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Dante’s jaw clenches. He stalks forward, moving with slow, deliberate steps. “If being a good businessman makes me a bad person, then you don’t know how bad I can be.”
Goosebumps rise over my arms and my skin tingles with the desire to be touched. The electricity seems to increase as he draws nearer. I fight to keep my eyes on his. My face flames with heat—embarrassment and arousal mixed—but I’m not going to back down.
“You don’t scare me,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to seem confident but slightly unsure of the current situation.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” I hesitate. “This is my studio, Dante.”
“Clearly,” he replies as he takes one step forward.
I don’t know how to feel about him being here. About how he is acting with me. But as I watch him take a deep breath in, his jaw rigid as he glances around once more, I realize that whatever he is upset about, he isn’t going to go away silently.
“Then if you know that, why are you still here?”
“That’s irrelevant. Why did you leave the door open?” He couldn’t seriously be going back to this. It wasn’t like I intentionally did it.
“There’s no bad guys around here, Dante,” I reply firmly, my hand on my hip as I stare at him, unwilling to back down no matter how nervous he makes me being as close as he is.
He stalks towards me, his eyes staring daggers into me as he speaks. “Forget about the bad guys in Willowcreek. There are bored kids who could have snuck in and stolen Knox’s tools.”
Shit. As much as I don’t want to admit it, he has a point. While a bad guy may not come in here and do anything to me, it doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have stolen other things. My mood had been so fogged over with thoughts of Dante that I was completely careless about his brother’s belongings.
Though thinking back, Knox leaves the house unlocked all the time.
Clearing my throat, I lift my chin a little higher, balling my fist at my side. “Knox leaves the house unlocked when we go for lunch all the time. So you don’t get to yell at me for doing the same.”
He stalks towards me, not stopping until he’s right up in my space, staring down at me. I may not be able to speak up, but I refuse to move. I stare back, refusing to be the one that breaks first. Knox is right. I need to stand up for myself. And Dante wants to take this property and ruin it. If I can’t stand up against him, who am I supposed to stand up against?
But my body won’t listen to me. I’m supposed to be staring him down but my eyes keep drawing to his lips. They’re just so sexy and distracting. Slightly parted, perfectly shaped to fit with his square jaw.
The smell coming off him is divine. Musky, manly, with notes of the forest. I want to bury my face into his skin and inhale that scent deep into my lungs. And with those blazing eyes of his, he looks even more sexy here in person than he was in my dreams.
Ugh. I can’t have done him justice in my painting.
I’m unsteady, torn between turning my back on him and closing the distance between us. I don’t know what will be more brazen. Dammit! He should be minding his own business instead of getting so close to me. And I shouldn’t be enjoying his proximity.
I open my mouth to tell him to leave—or at least, to back up out of my face—but before I can, he reaches out. Somehow it feels like everything happens in a second, yet it also feels so deliberate, like I have plenty of time to pull away if I want.
His hand grips my throat, pulling me towards him, and my breath catches. I don’t have a moment to process what’s happening as his lips crash on mine in frenzied hunger. Every nerve in my body is set alight, my core aching at the possessive way he touches me.
It’s as if I’m living and breathing Dante Lewis.
As his hand slides around to the back of my head he fists my hair, pulling me forcefully flush against his body. I grasp at his biceps, greedily feeling the strength of his arms through the dress shirt he wears. His buttons rub against my tank top, and through my skin, causing my hardened nipples to ache as they press into his chest. My eyes close as heat and desire sweep through me.
I can’t count how many times I dreamt of this moment. Dreamt of how he would hold me… touch me. Though never in my life did I believe it would happen. Softly he teases my lips with his tongue, the willingness in my desire evident as I let them fall open, moaning into his mouth.
Every single one of his fingers sends an electric pulse straight to my aching core. Especially when I feel his thick hard cock pressing through our clothing. I’m defenseless in his arms, willing to let him take everything that he wants without a moment's hesitation.
He pulls away as quickly as he started. My breaths come out in ragged pants as I try to draw air into my lungs. “Dante?—”
His name on my lips seems to make him freeze as he stares down at me with the same shock in his eyes that I feel coursing through my blood. And as I let my fingers gently brush across his chest, he quickly pulls away.
I stumble, but Dante catches my elbow, steadying me. As soon as I’ve regained my balance, though, he releases me. Straightening his shirt as he steps back. The tension lingering in his body disappears as his eyes grow cold.
In just a second, he’s changed from that hot, passionate Dante to the cold businessman I’ve come to learn to despise. A chill washes down my spine as I watch him, searching for any sign of the man I’d just had a glimpse of.
But he’s nowhere to be seen.
