Leaning heavily on me, he began to walk, and I struggled to keep us both upright, as we headed to his bedroom. I tried to sneak a peek around me at his home, but it was hard, since it was taking all my concentration, to help keep Dante on his feet.
We finally walked into a room which was obviously his bedroom. The bed with the tangled looking sheets on it; was proof of that. It was a quite masculine looking room. Three walls were painted, a kind of pale brown or tan colour, but the fourth wall, the feature wall, behind the bed, was a deep chocolate brown.
The two large, floor to ceiling windows, were covered in cream curtains, with brown drapes over them. The carpet was a beige colour, but it was the bed, I had trouble looking away from.
It was huge, a massive four poster bed, with very heavy, solid looking posts. It had to be a king size, it was that big. It looked like it needed a change of bedding, but one look at Dante and I wasn’t so sure, he’d be able to stay upright long enough, for me to change the bed for him.
The best I could do, was help him back to bed; pull the sheets and quilt over him, before tucking him in. I could see him shivering despite the fact he was sweating and knew he must have a fever.
“Dante, have you taken anything to break your fever?” I asked him, keeping my voice soft and gentle, in case he was in pain.
“No, I’m ok. I’ll be fine.” He mumbled; his eyes closed as if the light hurt them.
I jumped up, and switched the overhead light out, turning on one of the bedside lamps, instead.
“You’re not fine, you’re sick. How long have you been like this?”
“Not long, since…since…yes…yesterday.” He rolled his head in my direction, but still didn’t open his eyes.
“You need to take something. Do you have a thermometer? I need to take your temperature.”
“Bath…bathroom.” He murmured.
I hurried into the en-suite bathroom, skidding to a halt when I saw it. It was huge, like his bedroom. He was a big man though so he’d need a lot of space.
The bathroom had a large spa bath in one corner that looked like it could hold four or five people in it. The walls were tiled in tiny dark brown tiles. The floor tiles were a lighter shade of brown but all the fittings were white, like the spa and vanities. It had two of them, his and hers. The mirror over the vanities wasn’t just a mirror, it was a medicine cabinet and I opened it to look for anything I could give Dante to help him.
I found the thermometer, and a packet of Aspirin. They were a relief to see as they’d help break his fever. I just had to get them in him first.
I poured him a glass of water, from the glass near the electric toothbrush, and armed with it, two Aspirin, and the thermometer, I headed back to him.
At first I thought he’d fallen asleep, but when I touched his forehead, he groaned, and seemed to turn into my hand.
“Dante, I have some Aspirin, I need you to take them for me. Can you sit up a bit?”
The best he seemed to be able to do was lift, his head, so I wrapped an arm around him, to hold him, and told him to open his mouth. Once I got the pills into him, I prompted him to take a mouthful of water. When I heard his noisy swallow, I was relieved. Hopefully they would help him.
Somehow I got him to take the thermometer into his mouth, and when it finally beeped to indicate it was done, I was alarmed at how high his temperature was.
“Dante, you should see a doctor.” I told him, but he surprised me, by shaking his head, and throwing one arm wildly in rejection of my suggestion.
“No, no doctor. I’ll be alright.” He fell silent, but I could see, just the effort it took for him to speak to me, had him almost out of breath. “I’m cold.” He announced suddenly, sounding like a petulant child.
He was still shivering despite his clammy skin. I had to find blankets to add to the bed, to warm him up. There was a large wooden chest at the foot of it, and I prayed it was a blanket box. When I lifted the lid, I could see several blankets inside, so I pulled out a couple and began to arrange them over Dante.
Once that was done, I knew I’d have to go on a bit of a snoop. I had no idea how long I was going to be in his house, but one thing was for sure, I couldn’t leave him alone as he was now.
I glanced at the bedside clock, and was surprised to see it was already, after midnight. That might explain why I was starting to feel tired. The wine, then finding him like this, had me feeling exhausted all of a sudden.
I left Dante alone and began to wander through his house. It was a beautiful home, and he was a neat freak too, going by the look of the place. There was nothing lying around, and even in the kitchen, no dirty dishes cluttered up the sink. He did have a dishwasher though, so he really had no excuse, for collecting dirty dishes.
I hunted for a glass and poured myself some water, before exploring a little more. The house was tastefully decorated, but there weren’t a lot of personal things, that usually made a house, a home.
I found photos of people that I could only guess, were family or friends, but that was about it.
I made use of one of the other bathrooms I found, before heading back to see how Dante was. He was tossing and turning, his hair soaked with sweat. He’d kicked the blankets off, and the sheet that still covered him, was only just doing the job.
It was wrong to ogle the man while he was sick, but damn he was living art. His body was perfection, and I was so tempted to touch him, but I couldn’t. Not only was he sick, but he might not like me touching him. We hadn’t talked, nothing had been resolved, and even if we had talked, he still might not want anything to do with me.
I yawned, ready to sleep myself now, but I was going to have to find something of Dante’s to wear. I couldn’t sleep in the dress I was wearing.
I headed into a long walk in robe and began to rummage. I finally found a t-shirt which smelled faintly of him, so I stripped out of my dress and pulled it on.
I hung up my clothes, since I’d need them again, when I finally went home. I was just about to walk out of the robe, when an article of clothing caught my eye. I reached up for it, pulling it down, and saw that it was a t-shirt, but although not as long as the one I was wearing, it was much wider. It was huge in fact, and I briefly wondered who owned it. It was too big for Dante, despite him being a tall, wall of muscle. I stared at it curiously, before carefully folding it up, and placing it back on the shelf, where I’d found it.
“Cara.” The broken cry sent me rushing from the walk in robe, to Dante’s bedside. He was thrashing around violently. Sweat ran off his skin in rivulets, and soaked into the sheets. I managed to get a hand onto his forehead, and noticed he felt a bit cooler, so the Aspirin were working, but he was drenched, as they worked on fighting, whatever was wrong with him. “Cara, don’t leave.” His cry drew my eyes to his again, but his were still closed.
I reached for him, touching his face, but he took me by surprise when a hand shot up, latching onto my arm. Before I could do anything, he’d dragged me down on top of him. I managed to roll off him, but he flipped over, and wrapped himself around me, effectively keeping me pinned to him.
I wasn’t too sure what to make of that. He was still asleep, I could tell, and being in his arms, didn’t entirely suck, despite how sweaty he was, but a part of me still thought, I should move away. If he woke in the morning, and was well again, he might wonder what the hell I was doing.
Still, I was tired, it was nice to be held, and I could always get out of the bed, before he woke anyway. Satisfied with my internal debate, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
I was hot, no, I was more than hot; I was burning up. I felt like I was in a furnace unable to escape the relentless, all-encompassing heat.
I tried to roll over but couldn’t move, so not only was I on fire, I was being restrained, forced to endure this terrible heat.
With a gasp, I woke, momentarily disorientated. I tried to sit up to see what the time was but I still couldn’t move. It was only when my foggy, sleep br
ain began to clear, that it registered with me, I was in Dante’s bed.
The reason I couldn’t move, was because he still had me tightly wrapped in his arms, and the unrelenting heat that surrounded me, was him. He was burning up again.
I managed to prise one arm out from under him, and rested the back of my hand on his forehead. God, he was so hot. He needed more Aspirin. Of course to give it to him, I needed to get up, and given how firmly he was holding me, that might be challenging.
I shifted my hands to his chest, and started to push. Holy hell, the man was nothing but solid muscle. His skin was so smooth, but so damned hot too. As my fingers spread over his pectoral muscles, I had to mentally lecture myself, about doing what my instincts were screaming at me to do. I itched to run my hands over him. Explore every single bulge and ridge of his stunning body. Of course the more I thought of it, the more, I knew I should slap myself.
“He’s sick you fool.” I whispered to myself, and that was my wake up call, to stop fondling the man’s muscles, and get up to medicate him again.
It felt like it took forever, slowly, inch by inch, extracting myself from Dante’s arms. He shifted restlessly, and I worried he’d wrap me up, so I couldn’t move again, but he didn’t. Finally I was able to shimmy off the bed and get to my feet.
I hurried into his en-suite to use the bathroom quickly, and cringed when I saw myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my makeup, which I hadn’t washed off the night before, had smeared around my eyes, and I looked like, an inebriated raccoon that hadn’t bathed in a week. Even my mouth felt a little furry.
I grabbed some tissues and wiped away the black circles from around my eyes, found a hair brush and detangled the nest on my head, and hunted for a spare toothbrush. I couldn’t find one and finally did something I wouldn’t normally do, I used Dante’s.
Once I was done, and feeling decidedly better than I’d felt moments earlier, I filled the glass for Dante again, popped out two more tablets for him, and walked back into his bedroom.
He was on his side, the bedding a tangled mess over his hips. I wished he would come out of this soon. He needed to shower, and the bedding was due for a change since he’d been sweating into it for who knows how long.
“Dante.” I shook him gently. “I need you to take these.” I gave him another gentle shake.
He mumbled something under his breath, and opened his eyes, but I could see he was unfocused, his stare glassy. Still, despite that, I was able to encourage him to open his mouth, and with a bit of coaxing, he swallowed the tablets, before collapsing back on the bed, totally exhausted.
I returned the glass to the bathroom before going back to Dante. He looked surprisingly vulnerable for such a huge man, and unable to stop myself, I reached out, and brushed his sweat dampened hair, back from his forehead.
He turned into my touch as he’d done last night, and began to mumble in his sleep. I had no idea what he was saying as it seemed to be in Italian, but I did pick up the word, ‘cara’ a couple of times and even my name.
God I wished I could understand him. I was also dying of curiosity, as to why he seemed so drawn to me. It really did seem that he knew me far better than I knew him, but how? We’d never spoken; I’d remember someone like him.
I dropped to my knees by the bed, and gently brushed my fingertips from side to side over his forehead. This close to him, I could see all those little things, I’d missed that night, when he and Alex had come to fulfil my fantasy.
For starters, he had incredibly long lashes. They were long, thick and black. With his eyes closed, they fanned out and rested high on his cheeks.
He had a perfect shaped nose; straight, no ridges, no bumps, just, perfect. My gaze shifted to his lips and I had to bite one of mine to suppress a moan. God, they were perfect, if the word could be used to describe lips. The top one was a beautiful shape and the bottom one was full, kissable, biteable; just perfect. It seemed I was finding everything about this man to be perfect.
Chapter Eleven
When Dante suddenly rolled over onto his back, and those perfect lips parted, I froze, wondering if he was about to wake and catch me kneeling by his bed. He didn’t fortunately, and I released the breath I hadn’t been aware, I was holding.
He suddenly thrashed violently, and I fell back on my heels, to avoid being hit by his flailing arms and legs. He settled again fairly quickly, but the sheet, that had been hanging on, by a wing and a prayer, was no longer covering him, and I could see everything.
I’m sure my bottom jaw hit the carpet as I stared at him. I’d seen him naked of course. I’d seen him fully erect too, obviously, but seeing him flaccid, and still THAT big took me by surprise.
Was there nothing on this man that was small?
I took advantage of him being out of it, and me being nice and close, to study the piercing. Seeing it this close, made me wince slightly at the sight of it. It must have hurt like a mother fucker, getting it done. He had a fairly large metal bar straight through the head of his dick, with a ball, at each end. One was on the top and one on the underside of him.
I’m sure he would have known what the sexual benefits were going to be, before he got the piercing done, because I couldn’t see any way, he’d have put himself through that kind of pain, if he wasn’t going to gain something from it.
I reached out, I knew it was wrong, I shouldn’t be touching him. It felt almost like I was taking advantage of him, but I couldn’t help myself.
I placed a fingertip just below one of his nipples, and began to move it south, watching as it rose and fell over each muscle of his abdominals. I even traced over his classic ‘V’ before stopping just above his cock.
Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I tentatively dragged a fingernail down it, and over one of the metal balls. Unable to control my wayward finger, I worked my way back up his cock and this time on the return, I even dipped into that little hole on the tip of the head.
Although he didn’t show any really obvious reaction to my touch, I was surprised when I saw some slight stirring of his dick. Seeing it lengthening slightly, I panicked, snatching my hand away. What the fuck was I doing? The man was sick. Why would I try and arouse him while he was ill? It’s not like he was going to jump up, throw me on the bed, and have his way with me. ‘You wish.’ That little voice inside me mocked.
I dragged myself off the floor, and wondered what the hell I was going to do. I couldn’t leave Dante alone, but I needed to call Mel and tell her what happened. A part of me was curious to find out how her evening had gone too. Had Alex stayed the night with her, and if he did, did he blow her socks off her feet like he’d done to me?
A glance at the clock, showed it was only eight o’clock. I wouldn’t ring her yet. If Alex had stayed with her, she’d more than likely still be sleeping.
I could get myself some breakfast and then think about calling her. That’s if Dante had anything in the house to eat.
After gently pulling the sheet over him again, so I wouldn’t be distracted by that body of his, which only made me feel like some kind of pervert for ogling a sick man, I left the room, and headed for the kitchen.
After going through all his cupboards, I found some cereal and milk that wasn’t dying in the fridge. Most men I knew seemed to like to have a carton of milk, sitting in the fridge that was always past its use by date.
While I ate, I continued to snoop. They say you can learn a lot about a person, by the food they have in their fridge and cupboards. Well, I wasn’t sure what to make of Dante’s. There were a lot of protein shakes, and I’m talking A LOT. There were a lot of eggs too, so the man obviously loved his eggs.
The freezer had a few steaks in it, and fish but not much else. The fridge had a lot of fruit, so the man was a health freak. I shouldn’t be surprised though. That body of his didn’t come, from eating take away food and donuts.
When I’d finished eating, I rinsed out the bowl and stacked it in the dishwasher, before heading back to chec
k on Dante.
I found him still sleeping, and this time, he seemed more settled. He was cool when I placed my hand on his brow, so the Aspirin were definitely doing their job.
Since he looked like he was finally resting peacefully, I thought I would go and have a quick shower. I’d been glued to him for half the night and he’d sweated all over me.
I wished he was well enough to get up and shower, but maybe I could give him a sponge bath, if he didn’t start feeling stronger, soon.
I found another t-shirt of his, this one a bit bigger. I really wished I had fresh underwear to put on, but since I could never have predicted, I’d end up in Dante’s home, I hadn’t had reason to pack a spare pair. There was nothing I could do. I either put my dirty panties back on, or I went without them all together. Well, Dante wasn’t in any position to take advantage of me being half naked, so it looked like it was going to be commando for me today.
It felt like I’d only been in the shower a couple of minutes, when I thought I heard something. I stopped and listened, straining to hear over the water and exhaust fan. Nothing, I couldn’t hear anything.
Deciding I must have imagined it, I went back to washing when suddenly I heard what sounded like yelling.
This time, I popped the shower door open so I could hear more clearly and that’s when I heard it; it was a man’s voice, he sounded distressed, it was Dante.
I quickly shut off the taps, leaping out of the shower, and hastily wrapped a towel around my nakedness, before rushing from the bathroom.
When I saw him, my heart took off at the sight. He’d kicked the sheet off again, and was throwing himself violently from side to side. As he tossed and turned, he kept crying out and it frightened me, because he sounded so distressed.
Again, most of what he said was in Italian, but I didn’t need to understand him, to know he was wildly upset by whatever filled his dreams.
Suddenly he half sat up; eyes wide open, but glazed over. “No…no…no…don’t say that…don’t…don’t call me that. I’m…I’m…not…I’m…not. STOP IT!” He cried out even louder, his hands going into his hair, tugging on it, as he began to rock back and forth.
Dial a Stud: Dante's Story Page 12