Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)(26)

Domini clapped her hand over her mouth as the truth jarred her. His reaction tonight wasn’t an oversight in a moment of passion; it’d been calculated, like all their sexual encounters had been.


Cam, that sneaky jerk, didn’t want her to see his prosthesis. Tonight he’d blindfolded her so when he did strip down, she couldn’t see anything.


Domini tried to wrap her head around the fact he always bent her over the closest horizontal surface. He’d not allowed additional touching, no eye contact. And by bending her over, three freakin’ times now, she wouldn’t feel the difference of his artificial leg as he pounded into her from behind. She’d just remember how hot and kinky it was that he f*cked her so thoroughly.


Don’t move. Keep your hands just like that.


If he commanded her during the actual act of sex as well as foreplay, then she’d be less inclined to disobey and reach back to grab his thigh. Or the stump where his thigh used to be.


Damn him. Cam could continue keeping her off balance by seeing to her sexual needs, especially when she’d already given him control. Was Cam hoping all Domini would remember in the aftermath when she was alone was the blazing hot sex?


Yes.


Well, she had news for him. Not happening. Next time he’d come to her honestly, with the same trust she’d shown him, the same willingness to put himself out there, or he wouldn’t come to her at all.


And neither of them would come.


Domini grabbed her robe off the floor and hoped a shower would cool her burst of anger.


But somehow she doubted it.


Chapter Seven


“Domini, can I have a glass of milk?”


She set the blue marker in the crack of the coloring book. “Pretty soon you’ll start mooing.”


Anton shrugged. “I like it.”


She ruffled his blond hair. “To be honest, your milk addiction gives me an excuse to keep cookies around.” She filled Anton’s favorite Denver Broncos mug. As she plunked it on the table, she peered over his shoulder at what he’d been working on with such diligence.


Her jaw dropped. She’d always considered Anton’s artistic skills advanced for a seven-year-old boy, but this was beyond anything she’d seen so far. It was a pencil drawing of the road leading out of town. In the left hand corner was a small rendering of the building she lived in, which had a glow about it.


The depth perception was incredible, the telephone poles, the fence line, the pavement decreased in size and breadth, fading away until it was barely a speck. The landscape was stark and minimal, but it was the overall tone of the picture that left Domini feeling bleak.


Did Anton feel that way? Or was this just a picture?


Domini realized he’d gone utterly still. Was he waiting for her to criticize his work? “Anton, this is amazing. Did you just do that today?”


He reached for his milk and his legs began to swing under the table again. “Uh-huh.”


“Can I have it when you’re done with it?”


A beat of hesitation, then, “You really want it?”


“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”


“’Cause it’s not happy. My mom only wants the happy pictures I draw.”


“I like all kinds of pictures.” Domini couldn’t resist smoothing his cowlick. “What were you thinking about when you drew this?”


Another drink of milk. “Sometimes I watch out the back window when mom is driving home. I keep watching until your building is tiny. Just like this.” He pointed at the drawing. “I’m thinking about you because I miss you.” He paused and said softly, “I wish you still lived with us.”


“I miss you too. But I understand why your mom wanted to have a place for just the two of you.”


Anton’s head whipped up. His pale blue eyes shone with accusation. “But it isn’t just the two of us. He comes over all the time now.”



Domini froze. Only one nameless he in Anton’s life. “Your father has been there?”


“Betcha she didn’t tell you that, huh?”


“No, she didn’t.” Nadia and Rex. There was a good reason Nadia kept her contact with her ex to the absolute minimum—the man was an abusive *. “Is she trying to make you spend time with him?”


His shoulder lifted. “No. He doesn’t talk to me at all, but I don’t care. Really. I don’t.”


Although she was upset with Nadia, she pasted on a smile for Anton. “Well, I’m glad she’s letting you spend time with me, even if my artistic skills are limited to coloring inside the lines.”


Anton hopped up and used a magnet to attach the picture to the fridge.


Domini set her hands on his shoulders. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”


“Yeah.” Anton cranked his head around and smirked. “So were you lyin’ about the cookies?”


“Talk about impatient.” She snagged a cookie from the breadbox and slid it into the microwave, so the dough would be warm and the chips inside gooey, just the way Anton liked it.


After the snack, they watched TV. Domini covered Anton up with an afghan when he conked out.