Page 81 of The Blame Game

“We should sleep. You have work tomorrow,” Dom whispered.

“Just a little longer,” Shea pleaded. He tangled his hand in Dom’s hair and brushed their lips together, shameless but uncaring.

Dom laughed softly but he kissed Shea again, tracing his thumb across the shell of his ear and making him shiver.

Shea bit at Dom’s lip and tugged his hair, loving the way he moaned and gripped Shea’s back tighter.

But eventually, even Shea’s desperation slowly faded until their foreheads were pressed together and the kisses were soft, barely there brushes of lips, and they were sharing the same air.

“Sleep,” Dom whispered, running his hand down Shea’s back. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Shea smiled, probably too big and honest of a smile, but he couldn’t help himself.

But rather than gather Shea into his arms and pull him close like Shea had expected, Dom flipped onto his other side. He grabbed a pillow, wedging it between his knees and got comfortable.

“Why are you so far away?” he grumbled, reaching behind him.

Shea smiled helplessly, sliding forward, letting his chest settle against Dom’s back.

“Yeah, that’s better.”

Shea rested his forehead against the back of Dom’s neck, breathing him in.

He should have told Dom. He should have.

But if he had, he might not have had this moment. He might never have had it.

And although he should be sorry, he wasn’t.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dom awoke in Shea’s bed.

He’d rolled away, half on his stomach, one arm hanging off the bed. He was sleeping deeply, shoulders rising and falling in slow steady breaths. Dom wanted to reach out and trace his fingers across Shea’s skin but he clenched the sheet tightly in his fist, not wanting to disturb him.

Memories of the night before trickled back in and Dom swallowed hard, remembering the feel of Shea’s release on his skin, the soft, gentle pressure of his lips.

Dom had almost forgotten how good it was to kiss someone. He’d forgotten the slow, languid glide of a tongue against his own, the warm puff of air against his lips.

The intimacy of it.

Unease skittered across his body—this moment overlaid with a moment that felt like a lifetime ago.

Falling asleep in Christian’s bed for the first time, letting himself be lulled into a false sense of security.

Trusting Christian, only to be betrayed when he threatened to out Dom. Christian backing down because Dom’s agent had paid him off and not because he’d loved Dom enough to protect him.

Dom closed his eyes and breathed for a moment, the urge to run so strong he could feel it in his jaw and his shoulders, his legs. The coiled tension screaming at him to leave before he made that mistake again.

He reached for the covers, intending to fling them back and get out of bed to dress and leave, but Shea sighed, rolling over, murmuring something that sounded like Dom’s name.

Dom froze, grip tightening on the smooth cotton fabric.

It was long enough to Shea to blink, lashes thick and long, his eyes so blue … He smiled at Dom, expression unguarded, happy to see him.

Dom’s chest felt tight and he licked his lips, wondering what to say.

Voice raspy and sleep-roughened, but still smiling, Shea said, “Everything okay?”

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