Page 95 of For the Love of the Gods

His hand resettled in mine, and he passed me my shoes so he could pick up his own.

“Do you know this beach?” Dominic asked as he pulled me along, positioning me so that I was closest to the water.

“Yes,” I responded. “It’s a favorite of mine, actually. I love how high the cliffs go. How you can see the grass and greenery on top.”

The cliffs on this beach were abnormally high, jutting up seemingly out of nowhere next to the flatter expanse that Maria’s restaurant and the town sat on.

“It’s private,” Dominic noted, correctly landing on the reason I liked it so much.

“Feels like our own little world.” My voice sounded weirder—lighter—than normal.

“Do people come down here often?” Dominic asked, keeping his gaze forward. I looked up at him, his side profile defined by the moonlight. The little valley between his high cheekbones and strong jaw, the golden stubble covering it. His nose—straight, but on the larger side.

The hate in my chest flickered, spreading an ache over my shoulders and down my back.

“Sometimes,” I said. “People climb the cliff, I’ve heard.”

“You’ve heard or you know?” Dominic asked, cutting my attempt at humility in half.

“Iknow, jackass.” I jumped in front of him and pulled him toward the little cave I knew was tucked in between two enormous rises of rock. You wouldn’t see it unless you were walking right along the cliff wall, but it was there to the trained eye.

I was one of the trained.

We walked into the crack in the rocks, the sand peppering with grass as we moved further from the shoreline. But not far enough to lose the comforting crashing sound of the water.

I let go of Dominic’s hand and moved toward the wall of rock, momentarily distracted by the low hum, a growl even, that Dominic released.

My hand reached out, touched one of the metal hooks drilled into the rock.

“See?” I asked, turning over my shoulder to Dominic, looking all too demon-like with the moon backlighting his body.

“Grappling hooks,” Dominic said, taking a step toward me.

I spun as he approached, allowing him to press my back into the rock, to the right of the metal. Looking at him made me nervous, a silly flicker of fear shooting down my body. But it was a smarter move than giving him my back. That wasn’t what any person did when they were being hunted.

And I was pretty sure I still was.

Dominic stepped closer, aligning his legs, hips, stomach, chest against every matching part of my body, just several inches higher. I let my head fall back against the rock softly, feeling my neck relax. As if this was how my head was supposed to be positioned. Looking into the deep brown eyes of someone half a foot taller than me.

Those very eyes traced over the lines of my face, deepening the burn of the moon on my skin. I felt like there was a spotlight on me, forcing each one of my features into a harsher, more revealing light.

Dominic looked like he was relishing in that, drinking in my exposed features like they could tell him everything about me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying not to squirm under his assessment.

“Looking at you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like to look at beautiful things,” Dominic said plainly. “Now shut up and let me.”

I acquiesced, only because the silence added to the anticipation growing in my chest. It was fizzing, the bubbles pulling tight then breaking with a satisfying pop.

Dominic pressed into me a little tighter, trapping me against the rough rock, the edges digging into my bare back. The thin straps of my dress were doing nothing to protect me from the onslaught of feeling on both sides of my body.

Dominic lifted a hand, brushing the tips of four fingers over the perimeter of my face and swiping his thumb over the tip of my nose. I squirmed helplessly under his attention, allowing a low sound escape from the back of my throat.

Dominic grinned and I shoved my mouth into the best frown I could. It felt like letting him win to give him an insight into how much he affected me.

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