Page 34 of Rebel Protector

Becca’s head was swirling, spinning out of control, as if the world had just tilted on its axis.

Oh. My. God.

What the hell was that?

She could still feel his hands on her skin, the lingering heat of their bodies crashing together. And now? Now there was nothing but silence and the faint echo of her own heart pounding. It felt like she’d lost a piece of herself in that moment, something vital and wild, something she wasn’t sure she could ever get back. What must he think of her now?

Embarrassed, she refused to meet his gaze. She couldn’t. Her body screamed at her to look—look at him, at this man who had just wrecked her—but she didn’t trust herself. The shame and confusion knotted in her chest too tightly. She needed space, needed air.

Without a word, she slid off the countertop, disentangling herself from his grip. Her body felt foreign, exposed, vulnerable. Her dress, once clinging to her skin, had fallen in the chaos, discarded like everything else. She could still feel the imprint of his hands all over her—rough, urgent, unapologetic. It was toomuch. She bent down, fumbling for the fabric, hastily buttoning it, though her hands trembled.

“You okay?” His voice was gentle, concerned.

Her throat tightened. She stole a glance at him and regretted it. He stood there, naked, glistening in the dim light like some kind of god. His chest, his abs, everything about him was carved from stone—perfect and infuriatingly calm.

Damn him. How could he look like that when she felt so broken?

“Yeah, I think so,” she croaked, even though her throat felt like it was closing in on itself.

“Becca—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” she cut him off, her voice sharper than she intended. She could feel her control slipping, unraveling at the edges. She didn’t want to explain what had happened—she couldn’t.

Dom’s brow furrowed, surprise flickering in his eyes. But then he nodded, swallowing whatever he had been about to say. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t know what she wanted, but talking about it? Talking would make it real. How could she possibly explain what had just happened? How could she make him understand the storm raging inside her? That it wasn’t just about him—it was everything. The fear, the grief, the overwhelming sense that she was spiraling into something she couldn’t control.

Her hands shook as she fumbled with the buttons of her dress, the silence stretching between them like a chasm she didn’t know how to cross.

“It’s a lot,” she finally whispered, her voice brittle.

“I know,” he said quietly.

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and what she saw scared her even more than her own loss of control. Desire, confusion… tenderness. God, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It couldn’t be.

Oh, boy.

“Do you want me to stay?”

She flinched at the question, her heart lurching. After everything that had just happened, how could she kick him out? Yet, she needed to be alone. Needed to process what had happened, revel in the deliciousness of her reckless abandon, hold on to those moments and play them on repeat until she’d made some sense out of it.

Until then, she couldn’t face him.

“No,” she whispered. “I’ve got an early start.”

He gave a simple nod, like he’d been expecting that answer. Was she that predictable? “That’s okay,” he said. “I have to pack anyway. Heading out around noon tomorrow.”

He would have stayed if she’d wanted him to, she knew that. Something tingled inside her, fluttering around her chest, but she shoved it down. There was no room for that right now.

“Where are you going?” It felt safer to talk about that. Something, anything, other than the whirlwind inside her.

“Back to Colombia.” His tone darkened, and he didn’t need to say more. She knew what it meant—another shipment, more danger. He was stepping back into the fire, where men like him lived.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Shit. That sounded too much like she cared, like she couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt.

His lips quirked. “I always am.”

She nodded, turning away to hide her flaming cheeks.