Page 91 of Stealing Home

Gavin had told him to take his time. Dom knew he meant it. He knew that when he went back downstairs, Gavin wouldn’t be checking the clock or be irritated that bedtime took so long.

When the bottle was empty, Dom settled Lucia against his shoulder and rubbed slow circles over her back until an enormous burp echoed through the room. A second later, Gavin’s laughter carried up from the living room.

“Ten out of ten. No notes,” he called.

Dom smiled and pressed a kiss to Lucia’s temple. “Just like Daddy, huh? Always showing off for an audience.” He walked her around the room for another few minutes, then lowered her into the crib. Her mouth tightened in protest.

“Don’t do it,” he whispered. “Please.”

Lucia shifted her head and went still again, and Dom rested his palm against her stomach until he’d counted ten slow breaths. Then he backed away, grabbed her monitor, and pulled the door closed behind him. The house was quiet as he descended the stairs. Gavin sat on the couch with his boots off and his grandfather’s clipboard balanced on one knee. He’d turned on the lamp beside him but left the television off. At the sound of Dom’s footsteps, he looked up and set his pen across the page.

“She asleep?” he asked quietly.

“For now.”

Gavin glanced at the monitor in Dom’s hand. “And you?”

“What about me?” Dom tilted his head.

“Better?”

Dom set the monitor on the coffee table. The night-vision image showed Lucia sprawled in the center of her crib, one fist beside her cheek. Then he took the clipboard from Gavin’s lap and placed it next to the monitor. Gavin’s eyebrows lifted.

“Not yet,” Dom said. He climbed onto the couch and straddled Gavin’s thighs.

Gavin caught his waist automatically, but his hands remained still against Dom’s sides. “What are you doing?”

Dom leaned in until their mouths were separated by barely an inch. “Improving my night.”

“Is this about the game?”

“No.” He brushed his lips across Gavin’s. “This is about you sitting in my living room looking like that.”

Gavin smirked. “Like what?”

Dom shook his head. “If I explain it, you’ll get smug.”

“I’m already smug.”

“I noticed.” Dom kissed him before he could say anything else.

Gavin’s mouth opened beneath his, and the kiss turned hungry almost immediately. Dom slid his fingers into Gavin’s hair, scratching his nails lightly over his scalp, and the low sound Gavin made went straight through him. Dom kissed him harder. Gavin’s hands moved up Dom’s back, dragging his shirt with them. Warm fingers brushed over bare skin, and Dom pressed closer, settling more firmly over Gavin’s lap.

Gavin broke the kiss with a rough inhale. “Dom.”

“What?” There was no chance Dom was as innocent as he was trying to look at the moment.

Gavin narrowed his eyes. “You need to stop moving like that if you’re planning to keep this under control.”

Dom rocked against him again, slowly enough that there could be no mistaking his intention. The hard ridge beneath Gavin’s jeans pressed exactly where Dom wanted it. “Who said I was trying to keep anything under control?”

Gavin stared at him, his restraint visible in the set of his jaw and the careful grip he had on Dom’s hips. They had done this before, kissed until their thoughts blurred and let their hands wander beneath shirts until Lucia interrupted them. Tonight felt different.

Dom caught the hem of Gavin’s T-shirt and pulled it upward until Gavin lifted his arms and let him drag it over his head. Dom almost swallowed his tongue at the sight before him. How had he managed to go this long without seeing Gavin shirtless? He’d imagined it often enough that the reality shouldn’t have surprised him, but seeing him like this left Dom breathless. Gavin’s broad shoulders tapered into a solid chest marked by pale scars and a scattering of dark-blond hair. Dom ran both hands over him, smiling softly when Gavin shuddered and he felt muscle shift beneath warm skin.

Gavin watched his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dom traced the scar beneath his ribs. “I’m trying to decide where to start.”