If You Dare: An Erotic Sequel

Epilogue

"Ouch, that hurts!" you whined as you attempted to shimmy away from Domino on the bed.

"It wouldn't hurt as much if you would only sit still," Domino's painted lips fanned out as he huffed out an exasperated breath. "We need to get your stitches out before they become embedded in your skin."

You screwed your eyes shut, nauseous at the sight of the black string threading though the holes in your skin. The thread tugged on your flesh at all the worst moments, making your stomach roll with unease and discomfort. You had never had stitches before – and you didn't plan on having them again anytime soon. Instead of focusing on the quick work he made with his gloved fingers and a pair of tweezers, you focused on his intent look and the way his pink tongue bulged from the seam of his half-black, half-white mouth. Your eyes devoured the smooth, high planes that juxtaposed the sharp angles of his face. While in the hospital, your unwavering confidence had blinded you to the reality that you might have never seen him again. So much could have gone wrong...

Domino's green eyes shifted from your wounded shoulder to drink in the sight of your reverent expression. His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows traveled towards his hairline.

"You're staring at me," he observed flatly.

"Did you ever consider the possibility that you might never see me again?" you asked.

Domino's gaze dropped to your wound as he carefully unthreaded another stitch.

"I wasn't physically, mentally, or emotionally capable of considering the possibility," he whispered before placing a sweet kiss on your collarbone.

He grimaced, his expression overflowing with sorrow – even regret.

"It was my fault that woman shot you," he murmured, not even daring to speak the dancer's name. "I should have never propositioned you with such a ridiculous game. All I wanted was to tease out your inner hellion and help you realize your place with me, but I only put your life at risk." His shoulders hunched forward as a painful realization gripped his body. In a voice barely above a whisper, he choked out, "I'm undeserving of you."

Domino's fears and doubts had shriveled his charisma, reducing him to microscopic proportions and a mere husk of the man he normally portrayed himself to be. You sat in stunned silence as he buried his painted face in his hands. Never had you imagined a time when he would allow you to see him so vulnerable and... defeated. You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and urged him to look at you. Reluctantly, he unburied his face and tentatively peeked at you through the gaps in his fingers.

"You don't think I felt inadequate and undeserving when Natalia pointed the gun at Salvatore Amato, aiming to kill?" you countered. "She would have killed to prove her worth to you, the one thing I am not capable of doing. So many of your female followers would be willing to do the same. Do you know how this knowledge destroys me?" In a smaller, less certain voice, you pressed, "Why me? You could have any woman you wanted, each more beautiful than the last."

Domino quietly studied you, your outburst washing over him like a wave of potent emotion. His silver curls brushed his shoulders as he inclined his head, a faint, wry smile twisting his mouth.

"Remember what I told you the night you set the garbage can on fire?" he prompted.

Your teeth captured your bottom lip.

Bashfully, you admitted with a laugh, "Too much happened that night. Could you refresh my memory?"

Domino clasped your hands firmly in his own.

"I'm not looking for a miniature version of myself." His words tapped the deepest recesses of your brain, the memory of that particular conversation striking you with surprising clarity. You supposed you had tucked these words in a secret compartment of your brain because, deep down, you didn't fully believe them. At the look of dawning comprehension in your eyes, he continued, "Before I met you, I was swarmed by women who wanted to serve me. No one wanted to be my equal. I dreamt of a strong, self-assured woman capable of having an identity outside of me. I wanted someone who could complement me, not copy my every move."

Domino raked his fingers through your short hair and cradled the base of your skull. You loathed openly admitting your shortcomings and insecurities, but his words acted as a healing salve on your internal wounds. The vestiges of your lingering reservations faded into the background. In that moment, you trusted him with your heart and soul.

"When I recognized you on the news," he stroked your cheek with his thumb, "I remembered the first time I saw you on the subway. I remembered how I couldn't take my eyes off of you. And, as I watched you on the screen, I thought, 'Now that's a woman that can hold her own.' And," he smirked "you're the only woman capable of truly understanding me because of your inherent goodness. You see all of me, the good and the bad, and embrace me as I am. Do you really think Natalia would have been capable of appreciating my vulnerability and humanity?"

Your eyes hardened with jealousy. "She might have surprised you."

He gripped the base of your skull tighter.

"Listen to me," he breathed, "you represent the best of me. You're my light. You belong to me. I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you."

You gently clasped his hand.

Quietly entreating him with your eyes, you said, "I don't need you to protect me. I'm your partner in crime. We're in this together."

He snorted. "Have you seen the news lately?"

Before you could answer, he fumbled for the remote and flipped on the TV. As if on cue, a handsome, well-dressed man in a powerful suit, a light growth of stubble roughening his chiseled features, was swarmed by reporters on the streets of New York City.

"How much longer will we allow this domestic terrorist to reign supreme?" his strong, powerful voice boomed into the microphone. "How much longer will the citizens of New York live in fear for their lives? This man poses a threat to the well-being of this city, the police, and, naturally, all those who oppose him. If he's capable of turning the mind of a renowned criminologist, a woman who once upheld the principles of justice, then who is safe from his tyranny? This is precisely the reason I am running for mayor. If I am elected into office, I will use whatever means necessary to rid New York of the diabolical Domino."

He turned to face you. "Do you now understand why I have to protect you? The war is only intensifying. Adrian Wolfe, New York City's most promising candidate, represents all that I despise. He's a wealthy powerful businessman who inherited the company from his late father, a man that I single-handedly killed." Domino reclined against the bed, using his folded arms as a pillow. "To say Adrian Wolfe has a personal vendetta against me is an understatement. If he is elected as mayor of New York City, which will undoubtedly be the case, he will stop at nothing. The city's turmoil has intensified since your escape from the hospital. Now that you've identified yourself as my partner, you're a potential target. I could never live with myself if anything happened to you."

You lightly caressed the white side of Domino's face.

"I'm not afraid," you whispered. "I can't go back to the way things were before. You've changed me in every possible way. Besides," you added with a coy smile, "I know self-defense, I know how to use a gun, and I was trained to handle high-pressure situations. I can use my training to prepare your army. Most of your supporters are average people who came from humble backgrounds." He glanced down as you tangled your fingers with his. "We're in this together, Domino – us against the world."

Domino's light eyes penetrated yours. "You understand what you're agreeing to, don't you? I'm going to train my supporters harder than ever before. A storm has been brewing in New York City for years. A match was ignited upon your admittance to the hospital. Soon, the entire city will be engulfed in flames. Are you prepared for what awaits us on the horizon?"

The widespread riots that had erupted upon your hospitalization had threatened to swallow the city whole. Politicians didn't care that no one had been killed during your escape. The sheer chaos had sparked the opposition into action. From this point forward, you wouldn't be setting fires to garbage cans for the simple fun of it. You found yourself drawn into Domino's mission and lifelong struggle – and you loved every second of it. His actions and goals gave you a sense of purpose.

You clutched fistfuls of his crimson dress shirt and yanked him forward.

"I understand completely," you husked before capturing his mouth in a fevered, impassioned kiss, careful not to strain your body.

Domino had sought to tease out your inner hellion, and his methods had undoubtedly succeeded. It was good timing because, as he had made perfectly clear, a war loomed on the horizon.