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“Did I hurt you?” I asked, though in my gut I knew I hadn’t. Whatever was going on with him wasn’t about pain…at least not physical pain.
Which didn’t bode well for either of us.
“I should go get cleaned up,” he murmured, though he still refused to turn his head to look at me.
I not we…yeah, that definitely wasn’t a good sign.
The remnants of my orgasm faded away as I carefully pulled free of Dante’s body. The sight of my release in the condom left me with a sense of regret.
Not for what we’d done…no, I definitely didn’t have any regrets about that.
What I was regretting was the fact nothing of me was being left behind. I wanted him to be carrying my mark…I wanted to know that a part of me still lingered inside of him...proof of what we’d done and how good it had been.
Proof that he was mine.
My eyes fell on where’d I’d bitten down on his shoulder. Luckily, I hadn’t broken the skin. But the red mark would fade in a day, two at the most. And since Dante was clearly retreating from me, there’d be nothing left to remind him of me and how badly we’d wanted each other…needed each other.
“Come upstairs,” I urged as I settled one hand on his bicep. “My shower’s big enough for two.”
The invitation was brushed off with a shake of the head. “I’m fine using the guest bathroom down here.”
All the emotions I’d been struggling with before the encounter with Dante came rushing back, only now they were nearly crippling me as Dante’s rejection hung over my head. I’d become one of his conquests, nothing more. And I couldn’t even fault him for it, because this whole thing had been on me. I’d pursued him. I’d refused to let him go when he’d tried to walk away.
I stepped back and removed the condom, tying it off. I pulled my pants up and fastened them even as Dante remained where he was, unmoving. I felt cold inside as I grabbed my shirt off the floor. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”
Why the fuck wouldn’t he turn around and look at me? Had this all really just been another random fuck to him?
“I’ll call,” was all he said.
Every moment after that felt like I was doing it underwater. Leaving him there just outside the den without another word. Going upstairs and showering. Putting on clean clothes and going down to the barn to feed the horses. Making a simple sandwich for dinner and eating it in bed before turning out the lights and wishing the day was over, even though darkness hadn’t even fallen yet.
I felt nothing. I tasted nothing. I heard nothing. The only thing I did with any kind of certainty was stop myself from going to check the den to see if it was empty or not. Even my nightly call with Matty had been something to get through rather than something to look forward to.
But for all the shit I’d wanted to escape, I wasn’t that lucky because I couldn’t sleep. I glanced at the clock and saw it was well after midnight. I hadn’t remembered to close the curtains, so moonlight was filtering in through the window, making it lighter in my bedroom than I normally liked. But it was also comforting in a way. A reminder that the world was still going on as scheduled even if my entire universe felt like it had imploded.
I was about to reach for my phone so I could listen to the many voicemails the prosecutor had left me, when I heard my doorknob turning and I automatically grabbed the loaded gun I kept on the nightstand. But I left it where it was when the door opened to reveal Dante. Relief flooded my insides at the knowledge that he hadn’t left, but any excitement I felt that he’d come to my room was short-lived because I could tell from his hunched frame that he was far from okay. His gun was hanging at his side and he was only wearing a pair of sweats, but since there was no urgency in his motions, I figured he was carrying it around out of habit and not because there was any kind of threat.
I levered up enough so I could watch him, but I didn’t say anything and neither did he. He made his way to the bed and just stood there for a moment. There was enough light to see the desperation on his face as he watched me. But I saw the confusion and anguish too. Whatever was going on with him was obviously fucking with his head. I waited for him to speak…to say anything, but he just stood there. I sensed that anything I said would send him running, so I shifted back on the bed a little and then lifted the blanket in invitation. He hesitated for what seemed like a lifetime, but was probably only a few seconds, before he put his gun down next to mine on the nightstand and then crawled into the bed next to me. He put his back to me as I lowered the blanket over both of us.
