by Olivia Fox
Seeing her like this brought back a familiar refrain…
I should have been there to prevent it.
Wrapped in a huge towel, she followed me like an obedient pet towards my bedroom and I dressed her in a pair of my sweats and a T-shirt.
This tight spot she was in was a curveball, but hey, we all had our baggage. Hers happened to be bloody. She’d tell me what was going on when she was ready.
The least I could do was take her hand and guide her through the dark. That was a good deed I could afford.
If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was wade through the deep darkness.
From the moment I met her, she came across as the best possible kind of trouble. A good girl who knew exactly when to be bad.
She awakened me from a three-year slumber, and I could hear a warning bell.
Keep away.
Deep sleep was better than loving someone and having them taken from you.
Better not to feel anything than to feel too hard.
I’d never have Savanna’s submission if she wouldn’t give it to me, and she’d been through way too much to entrust herself to me right now.
Telling myself all of that didn’t satisfy the pulsing need to make her body my private pleasure palace.
5
Savanna
“Hey.” The low-pitched voice to my right startled me, and I slapped my back against the headboard.
Sitting straight up in bed, I looked around and had no idea where I was. The room was inky dark, and my chest dragged as I struggled to pull oxygen into my lungs. Waking up in the middle of the night, unable to breathe, had become par for the course since being stalked by Mathew.
Complete disorientation, not so much.
“It’s me. Dante. You’re safe.”
Now how the hell did this macho dude know the exact words I needed to hear?
“What do you say to a midnight snack?” I felt him get off of the mattress and heard him speak from further away. “I’m starving.”
I knew I should say something to explain myself, but I stayed mute as I followed Dante to his kitchen. What I did was horrible and wrong, but I couldn’t help but feel relief, and oddly, there was a chorus singing “Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead” inside my head.
No more looking over my shoulder.
No more running and hiding.
No more worrying he would hurt my friends or family.
Done.
I should feel guilty.
I’d have to figure out how to live with the fact that I was a cold-blooded killer.
I felt safer than I had in a long time at Dante’s side, so I ignored the fact that I just offed someone.
And watched as he bled out on the floor.
Didn’t call for help.
Dante’s broad back rippled as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk and a white cake box. His huge hands sliced a similarly sizable slab, placing it on a plate in front of me.
I wondered if he used a butter knife to cut the cake because he was afraid to wave a kitchen knife in front of me.
I was fine.
Better than I’d felt since this total nightmare with Mathew began.
Sitting on the stool in front of the kitchen island, I held my chin in my hands and looked down at my aunt’s famous, moist dessert.
How did everything get so fucked up? What did I do to deserve this ordeal, and why didn’t I recognize Mathew as a horrible threat from the beginning? I should have seen it coming, right?
“You going to eat some of that?” Dante pointed his own fork at my piece, and even in my fucked-up state his handsome face blew me away. And I was 100% abso-fucking-lutely sure he wouldn’t hurt me.
What was that about?
Trusting any guy was saying something given my track record.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened, Savanna?” He put a hand on my wrist, and I let the warmth from his body seep into mine.
The oversized, distressed steel wall clock had a huge second hand that ticked reliably forward despite how time felt viscous, as if I could float on top of it like a bather in the dead sea.
Drawing in a deep breath, it snagged in my throat like a hangnail on a pair of nylons, “Mathew was a great customer at my pet store.” I rubbed my hands on the legs of the sweatpants I was wearing. “Was. But when I told him I wasn’t interested in dating him, he didn’t accept it.”
I counted thirty ticks of the second hand, watching it jerk from one instant to the next, pulling us incrementally forward into the future whether we liked it or not, as it had done since the day I fled Oakland, and hid out here in Briarville. “Today after work, I was cleaning up as usual after Aunt Teresa went home, and I heard the back door open and shut. I’m usually careful to lock the doors, I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I assumed it was you coming to fix the floor.”
He lifted my chin, so I had to look into his eyes. “Not your fault, babe.” His simple statement calmed me.
“Well, I was chopping chocolate at the counter when he walked in.”
My gaze bounced between the clock and Dante, “He came right up to me and put his... his... hands around my neck. He’s—was—skinny, so I didn’t expect him to be that strong. He kept choking me until there were spots in front of my eyes and I couldn’t breathe. I knew if I didn’t do something, he’d kill me.”
Standing up suddenly, it was like being back in the moment. “There was so much hate in his eyes. Toward me. I’ve never seen anyone express so much hatred in real life and he said, ‘If I can’t have you, no one will.’ I believed him. I reached behind me, grabbed the knife I’d been using and slashed out at him.”
My pacing took me past the refrigerator, and I kept going, circling the island where Dante sat. “I only meant to make him stop choking me. It surprised the hell out of me when there was blood. So much blood.”
“Shh, baby. It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it anymore.” His tone was low and soothing.
I plunked myself on the stool, leaning my head over the counter and rubbing my temples with my eyes closed. “You don’t understand, Dante. I haven’t even told you the worst of it.”
My voice quivered, “I keep waiting to feel like I did something wrong, but I don’t.” Letting out an uncontrollable sob, I wept all over the carrot cake. “He killed Peaches! I hope he rots in hell for that.”
“Who’s Peaches?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
“My Yorkie. My little girl.” I rubbed the heel of my hand back and forth across my chest, trying to scrub out the ache I still felt there. Thinking about finding her tiny, lifeless body murdered by Mathew.
“That’s psycho. He definitely would have done the same to you tonight had you not protected yourself.” Dante sat there, patiently rubbing my back.
Waiting.
In a voice thick with tears I said, “Sorry.”
He leaned forward, and I looked at the second hand again, tick, tick, tick.
Confused by his sudden stillness, I turned back to him.
“You never have to be sorry with me. What you did was self-defense. one hundred percent.”
There was a lump in my throat. “But I cried all over your carrot cake. It’s ruined.” I sobbed out the words.
“Savanna.” There was a sexual haze that clouded his eyes, and it confused me until he made his next move. He took his pointer finger and scraped off a large scoop of the tear-stained, cream cheese frosting.
Watching me intently, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked off the satiny sweet, tangy texture.
It was so wrong.
I was the worst person ever.
But in the wake of slaying my stalker, the raw power of my attraction to this man seated next to me, his body thick with muscle, suddenly blindsided me.
I definitely wasn’t ready for a relationship of any kind, but it had been a long time since a man had given me an orgasm.
That was probably why I turned my back to him once we were in the bedroom
and yanked the T-shirt over my head.
“Think carefully about what you’re doing, Savanna. It’s been forever since I’ve seen a woman naked, especially one with a killer body like yours.”
I cringed.
“Bad choice of words,” he said. “Look at me.”
I turned, letting him see my bare breasts, and hoped the sight of them made him fuck me silly. I wouldn’t blame him if he backed away. Sleeping with me looked like a pretty dangerous proposition right about now.
He approached me, and my nipples hardened, seeking his attention so forcefully they ached. He didn’t lay a finger on me. “The worst thing about that lowlife showing up here is that you and I were headed somewhere real nice. It’s a shame that had to be interrupted. I had other plans for tonight.”
My pussy leaked a silent response.
He dove his hand inside the sweats I still wore.
“Feels like I’m not the only one tired of waiting.” He pulled the sweats to the floor, and smashed my clit beneath his fingers, rolling circles, making me gasp. “Are you having naughty thoughts, Savanna? Is that what makes you so wet?”
“Yes. More, please.”
He stopped, leaving his hand there, so it was all I could do not to chase his fingers with my pelvis.
“You need to get out of the tight spot you’re in and I’ve got an offer for you.” He tapped me once, gently, right between the legs and a delicious shudder shot through me. “You and I can help each other. Stay here with me until things blow over. You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”
What else did he have in mind for clearing the debt I owed him? What payment would he extract for keeping my secret?
Without warning, Dante delivered three slaps, perfectly placed, right over my clit. The stunning move washed all worry, all racing thoughts out of my head.
“I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. You’re staying with me,” he said in a guttural tone that made my belly swoop.
“I guess so.” I blew air past my lips. This was all so unreal, but I couldn’t imagine sleeping alone in my room over the bakery.
I turned around to him and he raised his hands to my breasts, cupping them softly at first as if weighing them in his hands, and then rolling the pebbled tips of my nipples between his fingers.
“You guess so, or you know so?” he warned.
“I know so, okay?” Dying to reach my peak, as yet unfulfilled, I cursed, “Fuck.”
“Not yet,” he answered.
I was ripe beneath the touch of his huge fingers and trembling with need.
“Trust me, Savanna. I want to, more than anything.” He took my wrist in his hand and dragged it downward against his chest.
Would he?
He kept going, over his hard belly, and came to a halt at the place between his thighs.
He yanked me to him, so that his arousal shoved against my belly, and it trapped my hand between us, with his hardness pressing against my palm.
“Fuck.” This time it was him who said it.
“I can’t Savanna, you’ve been through too much. I don’t want us to start this way, no matter how much I need you.”
Every inch of me lit up with the burning, urgent need to possess him. Desire was in the driver’s seat, so I did the only thing I could.
The thing I was getting a little too good at.
I fought dirty.
With much regret, I let my hand fall away from Dante’s hefty erection. He took a step away from me, placing a gentle kiss upon my forehead and said, “You’re too precious to take advantage of when you’re vulnerable like this.”
What did he know? I think I was fully aware of my pussy’s care and feeding regime, and right about now, some hard fucking was in order.
I stripped to my undies, hoping the sight of my bare body would tempt Dante into making a move, but he pulled the covers over his shoulders and spooned me from behind, keeping his pelvis a respectable distance from my bottom.
Whatever.
“Dante, I…” I spoke out in the dark, one last plea with him to service my needs, but he placed a finger over my lips.
“Shh, sleep, Savanna. What you need is rest.”
Again, I was a grown woman who knew exactly what she needed and it sure as hell wasn’t sleep.
I sucked that finger into my mouth and lapped at the tip with my tongue.
“Ah, God, baby. What are you doing?”
“Please, Dante. Make the bad thoughts go away. Do something—anything to me.” I turned around and tucked my head under his chin, his crinkly chest hair felt good against my breasts.
Suddenly the feeling stopped. Dante lowered himself down toward the foot of the mattress and nuzzled the inside of my thigh.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Anything I want, remember?” His words came out in a growl and some primitive, purely feminine part of me relished in his animal appreciation.
His tongue teased me open and his hand slid between my legs.
Silent squeals lodged in my throat while I luxuriated in sensation, and my pelvis arched off the bed as he continued to lick at me with his wide tongue. He did so leisurely, like a male lion grooming his mate, lapping his tongue over my pussy as if he had all day.
But I didn’t.
Faster than seemed possible, I felt my body vibrate.
There was nothing on my mind but chasing my finish.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
I squirmed against the mattress when he worked his strong fingers into me, igniting me. He pulled back a second later , “I have to ask. Are you a virgin?”
“Uh, no. Not quite. Why?”
“Jesus, baby, you’re so tight.” He lowered himself again, and his tongue found my trigger and fired off short little licks and sucks while he stretched me wide and met me thrust for thrust with two fingers, fucking me hard.
The rough motion sent me over the edge so that mini explosions shook my body.
My legs were jelly, and I breathed hard until the liquid pleasure spread over me like a candied glaze.
When he crawled up to me and held me in his arms, at last I found the peace that eluded me up to now.
The peace of being with a man who got off on licking me to orgasm and then fell asleep holding me tight.
If this was what it was like to honor a debt with a Drago, then I was pretty much fucked.
6
Dante
She was in my mouth last night. Right where I wanted her, and I couldn’t get rid of her taste on my tongue. The act played over and over again in my head like a movie scene. Every couple of minutes, I remembered her pussy pulsing under my lips.
An erotic film for sure, one that made porn a shoddy substitute.
Her pussy was all that was good and true—and like the rest of her body, fucking center-fold worthy.
Sweet.
Tangy.
It tasted like seconds, thirds… hell, I couldn’t see ever slaking my hunger for Savanna. Nor did I want to.
The next morning, I tried to scrub the need off my body with a loofa while she slept in.
Maybe the sting on my skin would clear the confusion about how this girl in trouble had walked into my life, pulled me out of my shitty, mopey routine, and tossed it all in the air like a deck of cards.
For the first time in a long while, I felt like I had something to live for.
A fixation of the female variety was a complication I most definitely could handle.
The Old Spice shower gel did nothing to erase her scent from my mind. With the olfactory reminder, I was nestled between her soft thighs again, tasting her honey. She squirmed beneath my attention and suddenly I was all powerful.
I’d make her let me do it again.
She’d asked me to fuck her. Not in so many words, but I got the general idea.
What was it like to be inside that sweet, tasty pussy that clamped down tightly around my fingers when she came?
“I called your aunt, “ I said to Sav
anna later on in the kitchen.
Teresa was up to speed that her niece was at my place for the weekend. I told her Savanna was having a hard time when I arrived to install the flooring last night and I thought it best that she didn’t spend the night alone.
Of course I said nothing about the dead body my cousin removed from her place of business, or that Carlos was there late into the night, making sure the place could pass forensic inspection.
Anyone who didn’t know her would think Savanna was functioning just fine, but I observed the minor differences.
From the day I met her, her laughter flowed in a constant stream, and she moved like a puppy through the world, excited to see what it offered. Nothing could kill her enthusiasm for the most mundane thing: rainbow sprinkles on a chocolate donut, an ugly flowered hat hand made by a customer, or the temperature of a frosty glass of milk she used to wash down a chocolate chip cookie.
Savanna’s energy surged so strongly it was crystal clear after only two encounters with her before the unfortunate incident with a knife.
She needed grounding. The safety of family. Mine was whacked, but they were still kin. “It’s Saturday, my Zio—that’s uncle in Italian—Lorenzo always has family dinner at his place. I go over early and help get ready. You can meet some of my crazy relatives. You look like you could use a laugh or two.”
She nodded listlessly, staring out the window towards the lake. I had a feeling she didn’t even see the water out there.
My uncle, Zio Lorenzo, built like a linebacker, his prize-fighter bulk an extreme contrast to the docile way he treated his “kitten.“ He was underboss to my grandfather, Don Alberto, and one of two remaining sons. Gangsters had killed my father when I was fifteen years old.
I’d forgotten to warn Savanna about Zio’s pet name for his lady friend.
“Kitten, will you pick out a couple bottles of wine to open for our guests?” Zio bent his gigantic form over the stove and stirred the contents of a giant stainless-steel pot, “One sec.“ He addressed me. “ It’s time to add the oregano or this sauce will go to shit.”
The sound of his huge wooden spoon scraping over the metal pan lulled the room for a moment. “You know how it is. Timing is everything.”