Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,68

he growls, backing us both against the wall. “Eight hours, rook. What happened in eight hours to change things? I know I walked out on you the other night, but I have my reasons, all of which I planned to tell you before you decided to hop on pretty boy’s dick.”

A surge of anger rushes through me, and I struggle against him, but it’s useless. His hold is too strong. “I haven’t hopped on his dick, thank you.”

“Good.” His voice is low and rough, like the rumble of a summer storm. “Because the thought of it makes me crazy. It makes me want to go out there and break every bone in that fucker’s face.”

“Dominic…”

“You’re mine, Angel,” he heaves, grinding his hips against mine. “Angel Smith. Not Alexandra Romanov. My Angel. Every damn inch of you.”

It’s wrong. So, so wrong, but I can’t help it. I want him, and he knows it. Before I can stop myself, I wrap my arms around him, and he claims my mouth in a violent, hungry kiss. Dominic’s possession has always been rough, but there’s something in his touch tonight that’s different. Frantic. Almost as if there’s a ticking clock for both of us.

Bright light spills into the closet as the door cracks open. “Alexandra? Is everything okay in here?”

Noah. Shit!

I try to pull away, but Dominic tightens his hold, only breaking the kiss long enough to turn his head. “Walk away, Braddock.”

The door opens wider, and Noah’s blond head pops into view. “Alexandra?”

“Hey,” Dominic growls. “I’m talking to you. Don’t look at her.”

Noah grins. “You must be Dominic.”

Finally, blood rushes back up to my brain, and I regain common sense enough to bend down and slip under Dominic’s arm. Before he can argue, I spread my arms between them like an alpha male crossing guard. “Enough!” Turning toward Noah, I add, “Thank you, but I’m fine. Yes, this is Dominic, he’s, well, he’s…”

“Your Brent,” he says with a smile.

“Who the hell is Brent?” Dominic roars, barreling into my palm. “Rook, so help me God…”

Noah just grins. “Listen, I know a back way out of here. Why don’t you two enjoy dinner on Silverline’s tab, and I’ll catch a cab.”

My jaw drops. “Are you sure? People will see us.”

“I think we’ve done enough dancing, Pinocchio.” He gives me a pointed wink. “Time to cut the strings.” Slipping through the crack in the door, he disappears back down the hallway.

Dominic crowds in from behind. “What the hell was that?”

I can’t help but smile. “That was the first drop of many salty tears.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Angel

“So, let’s hear it, Alexandra,” Dominic says, placing both palms on the table.

“Hear what?”

“The story with pretty boy back there.” His hand tightens around the now empty glass. “Must have been hard slumming with me for so long. At least you traded up.”

I have on four-inch heels. If I extend my leg, I can bury one in his dick. “This bad boy routine is getting old. If you have something to say, then say it.”

His smirk fades. “Damn it, Ang—Alexandra… fuck. We’re not doing this again.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

I sigh and close my eyes. “Noah is just a friend.” Opening them slowly, I expect to see retaliation but surprisingly meet with a serious stare. “Besides, I’m not exactly his type.”

Screw it. He’s coming out anyway.

Dominic is silent for a moment, then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. “He’s gay.”

I don’t have to confirm it; my shocked expression does it for me.

But I also know what he does for a living. How he has built an empire on uncovering secrets and destroying reputations. And because I know the reach he still has, I lean forward. “So help me, McCallum, if you breathe a word of this before he does, I’ll expose our little arrangement and drag you down with me.”

“You’d sacrifice yourself to hurt me? For him?”

“If you forced me to, yes.”

The scowl on Dominic’s face turns from irritated to deadly, and my pulse races. What the hell is wrong with me? As pissed as I am at him, I still have the insatiable urge to bury my face in his neck and lose myself in his arms.

“So, Rosten’s got you doing softcore porn with a co-star who bats for the other team?”

Until he opens his mouth.

Reaching behind me, I grab my purse and push my chair back. “At least Noah knows how to treat a woman. I’m a twenty-three-year old heiress of the wealthiest family in Hollywood. I