“Not. Fucking. Now.” Dominic shrugged past him and carried her to the building. He didn’t put her down until they were in the bathroom of her apartment, where they stripped off their clothes.
Standing under the hot spray, they soaped each other down. Her touch was gentle and soothing as it washed the blood from his skin, but he was soon rock fucking hard. With the adrenaline still in his system and his fear for her safety still fresh, he soon had her pinned against the tiled wall as he powered in and out of her.
No sooner had they dried off, her parents appeared. Valentina fussed over them and put away groceries while James fielded calls from anxious pride members, assuring them that Mila was fine and just needed some rest and privacy. After talking Mila into canceling her upcoming performance at the Velvet Lounge that night, Dominic called Trey, gave him a rundown of what had happened, and promised to keep him updated.
Vinnie, Tate, and Luke later made a brief appearance, checking on Mila and relaying that the cheetah was now very much dead and hadn’t known anything more about the bounty than the jackal or snake shifter had. No surprise, really.
Valentina cooked Dominic and Mila a meal and then, wanting to give them time alone, went home with James. And now, as they ate at Mila’s small dining table, Dominic couldn’t help replaying the earlier incident over and over in his mind. He kept remembering the incapacitating fear he’d felt when Mila had become deadweight in his arms, kept remembering how her lips had turned blue and how her heartbeat had slowed and faltered.
He hadn’t felt that kind of fear in . . . well, ever. It was the fear of losing something essential to you. Something you knew you wouldn’t be happy without.
And that fucking terrified him.
He’d known he cared for her, known she was important to him. But he hadn’t realized that he’d come to need her. Hadn’t thought she’d dug her way that deep inside him. Oh, he’d figured she might burrow her way there someday, but not so damn soon.
Dominic had avoided putting too much thought into what might lie ahead for them, but he had believed everything would move at his pace. He figured that if she did get past his defenses, he’d be in control of when it happened. He thought she’d only get there if he consciously opened the door wide enough.
He was wrong.
She’d somehow made herself indelible. Wasn’t quite inside his protective walls, but she had wedged her way through a crack she’d made in them. And now he felt . . . threatened. Which was stupid. But not one single soul had ever made themselves essential to him. Not one. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Every self-protective instinct he had was telling him to leave.
Maybe one night apart wouldn’t hurt. They were constantly in each other’s space, and that wasn’t always healthy, was it? It would probably do them both some good for him to—
“You’re quiet.”
The flatly spoken observation cut into his thoughts, snapping him to the present. She was staring at him, her gaze far too perceptive, too knowing.
Feeling uncomfortable and exposed, Dominic picked up his glass. “It’s not good to talk when I have food in my mouth.”
“You want to leave, don’t you?” The accusation was soft. Empty of resentment or judgment.
Shit. He sipped the wine that Valentina had poured. “Why would you ask that?”
“It wasn’t really a question. Your muscles are bunched tight. Like someone coiled to spring . . . or to jump up and run.”
He arched a brow at the taunt. “I don’t have reasons to be tense, considering the day we’ve had?”
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. “I know you. And I know that right now, the thing you want most is to get the fuck out of here. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Baby, there’s just a lot of stupid shit going through my head. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to.”
Mila marveled over how someone could be only a few feet away from her yet seem so damn unreachable. Honestly, she might as well have been speaking to him through plate glass. He hadn’t just withdrawn, he’d withdrawn from her. Had become distant and remote. And his “I don’t want to talk about it” was said with such