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I force myself to focus on the rest of the tattoo. “That cut stopped just short of slicing into it.” I point at the knife slash on his side, held together with the butterfly tape I used last night. I don’t touch him this time. I know neither one of us can take it.
“You should get dressed.” I take a step back, feeling my throat tighten.How is this possible? How is it that we affect each other this much?
Dante hesitates for just a moment, just long enough for me to know what he’s thinking. But he nods, disappearing down the hall to my small bathroom.
The moment he’s out of sight, I drop onto the couch, letting out a long breath. There are at least four sessions left on his tattoo, and I don’t know how we’re going to get through all of them without falling into bed again.
I don’t know how I’m going to feel at the end of this, when I’m finished working on him, and weneedto never see each other again.
When Dante walks out, once more dressed in the jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie that make him look far more normal than he actually is, I hold out his car keys to him. There’s a rip in the side of the hoodie—the shirt, too—from the knife that gouged him, and I try not to look at it. If it hadn’t had to go through two layers of fabric, who knows how much worse that cut would have been.
“Your car is parked on the street. I’m sorry, I knew you’d hate that, but I don’t exactly have access to a garage. Hopefully, it was left alone. If not—” I don’t know what to say about that. I don’t have the kind of money to offer to pay for repairs, if someone tried to break into Dante’s pristine Camaro. It definitely was too nice of a car to be left alone on this street. But I didn’t have any choice.
“Don’t even say it.” Dante shakes his head firmly. “You might have saved my life, Emma. I’m not worried about the car.” He takes a step towards me as he says it, his voice warming as he does, and I feel a shiver ripple down my spine as he looks down at me. There’s heat in his eyes, but it’s not just lust. There’s something else, too, and it knots my stomach with a strange kind of fear.
No one has ever looked at me like that. And Dante Campano shouldn’t be.
I swallow hard. “Right. Um—well, if you—when you’re ready to get those lines touched up…we shouldn’t wait too long—” I’m stammering, and I hate myself for it. But I truly don’t know what to say to him.Text me when you’re ready to set up your next appointmentsomehow doesn’t feel right when I had my hand around this man’s cock an hour and a half ago.
Dante looks at me with obvious confusion. “Am I not taking you back to your car?”
My eyes go wide. “Oh.I—” The last thing I need is to spend even the next twenty minutes in a car with this man. Especially not the kind of car that would make any woman with half an interest in Americana muscle soaking wet. “I can walk,” I manage. “You need to get back before your security loses their minds.”
Dante chuckles. “I called them. The head of my team is pretty pissed, but I’ll iron things out when I get back. I’ll give you a ride to your car.” His gaze hardens slightly. “I don’t like the idea of you just walking around on your own.”
“I thought you said I was safe.” That queasy feeling returns to my stomach.
“From those goons? You are. I mean in general.” Dante steps a little closer, his fingers grazing the edge of my jaw, and my knees nearly turn to water at the touch. “If you were mine, Emma, you’d be driven everywhere you want to go. I’d make sure you were always watched. You’d never have to walk anywhere on your own, be in the slightest bit of danger.”
And just like that, the spell is broken.
“That’s why I’m not. Yours, I mean.” The words come out before I can stop them, sharper than I mean for them to sound. He meant it as an enticement, as a romantic gesture that he would make for a woman he consideredhis—but all it does is make me pull away, my stomach twisting with something almost like panic. “Ilikewalking where I want to go. I like being on my own. And I definitely don’t want anyone watching me.”
It’s a much-needed reminder of how different we are—and how impossible it would ever be for me to actually be with someone like Dante. I could never handle the rules and conditions of being with him. I could never handle the surveillance and constant protocols. And as sexy as it might sound in certain contexts, I’m never going to be with someone who refers to me ashis.
The look that crosses Dante’s face tells me he understands. He takes a deep breath, stepping back, his hand falling to his side. I try not to think about how much I immediately miss his touch.
“I understand,” he says quietly. “But at least let me give you that ride today. As thanks.”
I should tell him no. But I can see that it means something to him to do that. So I nod, quickly, wrapping my arms around myself like a shield.
“Alright.”
12
DANTE
It feels almost impossible to keep my hands off of Emma as we go out to my car.
I thought a night with her would do something to ease the lust I felt. I’ve always found that once the mystery of a new woman is uncovered, once I’ve seen what there is on offer, there’s just the question of whether I want to explore further or not. That initial rush of need is always sated, the curiosity gone.
But with Emma, one night just made it worse. I’d already desired her more than I have with anyone before—concerning and confusing in and of itself—but fucking her just made me feel even more ravenous to have her again.
Ravenous—and jealous—enough to make the stupidest decision I think I’ve ever made.
I paid for it in spades. I can feel the toll in every movement as we walk down the three flights of stairs out to the street. My body feels as if it’s bruised from the inside out—and it is, most likely. Every breath burns, and I know I’ve got cracked ribs. I’m going to have to rest—and it’s going to be a little time before I can tolerate the feeling of a tattoo needle again. Which means not seeing Emma for a couple of weeks, probably.
That’s for the best.I tell myself that as we walk out onto the street, Emma leads me in the direction of where she parked my Camaro, but it’s hard to make myself believe it. I haven’t even left yet, and I already want to see her again.
