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He walks towards me, standing only inches from me as his fingers brush against my neck. He takes in the painting in front of me. “It looks beautiful to me.”
“What does?”
I glance at him for a moment furrowing my brow as he points. “The painting.”
“You would say that,” I laugh. “It’s not finished yet. A few more days and I think I’ll have it down. I just need a break from it.”
“Is that right?” he whispers against my ear as he places one hand on my hip. “I think I know a few more things we can do tonight that will take your mind off this painting.”
“Maybe I need to be convinced…sir.”
He chuckles, the sound of his deep hearty voice vibrating against my back as his hand once again comes down around my throat. “I don’t think you need much convincing.”
He lifts me quickly, tossing me over his shoulder as laughter escapes me. He carries me out of the room, down the hallway, and towards the stairs. I know where he is taking me, and the thought of playing in his playroom once more excites me just as much as it did seeing him hovering over me, watching me play with myself.
“I need a shower!” I squeal at him, letting him manhandle me however he pleases.
He doesn’t reply, just continues to carry me up the stairs and into his playroom. Instead of throwing me on the bed, he carries me to a door, opening it to reveal an ensuite bathroom with the largest marble shower I have ever seen.
He sets me on my feet and walks towards the shower. He doesn’t say a single word, moving as if the actions he is taking are second nature.
Something deep inside me stirs with unease, unsure if it’s a good thing or not.
But honestly, if this is how staying here is going to be, who am I to complain?
In the back of my mind, though, is what he said more than once.
I don’t do commitment.
Chapter Twenty-Five
KYLIE
Iwake up wrapped in strong, warm arms. At first, I think I’m still dreaming because surely I’m not actually sleeping in Dante’s arms. Heat from his body envelopes me and I open my eyes, blinking at the sight of a thick, broad naked chest.
Holy hell, I’m not dreaming. Last night really did happen. It wasn’t just another fantasy. I’m not sure how to feel about that. My body is happy while my head and heart remind me of just who I’m with and why I should guard my heart with everything I have.
But I’m afraid it’s too late. My heart is already invested, even more so than my body. I think it always was.
He looks so peaceful in sleep. With his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open, he reminds me of the boy I used to know. None of that brooding and intense skepticism shows on his face now.
But I’m hesitant to give in to my feelings.
He always left the previous times. His statement about him not doing commitment had been loud and clear in the past… but now this? What made him stay?
I expected to wake this morning to find him gone, and yet… here he is.
Before I came to New York, Knox did tell me that Dante has the capacity to love, he just won’t allow it. Their mother, leaving as she did, had really done a number on Dante. I can’t believe a mother, someone who is supposed to love her children with everything in her, would choose to hurt her children so much. Thankfully, Knox isn’t as traumatized since he was so young at the time.
But Dante had been old enough to know what was happening.
With a quiet sigh, I carefully remove myself from his arms and slide from bed. Last night was incredible. I’d done things with Dante I’d never expected. Fantasized about, sure, but I never thought I’d find someone I felt comfortable enough to try those things with.
Every part of me wants to give in to how I feel, but I don’t know if I can. Instead, I head downstairs to my room to shower and change my clothes. The urge to do something normal is important to me because, honestly, normal is all I have right now.
A knock at the door catches my attention the moment I step out into the kitchen to grab a coffee. My eyes shift towards the stairs, my teeth biting at my bottom lip as I let out a sigh and decide to open it. Right now, I don’t want Dante to wake up. I need more time to think before I can face him.
The moment I open the door a messenger in a blue suit smiles at me and hands me a large tube of presumably papers or blueprints. I frown, looking at them as he shoves a clipboard and pen at me to sign for them.
