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I close my eyes, lost in the afterglow. All the restlessness I’ve been plagued with lately disappears for a minute, melting into a little slice of bliss that can’t last—but that was definitely worth breaking a few rules for.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, the words coming out slow as molasses.
“You took the words right outta my mouth.” Dante pushes my hair to the side and kisses the back of my neck with a low chuckle, then slaps my ass and pulls out.
The sharp sting makes me bite back a smile, my entire lower body tingling.
“I gotta admit, princess, I’m glad my business meeting ended up being here tonight,” he says, sliding off the condom and tossing it into a little trash can in the corner as I turn around to face him.
“Me too,” I murmur as he tucks himself away and zips up his pants.
Dante passes me my pants like a gentleman, and I pull them on bare, then snag what’s left of my g-string off the floor and dangle the scrap of sex-scented material in front of his face.
“Not so glad you cost me these,” I say, arching a brow.
That’s a lie. Sacrificing a pair of panties for the hottest sex I’ve ever had was totally worth it.
Dante chuckles, snatching the destroyed g-string from my hand and pocketing it before I can stop him.
“Memento,” he says with a wink. “I forgot to pick up a postcard in the giftshop, so this will have to do.”
“You’re an ass.” I snort, trying not to grin, then look around. “Where’s my top?”
His eyes heat up a little, and he moves in, wrapping one of those big, inked-up arms around my waist as he palms my breast. “You sure you want it? This is a good look on you.”
His hands on me feel a little too good, so I laugh and shove him away. Too good isn’t what I’m here for. This was a one and done, and it needs to stay that way. Especially because it already feels like he got to me more than he should have.
I just needed some stress relief, and he delivered. But now…
“We need to get out of here,” I tell him, spying my tank top hanging from a tipped-over case of cleaning supplies on one of the shelves.
I step over to grab it and slip it over my head, and Dante nods, a little smile hovering over his mouth.
“Sure thing, princess.”
But instead of leaving, he grabs the bottle of whiskey and takes another swig.
He doesn’t swallow it. Just lets the bottle dangle from his hand, sauntering over and crowding me up against the shelf behind me with a look in his eyes that makes me want to fuck him all over again.
“Dante,” I start, my pulse speeding up as I rest a hand on his chest.
He shuts me up by kissing me, letting the whiskey pour into my mouth as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck and holds me in place.
It’s possessive and dominant and hot as hell, and I moan, molding myself against him as my body throbs in response.
I swallow the whiskey, and he takes my mouth by storm.
No, not by storm. He’s a fucking tsunami. All that laid-back charm and lazy flirtatiousness is the deceptively gentle swell you’d see moving over the surface out in the deep. But once it hits the shore?
He’s not just intense, he’s fucking devastating.
I wrap myself around him, and he bites at my lips, devouring me like he’s starving. Kissing me like he’s trying to memorize my taste. Taking what he wants like he needs to get enough to last the rest of his life.
Or maybeI’mthe one trying to get enough. Because the truth is, this man isn’t just a bad decision. He could easily become a dangerously addictive one.
Something crashes out in the hallway a few seconds later, loud voices moving past us, and I finally snap out of it when Dante laughs ruefully, his mouth curving against my lips as our eyes open at the same time.
“Gotta go,” he whispers, tightening his grip on the back of my neck for a second. Then he kisses me hard one more time, sighs, and steps back. “We good?”
