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“Why?” Dante’s tone is neutral, calm. As if he really is curious.
“I love this place.” The moment it comes out of my mouth, I know just how true it is. “I love my house. I grew up here. I don’t have any desire to leave it. But what you have is so—different.” I don’t know what other word to use for it. “I thought you’d see it and be—I don’t even know what word to use. It’s not the kind of place you should be in. I thought I’d see it through your eyes, and only see everything that’s wrong with it, that needs fixing. I didn’t want to see my home that way.”
Dante is quiet for a long moment. “And did you?”
“Somewhat.” I bite my lip. Ididsee all of those things, when he was first in my space. The fading carpet and chipped counter and the things that needed repairing, how small everything is. “But I still love it. It’s still my home, even if it’s not fancy or luxurious.”
“It feels like—” Dante pauses, as if he’s looking for the right words. “It feels like a home. Cozy. Well-loved.”
I laugh at that, a sound that comes out half-laugh, half-snort. “Well-lovedis one way to put it, I suppose.”
“It feels like you belong here.” Dante’s arms rest on his knees, his fingers interlocking together as he looks out towards the water. “It’s hard to imagine you anywhere else.”
“I don’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want to leave LA.” The last comes out before I realize I’ve said it, and I wish I could bite the words back, realizing what they imply. That I mightneedto leave LA, and all the reasons for it that Dante doesn’t need to know.
And, of course, he’s too perceptive and too damn nosy to leave it alone.
“Why would you need to leave LA?” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as if he dislikes the idea, too. As if he wants me here.
Here with him.
I push the notion out of my head. “If things don’t smooth out with Rico—I won’t be able to get much work here. If I leave the Night Orchid not on good terms, or if he pushes me out—” I shrug, the gesture more casual than I feel about it all. “He’s the most influential tattoo artist in LA. No one else will hire me if he puts out a bad word about me. It could be worse than that—it could extend out to a lot of the bigger cities. Atlanta, Miami. I might have trouble getting work in a lot of places—at least anywhere that compares to what I’m doing here.”
Dante’s jaw tightens. “If he dares—”
“No,” I say it flatly, looking sideways at him. “You can’t go threatening my boss again. You’ve madethathard enough already for me. You’re only making it worse by handling it like this. I don’t need you to handle it for me at all.”
Dante doesn’t say anything in response. I can see him thinking and can practically hear the wheels turning. I’m not sure if I want to know the direction his thoughts are headed in.
“You asked me why I want you,” he says softly, still staring out in the direction of the water. “You’re different from any woman I’ve ever known. You’re—smart, talented, and determined. You’re very unapologetically yourself. And you’re beautiful in a way that’s unexpected.”
I can feel my eyes widen a little. “Is that a compliment?” I manage, and Dante chuckles.
“It is.” He turns towards me, his fingers catching my chin as he moves closer. “You’re right that we’re very different,” he murmurs. “But right now, out here, it doesn’t feel like that matters all that much.”
When he kisses me, it’s different than before. It feels light, and sweet, more romantic than any time he’s touched me before. His fingers ghost over my cheekbone, and it makes me shiver despite the warmth of the night, leaning into the caress.
I’ve tried all this time to tell myself why he’s so wrong for me. Why we’re wrong foreach other. When I remember who he is,whathe is, that still feels true. There’s no future for me with a man who runs a mafia family, who is involved in things I can’t begin to imagine.
But he’s right about one thing. Out here, sitting on the beach in the moonlight, it’s easy to forget that. And with his lips on mine, the only thing I can think is that figuring out the future can come later, just like he said.
All I want is to spend a few more moments enjoying how this feels, right now.
14
DANTE
Imeant it when I told Emma that I’ve never known any other woman like her before. And it’s made it impossible to get her out from under my skin. If anything, the desire for her—to even just be near her—has sunk in even deeper.
When her lips touch mine, sitting there on the beach, I feel something that I’ve never felt before with anyone. A desire not just for pleasure, but for intimacy. As we sit there in the sand, there’s no rush to go further than just kissing. When her lips part and her tongue slides against mine, making me ache as my cock stiffens, I don’t feel the urge to spill her back into the sand and slide inside of her as quickly as I can manage.
Instead, I run my hands over her arms, her waist, up to the soft curves of her breasts beneath the loose t-shirt. I just want to touch her, tolearnher in a way that I’ve never taken the time to learn anyone before. I’ve always run from that sort of intimacy, from letting anyone too close.
I can’t run from it any longer. I don’t think that I want to.
The soft sounds that she makes as I kiss her make me feel as if I’d give just about anything to stay here, with her, like this. I don’t want to leave.
I’m not sure how long we sit there, wrapped up in each other. I pull her into my lap at one point, my hands sliding up underneath that loose t-shirt as she straddles me, hands finding her bare breasts as she gasps and deepens the kiss. But I don’t push it further—and deep down, I think it’s because I don’t want it to be over.
