by Jenny Siegal
• • •
Dominic left 10 minutes ago to get a bottle of water but still hasn’t come back and I’m lonely.
“Dominic,” I shout through and wait a few seconds but there is no reply. Odd. Throwing back the covers I grab my panties from the floor and find Dominic’s t-shirt at the bottom of the bed. When I emerge from the bedroom Dominic is sitting hunched over the breakfast bar. With only his boxer briefs on I get an eyeful of his lean muscular back, tattoos that work their way down his bicep. Dark hair all disheveled from my fingers being buried in it.
“I missed you.” I speak up, letting him know he’s not alone. He turns on the stool and flashes me a smile but it isn’t his usual megawatt smile and straightaway I know something’s up.
“What’s wrong?” I cross the room and pull myself up onto the stool opposite. Without saying a word he slide an A4 envelope across the breakfast bar to me. With a quick glance at him, I open it up and slide out the contents. My hands tremble slightly as a photograph lands face up. It’s a football team but then I look closer. Fuck. It’s my old high school football team. The odd thing is that some of their faces are circled with red marker. As I scan the lines of faces my eyes zoom in on one familiar face. The quarterback, Zac Lucas.
I chance a quick look at Dominic and don’t miss the scowl etched on his face, or the tightness around his jaw from clenching it. His green eyes have hardened and he looks like he’s about to explode. I study the players and it doesn’t take me long to work out why some of their faces have been circled. They’re the ones I’ve slept with.
“Is there a note?” I hold my breath and when Dominic gives a sharp shake of his head I breathe out harshly.
“I didn’t sleep with them all,” My quietly spoken words echo in the tense silence. Without realizing it, my fingers begin to drum on the table as Dominic picks the photograph up again to study it. It must be annoying because his hand clamps down on mine and he keeps it there until he sets the photograph down.
When he lifts his head to look at me, green eyes bore into mine but instead of disgust or condemnation all I see is worry and concern.
“Who is doing this?” He grinds out in frustration, his hand clenching tightly around mine.
“I don't know. Dominic.” I whisper and the helplessness on his face tugs at something deep inside. I can’t stand being so far from him so I climb off the stool and walk round to where he is sitting. He turns and I stand in between is legs, my hands resting on his thighs.
“Don't worry babe, they can't touch us,” he promises me, his hands threading through my hair, holding me there as he brushes his lips over mine. “Nothing they say is going to change the way I feel about you.”
I don’t trust myself to speak as fear claws at my chest making hard to breathe. I manage a nod and tilt my head upward, my eyes flutter shut when his warm lips press against mine. His hot insistent tongue invades my mouth, in a kiss that consumes me.
His hands sweep up the outside of my thighs and slip under his t-shirt coming to rest on my waist, his thumbs brush over my skin and I begin to relax. As his lips find mine some of the worry drains away, but when he lifts me up and heads for the bedroom the photograph is the last thing on my mind.
