Page 132 of Hard Bargain

“I wanted to ask you something.”

Dominic leaned back against the bench, arms folded. “Go on.”

“I was thinking about inviting a few friends over,” he said. “To the apartment. Nothing big. Just pizza and games. I wanted to make sure that was okay.”

Dominic studied him. “Do you trust them?”

Knox nodded immediately. “Yeah. I’ve known them my whole life.”

“You won’t tell them anything about what you’re involved in?” Dominic asked.

Knox’s expression turned more serious. “No. I wouldn’t do that. I promise.”

Dominic held his gaze a second longer, then gave a small nod. “Fine. Have them over. They’re welcome here.”

Knox thanked him but didn’t leave. He lingered just inside the room like he’d forgotten how legs worked. His gaze lowered again, tracking the slow path of sweat down Dominic’s chest, following it over his stomach, and Knox’s lips parted.

“Something else?” Dominic asked.

Knox’s eyes flicked up. But they didn’t stay up. “No. Just—”

He didn’t finish.

Dominic watched every shift: the way Knox’s breathing had gone slightly off rhythm, the restless flex of his fingers at his sides, the movement of his throat when he swallowed. “Look at me,” Dominic said.

Knox’s eyes lifted, and everything he was feeling was right there—hunger, need, something bright and desperate burning behind those beautiful blue eyes.

Dominic pushed off the bench slowly and closed the space between them in a few strides.

Knox didn’t retreat. He just stood there, shoulders squared, jaw set in that stubborn way, but the hunger didn’t leave his expression. If anything it got worse the closer Dominic got.

Dominic stopped just short of him. Close enough to hear the small, involuntary hitch in Knox’s breathing. “What do you want?” he asked, voice like gravel.

Knox didn’t answer.

He moved instead.

His mouth found Dominic’s throat and his tongue dragged a slow line through the salt at his collarbone. The sound that came out of Knox—low, needy, almost a groan—sent something white-hot straight down Dominic’s spine.

God.

Knox’s tongue traced another line. Chasing the salt on Dominic’s skin like he’d been thinking about it for hours. That was the part that got him. Not just the contact, but the complete, unapologetic lack of restraint. The way Knox didn’t even pretend this was anything other than pure, animal want.

Dominic’s breath stuttered.

Fuuck.

Teeth grazed his neck. Then bit—not gentle. Dominic’s hand shot into Knox’s hair, anchoring him there, guiding the pressure. Knox’s hands were on him now, mapping the planes of his chest, fingers skimming slick muscle, nails dragging hard enough to leave red lines.

Dominic forced Knox’s head back and crushed their mouths together.

Christ. Nothing should feel this good.

Knox met every stroke of his tongue with equal ferocity, a moan spilling into his mouth that he swallowed whole.

He drove Knox back against the padded wall, his thigh wedging between Knox’s legs and holding him there. Knox’s hips ground forward immediately. Shameless. The pressure tore a moan out of him so raw Dominic felt it in his chest.

His hand slid beneath Knox’s shirt, fingers grazing hard lines of muscle, mapping every inch. Knox arched into the touch with a shudder, a choked “ah—” breaking from his lips when Dominic’s thumb found his nipple.