by Kate Hunt
I have a terrible time sleeping that night. I can’t stop thinking about Dante. When I walked out of the bathroom and saw him standing there, I knew we were in trouble. And when he told me that I was too tempting for him…well, that sealed the deal. I knew we were going to kiss in that bedroom. There was no way to avoid it.
And I didn’t want to stop at kissing. But then Dante put an end to it.
I completely get why it seems like a bad idea. The business partner thing, the age thing. But it’s not like my dad has to find out. And I don’t care that he’s fifteen years older than me. It’s just a number. Big deal.
If those are dealbreakers for him, though…I guess there’s not much I can do about it. It’s not like I can force it. And I wouldn’t want to force it, even if I could. If I’m going to be with a man, I want him to want to be with me.
I can’t get Dante out of my head, though. He’s in my head all night, and he’s still in my head in the morning. He’s there as I eat breakfast with my parents, and he’s there as we finally watch those scary movies together.
In the afternoon, I tell my parents I’m going out for a jog. Hopefully, the physical exertion will help me shake Dante from my thoughts. I dig out an old t-shirt and leggings from the clothes in my old bedroom, pull my hair up into a tight ponytail, and head out the front door.
It’s nice and crisp out today. The cool air feels great in my lungs. And it does seem like running is helping me clear my mind. I’m totally focused on my feet hitting the pavement and my breathing and the beauty of the autumn day.
Actually, I’m so focused on those things that I don’t even realize how far I’m jogging.
Or where I’ve taken myself to.
Because all of a sudden, as I’m stopping to catch my breath, I realize that I’ve jogged all the way to Dante’s neighborhood.
“Shit,” I pant. I can see his house a little further up the block. I look around, panicking that he’s somewhere around here. Am I really panicking, though? Or am I actually hoping to see him?
“Angel?”
I spin around and am slammed with mixed emotions as I see Dante approach.
He’s just as hot as he was last night, although his bare chest isn’t exposed this time. Now, he’s in a sweatshirt and pants. And instead of holding a pipe, he’s holding a dog leash.
“Hi,” I say. “I…um…I was just out on a jog.”
“I can see that,” he says. As he comes closer, the dog he’s walking—a really cute mutt—strains against the leash to sniff my hand. I stroke his soft head.
“Hi there,” I say to the dog. “What’s your name?”
“This is Shep,” says Dante. “He’s not actually mine. I’m just dog-sitting.”
“We’ll, he’s cute.”
Dante doesn’t say anything. I straighten up.
“You can’t do this, Angel,” Dante says.
“I didn’t come here on purpose. It was an accident. I swear.”
He studies me for a second, then nods. “Well, try not to make the same mistake again.”
“I won’t.”
I expect him to walk away then. But he doesn’t. We just keep standing there, looking at each other.
Finally, running a hand through his hair, Dante says, “Fuck. This is ridiculous.”
Um…is he waiting for me to leave? I look at him questioningly. He shakes his head in frustration.
“Let’s just get it out of our systems,” he says.
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Angel. You’re driving me absolutely crazy.”
My chest warms. “I’ve been thinking about you constantly, too.”
“Let’s stop imagining what it would be like, then.”
“But what about my dad? And—”
“Don’t talk about your dad,” grunts Dante. “He’ll never find out about this. Okay? We’re going to fuck one time. We’re going to get it out of our systems. And then we’ll both move on with our lives.”
My heart starts beating like crazy. “When? Right now?”
“Yes. Right now.”
“In your house?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Unless you have someplace else in mind?”
“No. Um. Your house is good.” I look down at the sweat stain on my shirt, then back up at him. “I’m really gross right now, though.”
“First of all,” says Dante, taking another step closer to me. “You’re not gross. It’s sexy, seeing you like that. But if you want to shower, you’re more than welcome to do that first. I’ll even join you, if you want.”
I swallow. I’m all kinds of tingly now.
“What about the dog?” I ask.
“What about him?”
“Aren’t you…busy walking him?”
“Look, if you don’t want to do this, just say so.”
“No, I just…” I don’t know what exactly to say. The truth is, I’m nervous as hell now that I actually have the opportunity to sleep with Dante. Not because of the whole business thing, or the age thing…it’s because of my lack of experience. I’ve had sex before, but only a couple times. I have no idea what I’m doing. And someone like Dante…yeah, it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce that he knows exactly how to pleasure someone.
“Talk to me, Angel,” he says.
I gaze up into those gorgeous eyes of his.
“I want to,” I say. “But I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.”
He shakes his head. “Trust me. You won’t.”
“I’ve only had sex a couple times.”
“Doesn’t make a difference,” he says.
I press my lips together. “Are you sure?”
“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” he says. “But did you come? Those other times?”
I blush. “No. Not even close.”
He nods. Then he says, with a low voice, “Then let me show you how it’s done.”
Chapter Four
Dante
I kiss Angel the moment we step into my house. I can’t resist her any longer. And she kisses me back, running her hands through my hair. Her kisses are salty and sweet. Oh, God, I want her so much. I want to take her right here and now, up against the door.
But she pulls back and smiles at me. “About that shower...”
“Right,” I say. “Am I invited?”
“Um…” She bites her lip. “As nice as that sounds…I think I’ll be more comfortable if you meet me afterward in bed.”
“That also sounds perfect,” I say. I’m all about shower sex, but if she’s not, I’m not going to push. “Hold on. I’ll grab you a towel.”
I pull out the plushest one I can find in my linen closet and tell her she’s welcome to use my en suite bathroom—and to holler if she needs anything else. She smiles and heads upstairs. The shower water starts running a few seconds later. And of course I can’t help but think of her up there, the water cascading over her naked body, her lathered hands rubbing suds up and down her curves…
Shit. This plan is probably going to backfire. But fuck it.
I look down at Shep, the dog, who’s standing there looking back at me. I shake my head.
“What is it about this woman, huh, Shep?” I say.
He wags his tail. I laugh. He follows me as I go into the kitchen and grab a treat for him—something that he can gnaw on for a long while and keep occupied with.
Then I head upstairs and walk into my bedroom. The shower’s still running. I take a seat on the edge of my bed and wait for Angel to finish.
When the bathroom door opens, a cloud of steam floats up and dissipates. And then Angel steps out, wrapped in the towel I gave her. Her hair is dry—pulled up in a top knot now, out of the way—and her body is pink and glowing from the heat.
“Hi,” she says, smiling as she slowly walks over to me.
“Hi, beautiful,” I say.
“Thanks for letting me do that.”
“Is there anything else
you want to do first?”
She slows to a stop right in front of where I’m sitting on the bed. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, the corner of my mouth lifting. “We could watch some TV…have a snack…”
“Or you could just fuck me,” she says.
“Or I could do that.”
Angel’s eyes shimmer. Then she pulls out the end of her towel from where it’s tucked into the other side and lets it fall to the floor.
Jesus. She’s stunning. I knew she was going to be, but…wow. Her large, perky tits, the soft curve of her belly, the little thatch of hair above her pussy, her luscious thighs…I pull my eyes up and focus on hers.
“You’re gorgeous, Angel.”
“And right now, I’m all yours.”
I stand up, towering over her, and tell her to sit down on the edge of the bed. She does as I say. Her eyes move to my crotch—to the big bulge there—but that’s not what I want her to do.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her.
She parts her knees.
“Wider,” I say.
She spreads them open further, as far as she can. I kneel down in front of her and smile. She watches me with desire in her eyes as I lower my mouth down to her folds. And when I lick her for the first time, she shudders with pleasure, letting out a gasp as she does.
I lick her again, running my tongue up and down her clit. And then again and again. She tastes clean but also sweetly feminine, and it’s a taste I can’t get enough of. Chasing after her moans, I run my tongue up and down faster. Soon, she’s swollen and soaking wet.
“It’s so good, Dante,” she groans. “Oh, God. I can’t—even—describe—”
I insert a finger into her and she cries out. I keep licking her as I pump in and out of her. She writhes and moans and gyrates her hips. Soon, she’s gasping for breath. And when she comes, she comes hard and fast, trembling like mad against my mouth.
I slide my finger out of her but I keep kissing her as she comes down. When I hear a final sigh, I stand up between her legs. Angel lays back on the bed and watches me in a blissful daze as I take off my clothes.
“Do I get to taste you now?” she asks.
“If that’s what you want,” I say.
“What do you want, Dante?”
“I want to make you come again.”
She grins. “Then get over here and fuck me.”
I grab a condom from my bedside table and roll it on. I’m rock hard, standing at full attention. Angel eyes my cock as I walk back over to the bed. Her expression is full of anticipation.
She scoots back on the bedsheets and I lower myself onto the bed. Her legs are already spread for me and I move in between them. I don’t enter her yet, though. First, I kiss her on the mouth—a long, deep, sensual kiss. Then I bend down and suck on her nipples, making her moan for me again.
“Dante,” she groans. “Please. I need you.”
I need her, too. I kiss her mouth again and reach down and align my cock with her slit, then ease myself in. She’s so wet that I can thrust all the way into her tight pussy on the first push. She gasps and wraps her legs around me. I plunge into her again.
“Yes,” she moans. “Just like that.”
I don’t have to fuck her for very long before she’s coming again. God, I love feeling her erupt like that beneath me. I love feeling her lose control. When she catches her breath, she laughs and kisses me. I’m still inside of her, but I’ve slowed my thrusting.
“I don’t know how you do it,” she says. “But you make me come harder than I ever have in my life. And I’ve made myself come a lot.”
I laugh. Then I give her a meaningful look. “You ready for number three?”
“Um…yes? How many times are you going to make me come?”
“As many times as I can,” I say, and hook my hands under her thighs. I pull her legs up and adjust myself so that I’m kneeling in front of her now. Then I draw her up into my lap. I grip her calves and hold her legs spread open wide as I push into her again. She’s on full display in front of me now, and the view is such a fucking turn-on.
Angel closes her eyes and moans. As I drive into her, her hands drift up and rest on my abs. And as I pick up the pace, thrusting into her faster and harder, her tits shake and sway, and her fingers dig into my skin.
“Oh!” she cries. “Oh, God!”
“Angel,” I groan, feeling an orgasm build. I want to make her come again first, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold out this time.
As Angel’s breathing goes ragged, she opens her eyes and our gazes meet. And there’s something different in the way she looks at me this time. It’s not just a look of lust. It’s…something more, I think. It’s almost like a look of love.
“I’m going to come again,” she says, her voice high and desperate. I nod and gasp for breath. I’m too close to form any words.
Well, except for one.
“Fuck,” I grunt, and buck against her. She cries out and shudders against me, too. We’re both breathing so hard that it feels like we’re going to suck all the oxygen out of the room.
“Oh my God,” she says. We’re still looking at each other. “That was…that was…”
I dip my head down to hers and claim her mouth with mine. It’s a kiss unlike all the rest. It means something more this time.
When it’s over, I look her in the eyes again and say, “I need you, Angel. Not just for today.”
Angel looks like she might cry. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to be with you. I want to make this work.”
“But how?”
“I don’t know. I just know that I want to be with you.”
A tear escapes from the corner of her eye. I wipe it away. She smiles and nods.
“Okay,” she says. “I don’t know how it’s going to work either. But I want to be with you, too.”
Chapter Five
Angel
We agree to keep our relationship a secret from my parents. It’s just easier that way. And when Dante enters my number into his phone, he types in my name as Sweet Lips, just in case my dad gets a glimpse of Dante’s screen when they’re working.
“Please tell me there’s not a bunch of other contacts in your phone with nicknames,” I tease.
“You’re the first and only,” he says, and then tosses his phone into my lap. “Go ahead. Scroll through them.”
“I was just teasing,” I say. “I trust you.”
But as I hand back his phone, the screen automatically flashes on and I realize how long I’ve been gone.
“Shit,” I say, scrambling up to get dressed. “My parents are going to think I got hit by a car or something.”
“You might want to take another quick shower. Otherwise you’re going to walk into their house reeking of sex.”
“Right,” I say, stopping what I’m doing to pull my clothes back off. “Good thinking.”
But on my way into the bathroom, I stop and look over my shoulder at Dante.
“If you make it quick, you can join me,” I say.
He gets off the bed as fast as lightning.
We have a quickie in the shower—a crazy-hot quickie—and then I rinse off and hurry to get dressed. Before I run out the door, I give Dante a kiss and promise that I’ll text him later. Then I’m out on the sidewalk, practically sprinting back home. I didn’t bring my phone with me—it’s a pain to carry when I go running—so all I can do is hope that my parents aren’t freaking out about how long I’ve been gone.
Thankfully, when I get back to the house, my parents aren’t alarmed as I worried they might be. I can tell they were both concerned about me, though. I apologize multiple times for losing track of time and promise that I won’t do it again.
My mom nods. “I can’t believe you were jogging that whole time, Angel. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow, you poor thing.”
I laugh and shrug. Images of Dante fucking me flash through my head, and I c
an feel my cheeks go hot. “I didn’t actually jog the whole time. I was…just walking and stuff, too. It’s so beautiful out.”
“It really is. Maybe we should have dinner out in the yard tonight. You don’t need to leave until after dinner, right?”
I nod. “Yep. I can stay until then.”
“Good,” says my mom, and reaches out and gives my hand a squeeze.
I feel guilty already about keeping my relationship with Dante a secret. During dinner that night, part of me wants to just blurt it out. But I keep it locked inside. And I try to keep my mind off of Dante for the rest of the time I’m with my parents that night—even though it’s impossible to do.
That night, after I make the two-hour drive back home and walk into my apartment, I send Dante a quick text to let him know that I miss him already.
He texts me back right away, telling me he misses me too.
I’m pretty swamped with schoolwork that week. But Dante and I continue to text, sending each other flirty messages throughout the day. One night, things even get a little extra steamy, and we end up sending each other dirty pics—and the moment he sends me a photo of his hard-on, I feel weak in the knees. Thankfully, I’m already in bed when his photo comes through.
As the next weekend nears, Dante asks if he can drive down and see me. I’m so excited about visiting that I type back: YEW! Then, laughing at myself, I type: I meant YES! I would love that.
He shows up at my apartment building late on Friday evening holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. I give him a long, eager kiss, and bring him up to my floor.
“Before you come in,” I tell him as I unlock my door, “I want you to have very low expectations about my apartment. Okay?”
“I know what college apartments are like, you know,” Dante says. “It wasn’t that long ago that I was in college, too.”
Still, I’m a little nervous letting Dante into my apartment. Compared to his house, it’s so…small. And kind of sad looking. But it genuinely doesn’t seem to faze Dante as he walks in and looks around.
“It’s really cozy,” he says, and grins and gives me a kiss.