4
Raina.
It wasn’t supposed to be a habit.
We weren’t supposed to keep… doing this. Whatever this was.
Two nights ago, he’d had me bent over my kitchen counter like he owned me. And I let him. I had craved it. Craved him.
But that was supposed to be it. Just dinner. Just s*x. Just a bad idea I could file away under things I’ll regret when I’m older.
Except here I was, again, pulling into his driveway at 10:43 p.m., heart racing, coat buttoned all the way up even though it was too warm for layers.
Underneath, I wore nothing but lace.
I sat in the car for three full minutes before knocking. Dominic opened the door fast like he’d been waiting behind it the whole time.
He was in dark t-shirt, low sweatpants, hair slightly mussed like he’d been running his hands through it. Or maybe h
