to laugh, and he loves toplay—and I realize, I do too. I want to be with someone fun and relaxed. He’s not just a faceless protector for me, even if that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I don’t want him for what he can do for me—I wanthim.I want to be around someone whose smiles are like sunshine and whose laugh you can hear through the entire house. I want to be around someone who chases the nightmares away.

His arm bands around my back, lifting me into the air. I’m weightless and breathless. I wrap my legs around him, and he shifts so he’s supporting my weight with one strong hand under my ass.

Warmth floods my panties. It’s been too long since I’ve felt anything like this. I luxuriate in the taste and feel of his breath, his heady scent, his tongue playfully rubbing against mine.

I draw back, my mouth raw from our efforts, and lock eyes with him. My heart slams against my chest. More than anything, I want him to believe in us like I’m starting to.

I take his broad face in my hands and slowly kiss his cheek, his temple, his eye, the places he was cut defending me, until I return to his lips and lean back to look into his eyes.

The wicked smile he usually wears has been wiped away, leaving behind a wary expression. If I kiss that look off his face next, what’ll be left?

I thread my fingers into his hair, pulling the base of hisponytail down, and he willingly exposes his neck to me.Mine.He’s all mine. I squeeze my thighs around his waist and tug down his shirt collar to kiss and suck on the spot where I bit him, mostly healed over, but still lightly bruised.

His low voice rumbles against my mouth. “You gonna bite me again?”