Dominic

The hard way it is!

Mina

A shroud of warmth encased my body, and a warm, rhythmic wind caressed the back of my neck and the side of my face. For a moment, my mind raced, trying to put the pieces of the room together.

Where the fuck am I? And whose fucking arm is this?

My heart pounded, and my breaths came in short, sporadic bursts.

"You okay, Mina?" asked a familiar male voice from behind me.

Memories crashed in my mind, making my temples throb. Cottonmouth, I swallowed, but a bitter taste stayed on my tongue.

"Dom?" I recalled drinking the champagne, but I didn't remember finishing the second glass.

"Yeah." He drew in a deep breath, then stifled a yawn. "You okay?" he asked me the question a second time.

Fuck. Was I? Hell, if I knew.

"How'd I get here? In bed?"

"I carried you, remember? We've already had this talk."

A quick check confirmed I still had on his shirt and my panties. Plus, he had on pants. His chest was bare and glorious, but he still had on his slacks.

"Uhm, we didn't, you know, uhm, have—"

"Sex?"

I nodded, unable to finish the sentence.

"Nope." He propped his head up on an arm and looked me in the eye. "I already told you, I like my women alert and highly receptive to commands, as well as responsive to my touch, which I can tell you, you weren't any of those three last night after drinking the champagne."

"Well, in my defense, I told you I didn't really drink."

"Yeah, I can tell. You passed out with just two glasses. We'll have to keep an eye on that." He winked.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm done drinking." I stretched, and a tinge of pain at the back of my neck made me wince.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I rubbed my shoulder, slid my fingers to the base of my skull, then flinched.

"Doesn't seem like nothing." He paused a moment. "Turn around. Let me see."

"No. It's nothing. Probably just a crick in my neck."

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Fine." Grabbing my hair, I pulled it away from the back of my neck. "Do you see anything?"

"Does it hurt here?" Gently, he skimmed a finger over the nape of my neck.

"Yeah. It's sore."

"You have a bruise forming." He pulled the collar of the shirt back. "What about here?" His fingers slid to the sides of my neck.

"A little sore, but nothing like at the back." Scooting forward, I tossed the covers back.

"Where are you going?" One hand encased my wrist, and his free arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me back into an embrace.

"To the bathroom." I giggled. "Nature calls."

Dominic rose from the bed, looking sexier than any man should in slept-in-slacks and bed-hair. He moved the table and vase in front of the bathroom, opened the door, stepped inside, flipped on the light, then inspected the area.

"Leave the door—"

He turned around and ran into me.

"Cracked." I two-palmed his bare chest, and his arms wrapped around me. "Yeah, I know the drill. But just so you know, I have a shy bladder."