“Internal bleeding. I know.” I try to get to my feet, but the room spins around me and I’m back down in two seconds flat. “Fuck. I need a shower. And sleep.”
Trevor helps me up, but before I can tell him there’s no way I’m lettinghimin the shower with me, he passes me off to Domina. “You got this?” he asks. “Austin and I need to call Zephyr, then it’s his turn to catch a few hours.”
“Yes. I can do this. You will wake us if you hear anything…important?” She braces one hand against my chest, and I cover her fingers with mine.
“Anything time sensitive. I promise.”
I meet Trev’s gaze, and the look that passes between us? He understands what I need most right now is the woman at my side. Though we’re going to have a long talk later about why either one of them left the safety of the United States to come rescue me.
Each step toward the bedroom is easier than the last. Especially with Domina’s arm around my waist. She leads me into the bathroom, lets me lean against the counter, and starts the shower. But when she undresses me without saying a single word, then peels off her black yoga pants, the worry I’ve carried since the moment I saw the sniper spills over.
“Baby, talk to me.” I gather her in my arms, relishing the way her breasts pillow against my chest. Her tank top falls from her hand, but she’s still wearing her bra and panties. “I’m okay. I promise.”
“How can you say that?” Tears spill down her cheeks, and she shatters, sobs wracking her body. “We couldn’t find you. Not even Zephyr…no one knew…President Garcia…he refused to talk to Austin…Cortez will not return my calls…no one—”
“Domina. Stop.” I press my lips to hers. She tastes of salt, her tears stinging so many cuts from repeated punches to the face. But I don’t care how much it hurts. She’s kissing me back.
Until her tongue tangles with mine, and her teeth scrape against my split lip. I jerk away, hissing in pain.
“Leo?” Domina cups the back of my neck. Her eyes narrow, and it’s like she’s seeing me for the first time. “Dios mio. You need to rest.”
“I need you.” But when I try to unhook her bra, I lose my balance. Only her arm around my waist keeps me from falling over.
“We can do both.” Domina slides the bra straps down her arms, giving me a delicious view of her breasts. Despite my exhaustion, I’m hard for her before she takes off her panties.
If I had the strength—or the energy—I’d have her right here on the counter. And in the shower. And on the counter again. Instead, I let her wash my hair.
I can’t hold a thought in my head. Not with Domina touching me. It was less than twenty-four hours, but it feels like I haven’t seen her in a year.
“Hold on to me,” she says, stepping closer so she can run a washcloth down my back. “You are about to fall over.”
“Haven’t slept.” My words feel thick, unwieldy, and I rest my cheek on her shoulder. “They wouldn’t…let me.” She tries to draw back, but I hold on. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m alive.”
* * *
Domina
Voices from the next room wake me. Austin and Trevor. They don’t sound angry or upset, thank God. I’m not sure if I should be happy they let us rest or relieved.
Leo sleeps soundly at my back, an arm curled around my waist, and his soft breaths tickling my cheek.
Outside his bedroom window, the day gives way to night. I stare down at his hand splayed over my hip. A bright red welt mars his wrist, and I skim my finger above the swelling. Suddenly, all I can see is him, handcuffed to that small table, his face twisted in pain.
I start to shake. If we had been an hour later, if Austin had not been able to sway President Garcia…
“Domina?” Leo’s deep voice rumbles in my ear. “Breathe, baby. Everything’s okay.”
If only a few deep breaths would fix all our problems. I do try, but the panic chaining my heart only intensifies. “Rafael fired me, Leo. Cortez won’t take my calls. I cannot even talk to Larissa. The police…they put me in handcuffs outside the stadium and the entire country thinks I had something to do with the assassination attempt.Nothingis okay.”
He pushes up on an elbow with a groan. “That pissantfired you?”
Rolling over, I stare up at him. His color is better, but his face is a mess of bruises and cuts. His lids are puffy, and his right eye only opens halfway. “It isn’t important.”
“The hell it’s not. You were attacked. Probably by the same people who tried to kill Cortez. You didnothingwrong. But they punished you because you were with me.” He skims a knuckle along my jaw. It’s rough, which makes the contact even more intense and arousing, despite how scared I am. “When I see that asshole, I’m going to punch him into next week. The election be damned.”
I take his hand, brushing a kiss to his knuckles. “You should not be punching anyone. Not until you heal. I will find another job. Somewhere.”
His low growl makes me feel protected. Cared for. Cherished. All the things I never knew I wanted or needed. Gently, I kiss him, careful of his split lip.
