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Samantha
When LeeAnn and John come back into the VIP box, I’m still in shock over what I’ve just done. I rode Dante like a lust-crazed slut in a public place. Anyone could have walked in and seen. I feel filthy…and I want to do it again.
My thighs are sticky with wetness, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I feel thoroughly used, but I don’t doubt him when he says there will be more later. This has been building between us since that first night, and I’m tired of fighting it. He’s an asshole, and he acted like a jerk, but I can’t resist the things he tells me to do. I need them the way I need air. I
try to act natural, talking to LeeAnn before the next act starts, and I’m relieved when it does. I still enjoy the play, but I can’t stop thinking about what I just did, about how good it felt to do what he said, as if he read my mind and knew exactly what I needed.
I do not know how I feel about that. Right now, though, my body is pretty damn approving of it.
The show ends, and we all stand up and head out to the lobby. Dante, John, and LeeAnn decide to have a drink at the bar before we leave, and I excuse myself to go to the restroom. I want to get cleaned up as much as I can and try to get myself back together after what happened between Dante and me. I started this night feeling confident and in control, and now I don’t feel any of that. I feel like a mess of a woman who wants nothing more than to be alone with Dante again.
I spend a little time in the bathroom just breathing. I use some wipes to clean up my thighs, then I touch up my makeup and get my hair back under control. I stand there in my Valentino gown that probably costs more than the first three houses I lived in combined, and I feel like a stranger in my own body. I’m a good girl. I always have been, even with a body that seemed to make men assume the exact opposite. I’ve never felt anything like this, never wanted to be used the way Dante uses me, and it scares the hell out of me.
When I finally feel like I’m able to face him again and continue to play the calm, cool, collected “friend” on his arm, I force myself to leave the bathroom. I’m just rounding the corner, heading toward the bar, when I see Dante. Except he’s not alone, and he’s not standing with LeeAnn and John. There’s a tall, drop-dead gorgeous blonde standing with him. Model gorgeous. And she and Dante are leaning in, talking in a way that suggests a definite closeness and level of familiarity between them that most definitely doesn’t exist between Dante and me. My steps falter, and I feel my stomach twist. Envy, nerves, whatever it is, I kind of feel like I want to throw up.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” I hear a smooth, oily voice say behind me, and I recognize it at once. Anton, the slimy guy from the gala, is standing just behind my right shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here. The night just got a whole lot more interesting.”
“Anton,” I say stiffly, glancing toward Dante. His reaction that first time suggested that he wouldn’t like Anton talking to me, but he’s still engrossed in his discussion with the blonde.
“Ah. Don’t have Dante’s attention tonight, huh? Well, don’t feel too bad,” Anton says, and I can feel his breath on my shoulder.
“Who is she?” I ask, and Anton laughs.
“Dante hasn’t told you?” he sneers.
“Told me what?”
“That’s Marlena. His off-again, on-again fiancée. They break up every few months, and then they always end up back together. They were on a break when he bought you.”
It feels like I’ve been stabbed, right in the heart, and I’m surprised by how much it hurts.
“Looks like they’re about to get back together again, and then he won’t need you anymore,” he continues. “It’s okay, sweetness. Once upon a time, Dante and I used to share all our toys. I’ll make sure you earn out the rest of your contract.”
Now I really want to throw up, and preferably all over Anton’s expensive shoes. Luckily, he laughs low one more time and then walks away, leaving me standing there. I stand there catching my breath, and after a moment, Marlena moves away and Dante glances in my direction. He walks toward me, and he doesn’t look like a man who’s looking at someone who means nothing. He looks like a man on a mission, a man with a singular focus, and it isn’t directed at the blonde.
Anton’s a snake. I know this. I don’t doubt that Dante and Marlena have a history, but I’m the one here now, not her. And Dante doesn’t strike me as the cheating type.
So when he meets my eyes, when he holds out his hand, I do the one thing I’ve wanted to do since the first time our eyes met: I place myself in his hands. It won’t be forever, but I’ll take the way he makes me feel in the moment.
Because he makes me feel alive, and he’s introduced me to a side of myself I didn’t even know existed, and I want more.
Chapter Ten
Dante
It’s a week after the night I took Samantha to that musical, and I’ve had her every way I’ve ever wanted to have a woman. When I’m not working, chances are good that I’ve got her naked and moaning.
And, to be honest, even sometimes when I am working, I’ve got her that way. I’ve been having fun introducing her to her naughtier side. I’m pretty sure that if I live to be a hundred, I’ll still remember the sight of her on her knees, sucking me off while I was on a conference call, like it was yesterday.
Even the thought of it has me hard, and I hit the gas a little harder. I’m about ten minutes from home, and I’ve been thinking about how good it would be to have her bent over the dining room table while I pound into her.
She’s addictive. So hot, so damn sweet I know I’ll never get my fill.
And it’s more than sex. I get this funny little twist in my gut, this tightening in my chest sometimes when I watch her sleep. And there’s the problem right there.
I want to keep her. The idea of letting her go makes me feel empty inside.
So I try not to think about it. Because no matter how badly I want to keep her, I’m enough of a realist to know it just won’t work. First of all, no matter how damn sweet and innocent she is—or was—she is a stripper. She’s a woman who takes her clothes off for strangers, for money. Anton already knows what she is. It wouldn’t be long before at least a few people found out. And in addition to the stripper thing, she grew up in a totally different world. She does well enough at the events I take her to, but this clearly isn’t her world.
