I’ve spent so much of my life ignoring my sexuality that I almost forgot I was a sexual being at all. But now it’s like the sex kitten that was asleep inside me has finally woken from her slumber.
And man, she wants Dominic. A lot.All the time.I honestly don’t know if she’ll ever be sated when it comes to him.
I don’t know that any other man could’ve made me feel safe and protected enough to show this side of myself, but Dom has revved my engine up to full throttle.
“So ... just so we’re clear ... I’m your muse?” Dom asks and I snort.
“Don’t let it go to your head, cowboy.”
He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Too late.”
But he also just pulls me closer to his body, enveloping me in his warmth, and it’s downright mind-blowing how easy it is to be with him.
With Dom, there’s no pretense, no pressure to be anything other than exactly who I am. He makes me feel safe and cherished and desired in a way I never thought possible.
As I drift off to sleep in his arms, I know without a doubt that this could be the beginning of something incredible.
35
Dominic
Friday, May 24
5:30 p.m.
“Forty-two-year-old woman. Twelve stab wounds to the back, chest, abdomen, and neck,” Booth says, and I scan the deceased victim as a heavy dose of sadness hits me. I love my job, but I never stop hating the injustices I have to witness on a daily basis.
The victim is a woman named Marie Caulder. She’s married, no kids, and works from home for a local insurance agency. Her neighborhood postman called into 911 after he tried to drop off a package that required her signature but she didn’t answer the bell. He said when he peeked inside the sidelights of the front door, it looked like someone had robbed her home.
I scan the bedroom, noting the current disarray. A lamp lies broken on the floor beside the nightstand. The comforter and sheets have been torn off the mattress. And several framed photos have fallen from the walls.
Not to mention, the entryway, living room, and kitchen looked much the same on my way in here.
“There was definitely a struggle,” I comment and Booth nods. “You think we’ll find any of the suspect’s DNA on our victim?”
“I’m hopeful,” he answers. “I can already tell there’s trauma to her hands and fingernails that indicates she put up a fight.”
“Hey, Dunn,” Officer Kutch says, peeking his head into the bedroom. “CSI has located several blood splatters near the back door. And two footprints at the bottom of the deck stairs.”
“Has Wilkins made contact with the husband?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “But he’s heading over to the victim’s sister’s house now.”
“Okay,” I answer and pull out my pad to jot down a few notes. Before I leave the bedroom, I tell Booth to give me a call when he has the final results of his examination.
I carefully pass by a few members of our CSI team as they take photographs and swabs from various parts of the house, and I slide underneath the yellow tape that’s now blocking entry to the front door. But when I reach the porch, I spot a familiar face walking up the front concrete path.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and Shane just offers a little smirk.
“Figured you might need a little help on this one,” he answers. “I know it’s hard for you to take on a case without me.”
I scoff, but I also laugh. “Pretty sure you have enough work to do on the CMA case.”
“Relax, Dom,” Shane retorts as he walks up the steps to meet me at the top. “Hannah’s shift is over, and I had a little free time on my hands.”
“Free time?” I question and furrow my brow at him. “I’m just curious how you can have free time when I know for a fact you have a shitload of possible suspects to track down ...”
“Even though I don’t owe you any explanations, I’ll take the fucking bait,” he comments on a snort. “Matthews and Lakin are currently working on bringing two of my possible suspects down to the station to interview. It’s my next stop.”
