Gun to My Head by Dira Lewis

Author:Dira Lewis [Lewis, Dira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Bisexual, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Romance
Publisher: Less Than Three Press
Published: 2016-07-17T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

By the time I'd worked out the essential logistics and gathered all the supplies I could dig up from around the house, we had only a few hours left before dawn. I hadn't noticed anyone watching when I went back and forth to the garage; no one had interrupted me, and Dominic's neighbors were all sleeping, just like Dominic himself.

I knelt beside the couch and leaned over him, pressing my lips softly to the dip between his collarbones. I licked the spot and could almost taste the steady beat of his pulse. Certainly I could taste him, deep in sleep. He tasted faintly bruised, like ripe fruit handled too roughly; he still wasn't entirely recovered from my earlier experiment. I made my slow way up his throat, licking and kissing. I got to the point of his jaw, and my teeth ached with the nearness of the classic biting place, the blood rushing by untouched. I kept hold of myself and murmured his name.

He stirred a little, tilting his head toward me, and I moved on, kissing down his jaw to his mouth, and tried his name again, making up variations between kisses. "Dominic. Halyard. Dom. Dominus meus."

The last one burned my tongue; classical vowels and sacrilege would only protect me so far. Dominic started to stir before I came up with something even more embarrassing to call him. He kissed me back before he moved in any other way, and then he let out a sound that rode the edge between a whimper and a moan.

"No, Sin," he mumbled. "My head hurts."

I grinned at his—unintentional, I judged—cliché, and moved my lips to his forehead.

"I could make you not care," I offered, entirely truthfully.

His lips twitched, and then he winced and shook his head slightly, barely more than a tensing of muscles in his neck. "It hurts really bad, fuck, what did I do?"

I raised my head and set my hand on his forehead. I had no idea whether I'd be able to tell the difference, but I said, "You don't feel feverish, and you don't smell sick. Maybe…"

Dominic raised a hand to rest on top of my mine, holding it there. "Feels nice."

"If it's that bad, aspirin would probably feel nicer."

Dominic tightened his fingers over mine. "Don't leave."

"I'll be quick," I promised him, and gently detached myself from him, standing up. I stepped silently away from him to the opposite side of the coffee table, where I'd already set the pill bottle and the glass of water. I came back around, knelt beside him, and let him hear me opening the bottle and shaking a pill into my hand. He didn't open his eyes, even when I tapped a pill against his lips. He opened for it like a baby bird—like me on my maudit knees for Tenax—and I set it on his tongue, then dribbled water carefully into his mouth. He swallowed, grimaced, and turned his head to drink from the glass while I held it. I

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