Page 54 of The Butcher's Wife

In the darkness, I can just make out that she’s wearing an old, black T-shirt of mine.

Neither of us says a word as she takes one step, then another, and another until she’s on the other side of my bed. She burrows under the covers and huddles along one side of the mattress.

I don’t think, and I sure as hell don’t say a damn thing as I roll closer and wrap an arm around her shoulders. She flips toward me, buries her head against my chest, and we fall asleep, holding each other as the day breaks.

13

ANNETTA

I would have thoughtit was a dream, except that I only have nightmares these days, and I woke up in the wrong room.

I reach in the darkness for Dom’s cold pillow and drag it to me to inhale his rich, masculine scent like it’s a bump of coke to start off my day. It sweeps through my bloodstream how I imagine a drug would—pricking my nipples into attention, flooding my clit with an achy pressure that doesn’t go away even when I grind against my palm. My hips jerk forward of their own accord when I remember his lips against mine.

The rest of the night catches up to me, and I still, the lust bleeding away. Last night was messed up. Seeing Dad there in his undershirt while he held another man’s face still for a set of pliers has my stomach twisting in knots. I’ve always known what Dad did or, at least, suspected it, but it was another thing entirely to witness his cold obedience to his don.

I hug the pillow to me and stare up at the ceiling.

Dom protected me last night, even though I’d been lyingto him about who I was and what I’d done. Maybe obligation forced him to save me from Mikey, but what other explanation could there be to shield me from the vision of Don Salvatore and his pliers? He stood in front of me the entire time, between me and his don.

All of that pales in comparison to the fact that he wrapped his arms around me last night after I crawled into his bed. After everything that happened, he offered me simple comfort, without any strings attached. Affection swells in my chest.

I want him so badly it hurts.

And after that kiss last night, I think he might want me too.

I roll onto my belly to rub my face into his pillow and blame the sharp aphrodisiac of his scent when I thrust my pillow between my thighs. My libido feels like it’s waking from an ancient slumber as I settle into my favorite position. I could use a release right now, but more than anything, I want to be close to Dom, even if I have to imagine it.

I sandwich my hand between myself and the pillow and rub against my palm, imagining it’s Dom’s hand. A moan bursts out of my mouth.

I’venevermade any sort of noise while I masturbated. I’ve always had to do it stealthily, biting down on a pillow and straining my ears for someone else in the house.

Why can’t I be loud this one time? I bet Dom is loud. I bet he roars as he comes. I bet he makes a huge mess, coating his entire hand with his salty cum.

“Dom,” I moan. The pressure builds inside me, and I get even more excited. “Dom!”

The door slams open.

I scream, jerking Dom’s T-shirt over my lower half and flipping onto my back.

Dom storms in, looking like he tumbled out of my fantasies in his boots and thick coat, with his hair pulled back from his face. He looksfurious.

He slams the door shut—and locks it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks in a low, demanding voice.

I could not have been caught more red-handed than if I’d had a sign that said “DIRTY PERVERT” in neon letters over my head.

His gaze touches my face, skates down to my hard nipples, and lingers for a half beat longer at the pillow between my legs, before he grits his teeth and focuses on my face.

“Dom…”

“Why the fuck were you calling for me?”

“Because—you know why.” I sound like a huge idiot right now, but I was masturbating in the privacy of my own home, and he can’t burst in here to yell at me about it.

He takes two long steps closer, and the room constricts around him.

I inhale sharply. He’s not coming to help, is he? I sit up, pushing my hips against the pillow a little further.