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“Youdidmake it,” I say. “So the least you can do is to answer for it.”
After a pause, he says, “No. If they’ve killed or hurt innocent people, kids, then they’re ready to pay the price.”
“Then you’re a little messed up,” I say, “but you’re not a bad person. I’m a little messed up, too.”
“A little messed up.” He laughs huskily, disbelievingly, like he’s wondering if he heard me right. “Most people would say it’s more than that.” He smooths his hand further up back, looking up at me. “You deserve a normal life, Mia. A normal man. After everything you’ve been through?—”
“That doesnotdefine me,” I tell him. “I’ve already told you that. Anyway, after Dad, after all that crap, maybe I’m happy I’ve found somebody who’s made a difference.”
I wrap my arms around him. He clings onto me hungrily, squeezing me against him. From how he breathes heavily and quickly, I can tell he’s been waiting to unload this for a long time. Whether or not he knew it, this has been weighing him down, dragging on him.
“You never have to be scared of beingyouwith me, Dante,” I whisper, running my hands over his back as he does the same like we’re blending. He can feel the intensity of my pounding heartbeat, and I can feel his. “I don’t judge you. I could never be scared of you.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” he groans, his breath moving warmly over my neck, tickling down my body.
“This… us?” I ask.
“The second I saw you,” he says huskily, “standing at the front of the house, that smile on your face, looking confident and nervous at the same time, and so damn beautiful…”
“The second I saw you,” I whisper, sinking my fingernails into him, wishing I could melt into him and not even caring how crazy it probably makes me. “Looking so serious, so unimpressed… You changed me. I never wanted a man. I seriously shut down that part of myself, but you turned it on.”
“We did it to each other.” He kisses my neck, then buries his face against me. “I miss you so much. So. Damn. Much. Mia, none of it makes?—”
“Sense?” I cut in, kissing his cheek and pressing my face against his, feeling the warmth of our skin-on-skin contact. “I don’t think it ever will. Does it have to?”
“I hate questions,” he says.
“Me too,” I reply. “Let’s just… be. We don’t have to analyze it all the time.”
“Is this enough of a date for you?” he says, and I can tell he’s smiling from his tone. “A foodless meal in a deserted restaurant and learning your boyfriend is a psycho killer?”
I lean back with a gasp. “Somehow, the most shocking part of that isboyfriend.”
He moves forward and crushes my lips with a passionate kiss. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to address the wholeboyfriendthing. I almost try to stop him, but the lust pulsing in my body won’t let me.
The kiss gets deeper. He pulls against me like he’s trying to pull into me and fuse us together. I sink against him, feeling his hardness, his rod pressing through his pants. He moans through the kiss.
I lean away, my heart pounding, my nerves and the past trying to make me stop, but I won’t listen to that. I’m doing whatIwant, not what certain events will try to force me into doing.
“Shall we get out of here?” I ask.
He leans back and nods. “Yeah, you’ve seen enough.”
“It’s just…” As I slide from his lap, something tries to force my lips closed: perhaps shame, fear, regret, or something else unhelpful. Those are parts of the old Mia who had to hide behind the shield she showed the rest of the world. “Maybe we could go to our place?”
“Our place?” He stands up, smirking, his eyes getting a dreamy look. “Are you sure you don’t want to run? I wouldn’t blame you. You deserve?—”
I grab his shoulders and pull myself into a kiss. He groans in that hungry, Dante way, then lifts me off my feet as though I weigh nothing. The flying feeling makes me laugh, and I wrap my legs around him, grinding against him. “Don’t tell me what I deserve,” I snap. “Don’t tell me you’re not good enough or any of that.I’mchoosing from now on.”
He softly places me down. “If you still want me, you’re as fucked up as me.”
“Maybe I am. Doesn’t that make us perfect for each other?”
“No, Mia. You’re the only perfect one.”
He leans down, kisses me again, then takes my hand and leads me from the restaurant. He’s probably right. There’s probably something wrong with me, but I support him. I know he’s doing the right thing for the right reasons, even if it seems so damn twisted.
He’s my man, and I’m loyal to him.
