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* * *
BELL
“Wow.” Dario came to a stop and raised his eyebrows, his gaze taking an appreciative sweep over my body.
I held out my arms and did a full turn, my yellow dress spinning out with the movement. “You like?”
“Breathtaking.”
He was pretty heart-stopping himself, dressed in a charcoal grey button-up and pin-striped dress pants, the sexy ensemble paired with a few days’ worth of silver and black stubble. He stepped closer and I ran my nails through his thick hair. We kissed and I pressed against him, emboldened by the heels, which put me almost level with him.
“You’re going to torture me in this dress.” He pulled up the hem of it, one palm sliding over my bare ass and squeezing the flesh, his fingers tracing along the edges of my thong.
“That’s the plan.”
His eyes darkened as he explored the tiny scrap of satin that made up my panties. I smiled. I did want to torture him. I wanted him to crave me, wanted him hard and ready by the time we returned to this room. I’d been a patient girl for long enough.
I pushed off his chest and pulled my dress up, exposing the white thong he’d had his hands all over. Looping my fingers underneath the sides of it, I slid it over my hips and down to the floor. Stepping out of the thong, I walked to the dresser and grabbed my clutch, looking over my shoulder at him. “Ready?”
He bit his lip, his eyes dragging from the white lace to me. Letting out a low swear, he shook his head and gestured to the door. “Please. After you.”
* * *
We ate oceanfront, in a little restaurant walking distance from the hotel. I dipped bread in olive oil and looked up to find his eyes on me, his expression guarded.
“What?” I put the bread down.
“I need to talk to you about something.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Leaving Gwen is complicated. There are … issues with her father, the man you spoke to on the phone.”
“We didn’t speak. I just said—”
He brushed off the words, holding up his hand.
I spoke before he had a chance to. “And I’m not asking you to leave Gwen. Not right now.” The defense came out quickly, before I had a chance to think it through.
“I know you aren’t asking for that. But I can’t continue on like we are. It’s not fair to you.” He sighed. “And it’s not fair to her. I haven’t lied to Gwen in…” He stared upward for a moment, then gave a low, frustrated laugh. “I don’t know if I’ve ever lied to Gwen. And what you and I are doing… it feels a lot like lying.” His jaw tightened, and when his gaze caught mine, the weight in it was almost palpable. “How I feel about you … it feels like cheating. It is cheating.”
“But…” I struggled to find my way through his words. “I thought you weren’t cheating. I thought you had an understanding with her. I thought she had some guy she’s messing around with—”
“I’m not talking about cheating on Gwen. I’m talking about cheating on you.”
I inhaled sharply at the words.
“You’re right, it’s not fair to you, for me to have a life with her, one you aren’t a part of. And the sad thing is...” He reached for my hand, gripping it between his palms. I held my breath and waited for the next line. When he finally spoke, it felt more like a dark confession than truth. “I’m in love with you. And I’m terrified at what I’m bringing you into.”
I’m in love with you. The confession competed with the follow-up. Terrified? I curled my fingers around his hands. “Tell me what you are bringing me into.”
Maybe, right then, I should have told him that I was in love with him too. But I’d never felt that, or said that to anyone before. And I needed to know, before I jumped off that cliff, what lay at its bottom.
* * *
DARIO
It wasn’t his story to tell, and he’d never shared Gwen’s story with anyone. But now, looking into Bell’s eyes, he couldn’t keep it from her. If he went forward with Bell, Gwen’s story would soon include her, and she had to understand what she was getting into.
He paused, aware that this could destroy them. If Bell was smart, she’d run. Fake her way through the rest of their night, finish her giant box of Nerds on the drive home, and never answer his calls again.
His chest clenched at the possibility. He had told her he loved her and she hadn’t responded—hadn’t really given him much of an indicator, short of her rapid-fire orgasms, that she was ready for more. Yet, she was here, after dealing with all of his possessive and invasive bullshit. He released her hands, knotted his fingers together to keep from touching her, and shared everything.
