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He’s in a poisonous mood. “I thought she was your friend with benefits, not his.”
“She fucks whoever we tell her to fuck.” He practically snarls the words at me.
Does she? Is that true? My stomach is acidic with the realization of just who these men I’ve been messing around with are.
Dom takes four quick steps, and his arms are around me before I can react, trapping me.
“Hhhmm, you smell good,” he slurs into my neck.
I push him off. “You’re drunk.”
“Not drunk enough,” he snaps. “Not for this fucking hellhole.”
“Oh, you mean the mafia university.”
He stares at me, pulling away so he can study my face. “You finally caught on, huh? Why is your mother marrying my father?” he demands.
“Fucked if I know. I wish she wasn’t.” I can’t give him my secrets. He’s as trustworthy as a snake.
“Same.” He lets out a soft, bitter laugh.
“You think I want to be here?” I throw back at him. “I hate it here. It’s an amoral pit of venom.”
“Wow, Duchess, don’t hold back.”
“No one is happy here, either.” I shake my head. “Everyone here is fucked up, or miserable, or vicious. It’s so toxic. I wish we could just leave. It’s not as though I want Mom marrying your dad either.”
“My enemy’s enemy,” he says softly. Then he snaps his face back up to look at me. “Nah. I dislike you too much to make you my friend. Even if our goals were to align.”
“How would they align?”
“Stopping the wedding?”
I suck in a breath. This is all I want, isn’t it? To stop my mother marrying Dom’s vile father. If I do, though, I could be plunging us into an even more dangerous situation. It’s not only about the police and what I did anymore. There are men out there after us. Men who might kill us. I can’t do that. No matter how much I might want to leave here, if Mom says it’s dangerous, I must try to ensure she can keep us safe.
“I don’t want to stop their marriage.” The lie is brazen.
His gaze hardens. “Of course, you don’t. You and your mother think you can lord it over everyone here once she’s married to my father. That’s not how it works. The women are not in charge here. Ever.”
“Oh, I know. I got the memo.” I’m breathing hard now, but something incredible has happened.
Whatever it is that Dom does to me, it’s chased away the despair and melancholy and replaced it with something that burns much brighter. Hate? Lust? Both? Either way, I’ll take it over the other seething emotions. At least right now, I feel alive.
“You’re looking at me like you want to hit me. You know I like that.”
“Maybe I want to do more than just hit you.”
No one is more shocked than I am when I press myself to him and kiss him, hard. He groans into my mouth, and on instinct, I bite his bottom lip.
He pulls back. Red blooms on his skin. He licks his lip and looks at me, something akin to awe in his gaze.
“Fuck, yes, Duchess. Now you’re talking.”
He grabs my hair and pulls it in his fist, making my scalp burn and my blood sing. He kisses me then, taking control, teeth clashing, tongues dueling. It’s intense, and more than a little bit scary, but it’s a heady fear, like being on a too-fast rollercoaster.
Out of control. This is out of control. I’m out of control. I need to stop.
The trouble is, I don’t want to.
