Madelyn
Dominic was on me again the moment we walked through the door, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist like he thought I might slip out of his grip if he loosened even a little. I could still feel the cool air from outside on my skin, but his hold was warm and heavy, almost like he was trying to anchor me to him. We barely made it into the living room before he dragged me closer, pulling me onto the couch with him. He didn’t even let me sit properly; he pulled me straight onto his lap, tucking me into him, his chin brushing the side of my neck.
The TV was on, playing the evening business report, and of course his face was there—Dominic Blackwell, the cold, untouchable man they all whispered about like he was some myth. Meanwhile the real Dominic had his arms around my waist like
