WED TO THE DOM

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WED TO THE DOM Page 6

by Zoey Parker


  “That was fun,” Dante said. I grinned. The way he was looking at me was different, like he was actually trying to see inside of me, instead of right through me. “Those kids are sweet. How do you know them?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached down and twined my fingers through his.

  “What’re you doing?” Dante asked.

  I didn’t reply as I tugged him off to the side. Glancing around me to make sure we were alone, I wrapped my arms around Dante’s neck and pulled him close. My breasts rubbed up against his muscular chest, and I sighed softly as I leaned in for a kiss. When our lips met, I could have sworn I felt a spark fly between our bodies.

  Dante groaned. He slid his arms around my waist, down, until he was squeezing my ass. The sensation through the material of my jeans was incredible, and I moaned into his mouth as his tongue slipped between my lips. Even though he hadn’t had a drink since the night before, I could have sworn that he tasted like whiskey and cigarette smoke. It was delicious, addictive. I felt my hormones surge as our tongues danced together, playing and teasing inside of my mouth.

  “God.” Dante groaned. He pulled me closer and squeezed my ass harder than ever. I shivered at his touch and pressed my body against his, wrapping one of my legs around his muscular thigh.

  Dante shoved his leg forward until his thigh was pressed against my crotch. I could feel my pussy thumping with arousal, and I wanted nothing more than to feel his erotic touch closer to my skin. We’re in a hospital, I had to remind myself as Dante rubbed his leg against me.

  Finally, I summoned every ounce of willpower left in my body and pushed Dante away. He was staring at me with a wild look of lust in his blue eyes. I desperately wanted to kiss him again, to pull him close and feel his warm muscular strength against my body. But I knew that I couldn’t. At least, not right now.

  “We should go,” I said between heavy breaths, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. “I don’t want to get kicked out of here. It would break my heart if I couldn’t come visit every week.”

  Dante nodded. He slipped his fingers through mine and squeezed. I stared up at him.

  “What?” Dante laughed. “Do I have something on my face?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not that,” I said softly. “I just—Well, I didn’t exactly peg you for a hand-holding kind of guy.”

  Dante snorted. “Don’t worry. It’s just sex.”

  For some reason, that bothered me. A lot.

  # # #

  On the car ride home, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. I knew that Dante was right. It was just sex. After all, he was a hired man, and as soon as the problems with my stalker were over, he’d go back to his life. I’d go back to mine, too; my life of dating metrosexuals and scolding Anya for buying the wrong kind of coffee. But I didn’t want to think about that just yet.

  Dante slowed the car to a stop at a light. I was surprised because he actually had a pretty nice machine. It was a Camaro, and although it wasn’t a new model, it drove well and was gorgeous. He drove smoothly down the freeway with skill and precision. I could tell Dante had obviously put a lot of money and effort into his car.

  I reached over and let my hand rest on his thigh.

  Dante looked at me with surprise. “What’re you doing?”

  I licked my lips as I began to knead the muscles under my fingers. Dante had an incredible body. I knew that the moment we touched again, I wouldn’t be able to pull myself away. As I slid my hand up his leg and fondled him through his jeans, Dante groaned.

  “You gotta stop,” he panted out. “I’m gonna fuckin’ crash the car.”

  “So do it,” I said with a grin. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Dante growled. He let me continue rubbing him for another moment, then shoved my hand away. “No,” he said firmly. “Not right now.”

  I pouted. I really wanted to sleep with him. Even though I had to act like a prude around a lot of people who knew me, deep down I was about as far from a prude as a woman could get. I prided myself on being good in bed, and I knew that I’d always made my boyfriends happy before. But it was tough for a woman of status like me. If I became too obvious about it, no guys would want a relationship with me.

  Dante glanced at me. “I want you, Katia.” He growled as he shifted the car into a higher gear. We sped forward. “But not right now. Not in my car.”

  Satisfied, I pulled my hand back into my lap. A grin spread across my face. I’m going to get my way with you, and when it happens, you won’t even know what hit you I thought as Dante drove us back towards my condo.

  As we slowed down for another light, I was surprised to feel Dante’s grip on my hand. He grabbed my fingers and pulled them towards his lap, pressing my hand against his crotch. When I felt his hard cock through his jeans, I gasped and pulled my hand away.

  I turned in my seat until I was facing him. Pouting, I stared at his profile. “I thought you didn’t want me touching you?”

  “I don’t want you touching me in traffic,” Dante said. He winked at me. I felt my cheeks flush bright red. “But we’re stopped right now.”

  I slid my hand up his thigh, making sure to avoid his cock as much as possible. He was so big, I couldn’t believe it. When I thought about how his cock would feel pushing inside of me for the first time, I shivered.

  “Feeling okay?” Dante raised his eyebrows. “You look a little flushed, Katia.”

  I pulled my hand back into my lap and pouted again. I didn’t understand this guy. One minute, he was acting like someone who wanted me. I’d never be able to forget that look in his eyes I’d seen at the hospital. It had been incredible. The kind of look I always wanted to see but rarely did. It was more than lust. It was as if he wanted more than just my body; he wanted to possess all of me.

  But then, two minutes later, he was back to being teasing and mocking. I frowned as I stared at his profile through my Gucci sunglasses.

  “Dante,” I said carefully, “do you really think I’m spoiled?”

  Dante burst out laughing. I glared at him as the sound of his raucous excitement filled the Camaro.

  “I’m not kidding,” I whined. “Do you really think I’m useless?”

  Dante shook his head. He was still chuckling, and his cheeks were bright pink. “No,” he said after a moment. He shifted the car into a lower gear as we turned off the freeway. “I don’t think you’re that spoiled.”

  I licked my lips. “So, you still think I’m at least a little spoiled, then,” I countered.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. Somehow, I hadn’t been expecting him to admit that. I knew it was stupid, but part of me had been hoping the little trip to the hospital would’ve changed that. I mean, obviously, I hadn’t just wanted to go so Dante wouldn’t think I was a rotten person after all. Still though.

  “Well…” He looked towards me, but with his mirrored sunglasses I had no idea whether or not he was actually looking at me. “I mean, Katia, does this even matter? It’s not like we’re gonna be in touch for too much longer. As soon as this stalker shit dies down, I’m off.”

  My stomach twisted into a knot and I frowned again. What’s going on? Why the hell is this even bothering me so much?

  “That’s true,” I said slowly. “But do you think I’m a bad person?”

  Dante laughed again.

  “It’s not funny,” I said in a sharp voice. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

  Dante sighed. He ran a hand through the sexy tangles of his unruly dark hair. “Katia, I don’t even know what that means,” he said. He sounded tired, worn-out all of a sudden, like the day had been too much for him. “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters,” I argued. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the leather seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m horrible!”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” Dante said.

  Up ahead, I saw my condo looming on the right-hand side. Dante expertly slowed the Camaro an
d pulled into my driveway. As he turned the key in the ignition, I couldn’t ignore the lump that was forming in my throat.

  “Yes, it does,” I said stubbornly.

  “It really doesn’t. You’re gonna go on with your life, no matter what I think. And after this is over,” he said, using air quotes for the last few words. “You’re probably gonna forget all about me and start going out with Mr. Big, or whoever you girls dream about.”

  I glared at him. “That’s not true,” I said. I shifted in the leather seat, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.

  “And furthermore,” Dante continued. “You think I’m a criminal.” He lowered his aviator shades and looked at me. His eyes were completely serious, no hint of laughter or joking behind them. “You told me as much yourself, so what the fuck does it matter if I think you’re a spoiled princess?”

  I bit my lip at his stinging words. But when I thought back to our earlier interactions, even the one that had led to our passionate kiss in my living room, I knew that he was right. I’d called him a criminal. I’d acted like I was better than him, just because I was famous and had money.

  “Never mind,” I mumbled. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dante

  I didn’t fucking understand her. I’d never really been great at understanding women. I was good at fucking them, but that was about the only thing I could really claim when it came to the fairer sex. I’d never had a real relationship, either. Wasn’t because I couldn’t get one, but because I’d never wanted one. I never understood the point of fucking a woman more than once. Even a woman as smokin’ hot as Katia Reynolds.

  What’s that saying? Show me the most beautiful woman in the world, and I’ll show you a man sick of her shit?

  Yeah, something like that.

  My buddies in the club, Tristan and Troy, always had girls hanging around. They were more like Heaven’s Veil groupies than anything else though. And they’d always vie to sleep with me, but that didn’t work out too well. I was usually too busy worrying about the well-being of my guys. I didn’t have time for some cheap little floozy who expected a warm bed and a hug just for giving me head.

  When I was in high school, before I dropped out, there was a girl who followed me around and flirted with me. I had to give her credit. Back then, I was a greasy motherfucker who rarely showered or shaved, and I always wore trench coats with ripped up jeans. She was in a few of my classes, and she’d always make it a point to sit beside me and flirt with me.

  She’d wear skirts and sit with her legs spread just enough so I could see the white crotch of her panties. It used to drive me crazy. I never got to see her pussy; she wasn’t that kind of girl. But the glimpse of her labia nestled in white cotton was enough to make me cum my pants more than once.

  She’d lick her lips and toss her hair over one shoulder and act all innocent and sweet. I think her name was Tanya. She never even talked to me outside of class. I used to dream about fucking her, but the truth is, we never even touched.

  That was about the closest I’d ever come to having a girlfriend. I got laid for the first time when I was fourteen, some girl that was hanging around my older brother, Stephen. He and I barely had anything in common, but we shared the same blue eyes, dark hair, and mischievous grin. Girls flocked to him, even though he was kind of a nerd. He did debate team and was in the bowling club, but he could still get pussy.

  One day, this little redheaded girl showed up while I was sitting on our porch. She was older than me, probably sixteen or seventeen or so.

  “Is Stephen around?” She flicked her eyes over me with interest. “Who are you? His brother?”

  I nodded, sticking out my chest and trying to look cool. “Yeah, I’m Dante.”

  She giggled. “I think I had a class with you last semester.” I watched as she blushed; it lent a delicious pink undertone to her pale skin. “Algebra One, right?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, fuck that shit. I hate math.”

  “I do, too.” She giggled again and scooted closer. We were sitting outside on the front porch, and it occurred to me then how beautiful the sky was, all shades of purple and pink and orange. I wondered if it was always this pretty at this time of the day, or if I was just noticing it for the first time.

  “So,” I said, trying to sound suave. I stretched my arms over my head and let one rest on the back of the porch swing. “You’re Stephen’s girlfriend?”

  She blushed and shook her head. “Um, no.” She crinkled up her nose and gazed into my eyes. Her eyes weren’t exactly green, more hazel, but the sun caught them in a pretty way that almost turned them golden, like a cat’s.

  “You wanna be Stephen’s girlfriend, then,” I said as I grinned at her knowingly. It wasn’t a question but a statement. “Get in line. He has girls calling him around the clock.”

  She licked her lips. “He probably doesn’t even know I exist,” she said mournfully. I watched as her pink lips opened and a small sigh came out of her perfectly-formed mouth. “I mean, we’re in drama together. But he’s so popular. I can’t even compete with those other girls.”

  I put my arm around her for real then. I wasn’t trying to mack on her, just make her feel better. At least, that’s what I told myself when she leaned into the crook of my arm. It felt so good to have a warm girl pressed up against me, a girl who smelled like strawberries, Dove soap, and something vaguely sweet but unrecognizable.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her softly.

  Instead of answering, she shifted in the porch swing and pressed her lips to my cheek. I turned my face and met hers, and then we were kissing for real. When she slid her tongue into my mouth, I tasted bubblegum. I thought my cock was going to explode in my pants.

  “It’s Lilly,” she said shyly, pulling away. “You wanna go inside?”

  That day remained one of the hottest days in my life. I think I spanked to it for years afterward. Lilly and my brother never wound up dating. I wonder why. She didn’t hang around much after that, and we never slept together again. I probably wasn’t a very good fuck. I think I lasted all of five seconds before groaning and filling the condom. But that day was important to me; it was the day I’d become a man.

  “Hey,” Katia said. She snapped her fingers, jolting me out of my Lilly-induced reverie. Katia walked into the living room wearing a pair of jeans and a white sweater. “What’re you doing?”

  I blinked. “Nothing,” I mumbled.

  She burst out laughing. “You’ve been staring at the wall for like, twenty minutes,” she teased. “I’m going shopping for dinner.”

  I stared at her. The afternoon sun was catching her blonde hair, making it look almost white. The jeans were practically molded to her body, and I could see the curve of her ass through the denim. And the sweater was a sexy one. The soft wool was knit in a pattern with holes, and I could see her tan skin through the fabric. My cock twitched in my pants as I thought about what it would feel like to grab her, take her, make her mine.

  “What?” Katia looked down at her sweater. “Do I have something on me?”

  I shook my head.

  Idiot, I thought with a groan. Act like a fucking man, you’re not some stupid teenager! You’re thirty years old, for fuck’s sake! If you wanna fuck her, fuck her!

  “No,” I said. I stood up and ran a hand through my unruly cowlicks. Katia stepped closer, and a warm, spicy-yet-floral scent wafted over my senses. “I can take you to the store,” I said casually. “I’m bored as fuck right now.”

  For a moment, I thought she was going to protest. Ever since that day in the hospital earlier in the week, I’d thought of her a little differently. She was still a spoiled little bitch—don’t get me wrong, but I was starting to see her as almost innocent, the kind of girl who wanted to act like much more of an adult than she really felt. I had a feeling that a lot of Katia’s snobby behavior was all adapted, all something that she’d started putting forward as a way of making herself seem more like the
typical beauty queen, the typical L.A. girl.

  “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “You can drive.”

  I grinned. As we climbed into the car, an idea struck me. “Hey,” I said. “You ever seen the Hollywood sign? Like, the view from up there?”

  Katia’s blue eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. I’ve always wanted to see the view. People always talk about how incredible it is, but I’ve never been.”

  “We should go up there.” I backed my Camaro out of the driveway. Katia looked good sitting in it beside me. I wouldn’t have told her, but I was dying to see what she’d look like in a bikini, rolling around on the hood.

  “Why?” Katia frowned. “I thought you hated spending time with me.”

 

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