I’ve got something. Jesus, I’m such a whore.
“Very cute,” I chastise, pushing his hand out of the bag and grabbing the muffin. “Here.” I place the bag on his chest.
He pulls out another muffin and takes a bite, chewing for a minute before adding, “You taste better.”
I let out an irritated growl and stand up, abandoning my muffin.
“What’s going on? My head is spinning, Dante. You bully me into your home and then say you want to help…how? By bringing me breakfast? And don’t make me even have to mention the flirting.” My arm waves in the air as the other holds my coffee.
He puts down his cup on the nightstand and folds his arms behind his head. God damn him. He’s the picture of arrogance. So fucking calm in the middle of my storm.
His voice is smooth and calculated. “I didn’t bully. I passionately coerced. You weren’t exactly open to compromise, Sarah.”
“I don’t remember being given any alternatives to imprisonment,” I quip.
He turns his body toward me, propping his head up with his hand. “Then let’s make a deal.”
I’m shocked at his nerve, and my mouth drops open, my arms crossing over my chest. “A deal? You don’t know the meaning.”
Dante rolls onto his back, heaving his solid frame up, and plants his feet on the floor. His head hangs for a moment as he sits with his back to me, his muscles deliciously on display. He cracks his neck before standing and turning to face me.
“You need to hear me out, Billy,” he says more seriously. “And I’m not really open to hearing no.”
This dick!
I take a step backward, narrowing my eyes. “This is bullshit.” I turn and walk for the door, hearing Dante’s footsteps sweep over the plush carpeting.
I swing the door open, barreling through toward where I remember the living room was. It takes a minute, but I realize that we’re alone, causing me to stop abruptly. I’m instantly engulfed by Dante’s body. His arms wrap around me, stopping me from falling forward, and pull me into his body.
“Where is everyone?” I ask quietly as he rights me, my back against his chest.
There’s something about this, the way he’s holding me, the place we’re standing. It’s reminiscent of that night. I can tell he’s remembering too by his silence.
His voice drifts over my ear, goose bumps spreading over my neck. “They’re only here when I can’t be.”
His hands slide over my stomach and turn me around to face him. We’re so close. If he moved just an inch, his lips would be on mine.
And I’m not sure I’d push him away.
I lift my chin, and his eyes fix on my lips. He feels it too. The familiar pull between us.
Screw it. Kiss me. Fuck me. Let me take a hit.
Dante’s lips skim mine as my eyes flutter shut.
“Careful what you wish for, Billy. You can only tempt me so much before I’ll want it…and trust me, I’ll get my way.”
Shit. What am I doing? I blink a few times and shake my head, the moment between us broken.
“Oh, this is gonna be fun.” He revels in gauging my reaction. “You ready to listen to me now, Billy?”
SARAH STARTS WALKING AGAIN, LETTING out a frustrated breath. She doesn’t even have a destination, but she’s clearly so pissed that she just needs to move.
I wonder if she’s more pissed that she almost kissed me or that I didn’t let her.
“Sarah,” I call out from where I stand.
“No, I’m not ready,” she says over her shoulder. “Because you’re going to try and decide for me, and I only like that in the bedroom, Dante.”
Fuck, I like that, too.
I take quick steps to where she’s traveled to and grab her by the waist, hauling her backward midstride. She lets out a surprised yelp, and I twist her around, bending as I throw her over my wide shoulder.
“I remember. Quit fucking walking around already,” I growl as I stalk over to the couch.
She smacks at my back yelling, “Put me down.”
I deposit her on the oversized gray sofa, watching as she melts into the down cushions. She’s a wild mess, her hair swinging around her flushed face.
My eyebrows raise as a warning, because I won’t chase her again. “You keep fucking acting up, and I’ll tie you to the goddamn bed. We clear? Now, are you ready to listen?”
“Fine. Speak. It’s not like I have a choice but to listen,” she barks, pushing her hair from her cheeks.
I can see from the look in her eyes that she expects me to be a smartass, to yell or growl at her. But that’s not getting me anywhere with Sarah. The harder I push, the harder she pushes back.
It’s why I can’t stop thinking filthy damn thoughts.
I lower down in front of her, bringing us face-to-face, caging her in with my arms planted on either side of her legs. Her breath catches as I bring my middle finger to her forehead, gently sweeping a strand of her hair out of her eyes.
We’re close, intimately close, and I can see the war in her expression. She hates that it calms her.
My voice is tender as I speak, which takes concerted effort on my part. “Let’s try this another way. Stop fighting me. Let me try and help. Give me a week, maybe two. You don’t even know where they are, Billy. I can get eyes on them, and worst case, I buy you some time so that you can get lost, but with a nice head start.”
She starts chewing on the inside of her cheek, considering what I’m saying. Sarah takes a deep breath and nods.
“You’re right. I don’t know where they are. And they won’t know I’m here. But I need terms of my own for this deal, something that gives me control of this crazy fucking situation.”
“Name them, Billy.”
I can’t help but grin because every tiny step with this girl feels like a goddamn world victory.
Her small hands push against my chest, trying to move me back. She needs the space, but she’s not getting it. She tries again, but my eyes dart to her hands then back to her face with a shake of my head.
Sarah glares at me for a moment then answers.
“First, tell me what you want in return? And don’t bullshit me.”
“Nothing,” I answer honestly, “I’m serious, Billy. Just let me help. Trust me, this is more about me than you.”
The curiosity in her eyes has me pulling back. Now I need the space.
“Why do you keep saying that? Why do you care so much, Dante? We had a fun night, it was great, but this seems like an insane gesture just to secure a second date,” she jokes, but the tension doesn’t ease in my shoulders.
I push up to half stand, angling my body to join her on the couch. Taking a deep breath in, I squint my eyes at her before my face relaxes. The answer she wants to hear isn’t the one I have to give. She wants to hear that I’m a good person, altruistic. But I’m not. I’m just a guy who can’t forget his past and likes to see people get what’s coming to them.
So, I tell her a half-truth.
“Because you mean a lot to my brothers. What’s important to them becomes important to me. Simple as that.”
Her eyes crease in the corner from her fond look at the mention of Dominic and Luca. She looks beautiful when she does that.
“Or, maybe I’m doing this for good karma,” I add, smirking.
She grins wider. “Your smile gives away your lie.”
“You don’t believe in karma?”
“No, and neither do you, or you’d never take matters into your own hands. And I don’t believe that you actually think any decision you make is wrong,” she accuses humorously, pushing at my shoulder.
I reach up and grab her wrist as she does it, locking eyes. Hers search mine, and I swear I can see a debate brewing in her mind. She wants to tell me something, but the minute she looks away, I’m certain she’s thought better of it.
My eyes drift down to the hand I’m still holding, and I gently flip it over, leaving her palm up. I begin to trace the uneven lines and crevi
ces etched into her flawless skin as I speak.
“True. But what does the reason matter so long as you get a hand with these assholes?”
“You say that as if I asked for your help,” she says quietly, watching my fingers skim against her skin.
I can’t help but want to touch her. Whatever’s going on between us, like this, is as electric as the anger she has for me.
“No, but you’ll take it…eventually. Because you are far from stupid, and you know when to submit.” She scowls at my choice of words, but I grin. “That look is my favorite.”
“You’re exhausting,” she breathes out.
“Only because you’re fighting it,” I counter.
“Fighting what, exactly? Your assistance or your advances?” she challenges, leveling a glare at me.
“You hate me now, but that shit’s like throwing gasoline on the fire. You might not want my help, but that won’t stop you from wanting me, Billy…and after last week, I’m not so sure which one you actually want me to ask permission for. Because forcing my kindness takes away you feeling weak for asking. And forcing your body…well, that just gives you what you crave.”
“Shut up,” she whispers, biting her lip.
Just like I thought.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Billy. I dare you.”
I start to let go of her hand, so I can lean in to kiss her, and her eyes dart down.
“That’s the love line,” she blurts out, obviously hoping for a subject change or a reprieve.
I run my finger over the small crease that she pointed out nestled inside her palm, grinning because I’ve made her nervous.
“It’s supposed to tell you how many times you’ll marry and how long you’ll stay in love. If you believe in that stuff.” She shrugs, suddenly seeming shy.
Since when does Sarah get shy?
“Why is yours so short?” I tease, with a smirk, but it drops as a small frown tugs at her lips.
She gently twists her wrist from my hand and pushes to stand, keeping her eyes from mine. She traces the line on her palm, and her eyes grow sadder before she speaks.
“Because all the space in my heart is taken up by my hate.”
I don’t like any part of what she just said because it speaks to me. It mimics me. Like two broken mirrors aimed at each other, aligned with the same cracks.
I stand, locking eyes with her and taking her chin between my fingers. “We’ll see, Billy. Don’t tap out yet. You still have time.”
Her hands find my chest, and she closes her beautiful blue eyes. As much as I want this moment, I don’t, because I can’t be the good guy. There’s no redemption, no absolution for a man like me.
As if she can hear my thoughts, she pushes back, but I don’t budge, forcing her to take a step backward. My hands sweep over my face, rubbing my stubbled jaw roughly.
“I’ll give you two weeks, but we aren’t doing this…” Sarah says, motioning between us. “No more flirting. No more touching. No more you,” she adds, waving her hands up and down my bare chest. “We’re not playing house, and by that, I mean fucking, because I’m going to need a clear head, and all of this doesn’t help in that department.”
I shake my head, irritated that she’s trying to take the inevitable off the table. Sure, the timing is complicated. But I want this girl. She wants me. If she thinks I’ll allow her to fucking deny me after last week, she’s crazy… I’ll push her until she comes crawling.
“You wanted terms. Are those it? No fucking?” My voice is gruff as I ask, unwilling to hide my irritation.
“Yes,” she states, tipping her chin defiantly.
If I thought for one fucking moment this was about anything other than trying to stick it to me because I made her come here, I’d rethink my next move. But it’s not.
Dragging my bottom lip between my teeth, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Looks like we’re in for negotiations then, Billy. You thought I was a bully before? You don’t have a fucking clue what I’ll do to get back inside that tight little pussy. We’re happening.”
“Wanna bet?” she grits out, angry at my challenge. “I’m not as weak as you think.”
I laugh and bring my hands together, rubbing them back and forth.
“Billy, I like when you fight back…remember?”
I see her fingers dig into her hips, and her breath hitches. Dirty fucking girl. The elevator dings, and I know Matteo’s arrived with her bag, so I stroll past her pissed-off face as I make my way toward the entry.
Matteo has a small black leather duffle in one hand and a matching one in the other as he greets me.
“Hey. She’s got so much stuff, so I just grabbed pajamas and sweats. And a bunch of girly shit that smelled good from her bathroom counter.”
I laugh, catching her following me out of my peripheral as I walk. “Perfecto. She’ll live if it isn’t right. She’s not going anywhere.”
“She’s right here. Can you not talk about me as if I’m not in the room,” she snaps, walking to Matteo to grab one of the bags.
“Hey, Sarah,” he greets, handing over the duffle.
She leans in and kisses his cheek, cutting her eyes at me after she does, resulting in my smile. “Hi, Matteo.”
“So you’re nice to him…” I laugh, knowing what she’s doing.
She walks into her bedroom without answering, and Matteo laughs and opens his arms. “Everyone likes me. I’m charming.”
“Attento.” Careful.
Matteo holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Understood.”
Her door closes, and we walk back into the living room with the remaining bag. Matteo places it on the couch as he half sits down on the armrest, crossing his arms over his leather-jacketed chest.
“Did you find out names? Vincenzo swears he saw his life flash before him when he questioned her.” He laughs.
I shake my head as I walk to the bar by the kitchen, glancing out of the window that spans the wall, and grab a glass, pouring myself a scotch. “I’d call him a pussy, but I came pretty close to her right hook this morning.”
He starts to laugh, but it fades just as quickly.
“Is that mine too?” Sarah questions from behind me, and I look over my shoulder at Matteo, who shakes his head to let me know she didn’t hear us.
“Yes,” I answer, turning around and ignoring her to speak to Matteo. “Keep her out of trouble.”
“You’re leaving me here?” she says surprised, as I walk toward her.
“Yeah. I’ve got shit to run and people to find.” I stop in front of her and look down. “Matteo will get your stuff. Play on your phone. Girls like that, right? They do that shit all the time.”
The look on her face could actually end my life. Before she can spit fire, I walk off toward my bedroom door, calling over my shoulder, “I gotta change. No coming in.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t. I have a bet to win.”
“SARAH.” MATTEO PUSHES AGAINST THE doorframe. “Dante’s going to be so pissed when he finds out you tied me up and searched the house.”
I laugh loudly and look at him. “You’re such a pussy. One, if he cared about security, the asshole would have locks on his doors or at the very least on his desk. And two, he already knows. And three…if that’s your story, that I tied you up, you’re as good as dead.”
“Very nice. Good to know you’ll mourn me. Great friend you are.” He laughs as I open up another drawer from the desk in Dante’s office.
The size of his office is enviable; it’s probably the size of my bedroom in my apartment. A muted black bookshelf, filled with books, runs from floor to ceiling on one side, and on the other is his large stone-gray desk.
The room is masculine and strong with a faint smell of cigars. It’s definitely Dante, but I don’t believe that he uses it often because other than an errant pen, everything is neat and organized, each item having its place. It’s unnatural.
Yep, he’s a psycho, or this is a front.
My head pops up when Matteo lets out a breath, reminding me to answer. “I’m a hostage, and you’re an accomplice in that. Our friendship is void. And believe me, Dante is well aware that I’m searching his house…which is why I’m coming up empty. He isn’t stupid, and he also knows you’re a little afraid of me.”
“You’re lucky you’re a girl,” he shoots back, laughing.
“No, you are.” I exact, closing the last drawer when I come up empty.
Matteo walks inside the office, past me, and turns to come up from behind. He presses his hands on my back, pushing me out with enough force that my feet are made to take the steps.
I start to laugh and try to dig my feet into the ground, but he pushes harder.
Of all the guys, Matteo is the least intimidating. He’s so easygoing and charming, living like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The downside is he comes with annoyingly crude humor, and I’m fairly certain he fucks anything that walks.
“Come on. There’s nothing here that’s interesting,” he complains, “Other than his overly sorted pen container. But you didn’t think you’d be smarter than the FBI and find the smoking gun, did you?”
I reach my hands out to grab the doorjamb, stopping us just inside the room. “No. I’m not an idiot. But I’m trying to figure him out, and you should help me.”
Matteo lets out a groan. “Later. I’m starving, Sarah. Snoop later, cook for us now.”
“I can’t cook, you sexist dick,” I snap loudly.
Matteo spins me around to look at him, confusion on his face. “Seriously?”
“No, I can.” I smirk. “Come on. But you’re so entitled.” I laugh, letting the door go and exiting the room.
We walk down the hallway from Dante’s office to the stairs. “How many women do you have cooking for you on a weekly basis?”
“As many as I can eat,” he answers, bouncing down the stairs in front of me.
“Jesus. You’re disgusting.” I laugh.
When we hit the bottom of the stairs, we head toward the kitchen, and I smile at him.
“Would you give it all up for you know who?” I question, wagging my brows.
“Sarah,” he answers, my name a warning.
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