Page 61 of Monster

I fucking hated my reaction to his kiss.

I should not have reacted at all, unless that reaction was disgust, but that was far from the truth and Dominic knew it, and I knew it as well.

I hadn’t wanted him to stop kissing me.

To stop touching me.

And the worst part was, I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day.

How far would we have gone if I hadn’t pushed him away?

I didn’t think I was ready for anything with him.

The last relationship I had been in was when I was eighteen, and saying it had ended in disaster was an understatement of the century.

I looked down at my scarred hands.

I didn’t think Dominic knew, or if he did, he hadn’t said anything about it. The surgeon who had taken care of me at the hospital had done a good job of reducing the number of visible scars. I could still feel the indents caused by what scars were left, though. If Dominic looked closely enough, he would see just how disfigured my hands were.

It wouldn’t have mattered to me if they were the ugliest hands in the world. I would have taken ugly hands if it meant I could have the ability to play the piano again.

I would have given up almost anything.

But that was the least of my problems right now.

I was still trapped here, and I had kissed Dominic Madden, a man so wrong for me in every way, it wasn’t even funny.

Yet my lips tingled in remembrance of the kiss, and my clit throbbed as I thought back to him pushing his erection against me.

I had been battling with two different emotions all day.

Pleasure and anger.

Right now, anger was winning, but not by much, and I wantedoutof this house.

I paced the small hallway that separated the kitchen and the living room. I had a full view of the front door, but it wouldn’t have mattered. If his schedule from last night were anything to go by, Dominic wouldn’t be home until late.

Still, I had the kitchen knife I had been able to sneak in with me last night tucked into my pants.

I pulled it out, my hand touching the metal blade, warm with my body heat.

I swallowed.

Could I use this on another person, even if it was to ensure I could get away from my prison?

The only time I had ever touched a knife was when I was cooking, and that was rare.

I didn’t know how to cook, and what was more, I hated it.

I hated the feeling of slicing into raw meat, and now I was willing to use this on another human being?

My hands shook, and I realized too late that I should have been more aware of my surroundings when a thick voice called by the front door.

“What are you doing, wildcat?”

My breath caught. Dominic was standing there, his face partially hidden in shadow.

My heart felt like it was going to fall out of my throat, and I didn’t know how to answer him.

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