“You’ve never been strapped down,” Jesse hissed, leaning over the space between their seats, pressing their faces so close that Dom’s eyes blurred into a mess of copper. “You’ve never been stabbed over and over with different poisons just to see if you’ve built up a tolerance for them. You’ve never been paraded around to see if someone will bid high enough for your body this time. You’ve never been someone else’s fucking property, Dom, so don’t you dare tell me what to do with my body.”
Jesse realized how close he’d gotten to Dom. How hot Dom burned against him. Then he realized how much ammunition he’d also given that bastard. All handy bullets to shoot him down with.
He sat back heavily in his seat, breathing hard, trying to calm down. Back to the station. Maybe the other guys would be there. And he wouldn’t have to see Dom judging him anymore.
“Sinclair,” Dom began.
“I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry, or some stupid crap like that,” Jesse snapped. “It’s over. I don’t care.”
Dom reached over and grasped Jesse’s wrist, a warm weight on his skin.
For a second, Jesse tensed, surprised at the touch. He stared at the dashboard of the truck, listening to the quiet hum of the engine.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re not a psycho.”
Jesse swallowed. Then he turned to look at Dom, half-expecting to see pity, or arrogance, or whatever.
But Dom’s gaze was even, and there wasn’t an ounce of judgment on his face. Just... a pensive look. Maybe regret. “I didn’t know about the beads,” Dom said quietly. “I won’t mention them again.”
“But you’ll still look at them like they’re some kind of alien eggs,” Jesse muttered. “You know what, lemme just get them out—” He fished around in his pocket for a utility knife, sliding its blade out.
Dom swore and retracted the knife, pushing it back into Jesse’s pants. “No. That wasn’t what I was asking. Don’t fucking do that.”
“Why the hell not?” Jesse bristled. “My body, Dom, not yours.”
“I don’t want you to fucking hurt yourself.” Dom’s eyes flashed. “Don’t ever do that.”
“What, so you’re the boss of me, now?” Jesse seethed.
“Yeah, I’m your boss, and I’m going to tell you exactly what to do.” Dom reached into Jesse’s pocket, pulling out the utility knife. Then he set that on the other side of the truck cabin.
“It’s not like I can’t find other tools,” Jesse muttered. “Hell, I can even pick up a corkscrew—”
“Do you not understand what I’m trying to say?” Dom hissed, scowling. “Or do you just want to be punished?”
Jesse froze, his thoughts crashing into each other like cars in a multi-vehicle pileup. He’d had plenty of punishments back at the Facility. But Dom’s punishments... Jesse remembered two nights ago, and the drunken kiss in the shadows.
“What kind of punishments are we talking?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry.
Dom raised an eyebrow, one corner of his lips pulling into a slow smirk. “We’re going that route, huh?”
“I didn’t agree.” But that dark thrill was back, the same urge that had hissed through his veins when Dom had threatened to fuck him.
Dom caught his chin roughly, turning Jesse to face him. Their eyes met; Dom’s gaze dipped down to Jesse’s mouth. His stare roved from one corner of Jesse’s lips to the other, and hunger flickered through his eyes. As though he was thinking about tasting Jesse, dipping into his mouth.
For a second, Jesse thought Dom might kiss him. But they were out in the open, in broad daylight, and neither of them were drunk.
He couldn’t fight the disappointment in his chest. Why would I even want his kiss?
Except it seemed like such a good idea to get drunk on that pleasure. Especially when Dom said nothing of Jesse’s time in captivity. Like maybe he didn’t care about it. Maybe Jesse’s outburst had made Dom stop judging him.
Dom leaned in, so close that his breath fell heavy on Jesse’s mouth. For an intense moment, Jesse only saw the copper-brown of Dom’s eyes, and he only felt the swell of heat from Dom’s body. He smelled the thrilling blackwood scent that washed over him, and he wanted it on his skin.
It was wrong. But he could suddenly imagine this alpha as his alpha, and it unnerved him, at the same time he was curious how that would turn out.
Then Dom leaned away, releasing Jesse. He blew out a breath. “Head back to the station, Jesse.”
That felt like a punch in the face. Since when have you wanted him to call you Sinclair? Jesse reeled, trying to come to terms with the jumble of emotions in his chest. Stop letting it affect you. Don’t give him that kind of power.
He didn’t need anyone else having power over him.
Jesse ignored his too-tight pants, trying to focus on the truck. On getting them back to the station.
He’s just messing with your head. Get over it.
There were alphas in the world, like Harris and Valen, who found each other. Then there were alphas like Jesse and Dom, who didn’t. Why was the voice in Jesse’s chest telling them they could?
10
Bar Nights Part 4
Jesse wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen during the next bar night, but it certainly wasn’t for Dom to leave the party first.
Dom paid the bill, telling them that the rest of their drinks would be on him, too. Then he’d left without a second glance, and the anticipation that had been building all night in Jesse’s stomach just... deflated.
The bar night after that, Dom pulled the same crap.
On the third bar night, Jesse stalked after him out the back door, grabbing his arm. Then he swung Dom around, glowering. “Why the fuck are you doing this?”
Dom narrowed his eyes. “Doing what? Going
