AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Desmond glances back at me, his dark eyes shimmering with unspoken excitement. I can feel it radiating from him, electrifying my fingers where they touch his. For a moment, his sheer handsomeness threatens to make me lose my footing. He’s like a prince of darkness, eager to reveal his world to me through those dark, captivating eyes and inky hair. The perpetual five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and the elusive dimple lurking just out of sight add to his allure. Even the scar on his lower lip beckons me like a flickering flame.
As I stare at him, something deeper stirs in his eyes, and I’m forced to look away to avoid being ensnared by his gaze.
When the car finally comes to a stop in front of us, I half expect the driver to step out and open the door for us, so when Desmond reaches for the handle and swings it open, I’m genuinely taken aback.
“Did you think I wasn’t a gentleman?” His gaze dances with amusement as I step toward him and settle onto the plush seat.
“No, I thought the driver would open the door for me,” I reply, glancing toward the front of the vehicle. The man behind the wheel remains hidden in the obscurity of the night, but his dark eyes meet my gaze through the rearview mirror.
“He can open his own damn door,” the man behind the wheel snarks.
“Dante,” Desmond scolds, closing the door with a firm thud.
As soon as the door slams shut, Dante pivots in his seat to face me. His dark eyes assess me with an interest that leaves me feeling somewhat uneasy. “Well, aren’t you a sight,” he drawls, whistling softly. His dark brows shoot up to his hairline, the beanie perched on his head obscuring his hair from view.
I just stare at this stranger, a nagging feeling of familiarity dancing at the edges of my mind. “Am I?”
“You’ve got my brother all tied up in knots, not knowing what to do with you.” He chuckles as Desmond slides into the passenger seat beside me. “It’s like he can’t decide whether to fuck you or kill you. To us, it’s all the same.”
“Dante,” Desmond interjects sternly, the command only fueling the other man’s laughter. Dante doesn’t turn to drive away. Instead, he sits there, glaring at Desmond with an almost defiant expression.
After a drawn-out sigh, Desmond finally turns to me. “Charlotte, this is my baby brother, Dante.”
Dante extends a hand toward me, offering a handshake. I’m unsure if I want to shake his hand, but luckily, Desmond smacks it away. “No.”
Dante raises his hand in surrender, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “All right, all right, no touching. I guess that means no sharing,” he says with an almost playful pout.
“Excuse me?” I choke out, my voice betraying my confusion. Did he just mention…sharing?
“Just drive.” Desmond sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s endearing to watch him interact with his brother. Desmond exudes an air of untouchability, and the banter between them makes me like him even more.
After a brief standoff, Dante finally turns around and pulls away from the curb.
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Four,” Desmond answers, reaching for my hand and sending a thrill through me.
“Dessi, Damien, Dom, Darius, and of course, our mama saved the very best for last, me. Dante,” the youngest brother announces from the front of the car. “And baby, I am the best. Listen, come visit me if you get sick of my serious, stoic brother. I could rock your world.”
“Dante.” Desmond groans, gripping my hand a little tighter and placing it on his thigh, where he traces patterns along my palm. “Must you?”
“Yes, I must,” Dante mocks, and to my surprise, I can’t help but laugh.
I quickly slap my free hand over my mouth, but the damage is already done—I’ve laughed at his baby brother.
“It’s all right,” Desmond assures me. “Everyone loves him, but he doesn’t get to have you.”
“Oh, going all caveman on this one,” Dante remarks, insinuating the existence of other women. He must realize what he said because Desmond goes completely still, and the tension in the car escalates. “There aren’t other women. You know.”
Dante tries to look back at me, but Desmond pushes his face forward. “Eyes on the road,” Desmond snarls.
“I know!” Dante snaps. “I’m trying to apologize.”
“It’s a half-assed job,” Desmond mutters to his brother.
Dante finally admits, “There are no other women. Anymore. I mean, there was that one moll who was all up in your shit for like a year when I was sixteen, and you were what—”
“Twenty-four,” Desmond answers, his voice tinged with irritation.
