He smiles, but it’s full of rage and violence. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I’d give you money if you needed it. Instead, you’re doing this? You’re fucking—” He rakes a hand through his dark hair, breaking off as if he can’t even say it.
I tilt my chin up, staring at him in defiance. “Stripping? Yes. Obviously.”
He practically growls, pushing me into the dressing room and slamming the door shut behind him. “Get. Dressed.”
And despite thinking I’m not that girl anymore, the one who always gave into him, I realize I still am. I grab my clothes from a hanger and fumble to put them on, my hands shaking the whole time. I’m intensely aware of his eyes on me as I slip on my jeans and simple white t-shirt. No bra thanks to him yanking me off the stage so quickly.
I slide my feet into my Converse sneakers, and then he’s back at my side, yanking me back out of the dressing room and out the backstage door into an alley.
I don’t say anything as he pulls me along, his fury radiating off him in waves. I want to say something, but I can barely think past the fact that I haven’t seen him in three years. And now he’s right here. So close. The heat from his strong body warming me up in the chill of the late night air.
I stay silent all the way until we reach the stairwell leading to the 6 Train platform. “Where are we going?”
He looks at me for the first time since we left the club. His eyes are clouded, conflicted. Still blazing with anger, but now hot with something else. Something I haven’t seen there but once before. Not since the night he left the home we shared with my mother and his father.
He looks away and pulls me through the turnstile, dragging me onto the train and sitting me in the seat beside him as the doors to the train slide closed.
The train lurches forward, and I ask him again. “Where are we going?”
“Home.”
One word. But it fills me with a sense of ease that I haven’t felt in three years. I know he means his home. The one place where I know I’ll feel safe.
Dominic
The look of relief on Poppy’s face tells me everything I need to know. Not only is she stripping now, but she’s obviously got other shit going on in her life.
Well, now that I’ve found her, I sure as hell won’t let her get away again. I should never have let her in the first place, but it was the only way I knew I could keep her safe. From me.
I watch her, wanting to ask what happened in the last three years to get to this point. But also not wanting to ruin the sudden shift in mood, not wanting to change whatever it is that has her leaning against me as the train flies through the dark tunnels of the city.
Hooking my arm around her neck, I pull her closer, leaning down and pressing a hard kiss to her head’s sweet scent.
She turns to me, tilting her face up, and the swell of her tit brushes my chest. I’m acutely aware of the fact that she has no bra on. And now that the image of her taut nipples is burned into my brain, I’m suddenly not able to think about anything else.
Shit.
This is exactly why I left in the first place. She’s fucking irresistible. I’ve wanted her for years. And I always knew it was wrong. I couldn’t live with her another day without acting on the impulses that drove me mad.
But here I am taking her back to my apartment on the Upper East Side. And she’s no longer that young girl she used to be. She’s all woman, lush curves and carnal need. I see it in her eyes as she stares up at me. There is no mistaking that look.
There is no way this won’t end badly. And I feel powerless to stop it.
But I’m damn well going to try.
“Dom,” she says softly, reaching up to brush my hair off my forehead. “I’ve missed you.”
A stab to my heart. So fucking sweet. This girl is going to be my demise.
Her fingers trail down my face, tracing over my jaw, her eyes hungry as she takes me in. It would be so easy to forget for just a moment why this is wrong. Why it can’t work. To dip my head down and taste those full, pouty lips. To slip my hand under her shirt and tease those nipples that are hard pebbles beneath the thin white fabric.
“I missed you too, baby,” I grit out, unable to take my eyes from her face. I swallow as she turns more to face me, so close, her mouth mere inches from mine.
Poppy takes my face in her hands and reaches up, dropping a feather-light kiss on my cheek. I feel my jaw tick with the insane amount of restraint it takes to remain still as she watches me with those big baby blues.
Her hands drop to my chest, her fingers gripping my shirt as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear again. What she doesn’t realize is that I suddenly feel powerless against her. That after a lifetime of fighting it, seeing her tonight, having her here next to me, I don’t know if I’m able to fight the need that draws me to her. I always held onto control by a thin thread, and it feels like it’s about to snap with her soft, warm hands on my body.
If not for the fact we’re on a public train, I don’t know that I could keep it together, keep from devouring her. And I’m stupid enough to be taking her back to my apartment.