She walked out onto the balcony and looked down with her hands on the railing.
“I hope you brought your bikini,” I said.
She looked back at me and smiled, turning to walk towards me.
“Hm, I don’t think I did,” she said playfully.
“Oh no?”
“Nope, looks like I can't go swimming with you.”
“Why would you say that? You can go swimming naked.”
“Only if you are naked, too.”
Working for me, I could only imagine the sort of shit that my staff, Daniella especially, had seen. I didn’t tend to bring girls out here voluntarily. Usually, it was nighttime and all they wanted was to get to the bedroom. I led Quinn out to the pool. If she was tired from the trip or would rather have done something else, she didn’t tell me.
I would never get tired of watching her take her clothes off for me. I hoped she wasn’t shy. We weren’t really going to have an audience, but there was always a chance that Daniella or the guy who did the lawns, David, would see us.
I knew she wasn’t shy when we were behind closed doors, but we were outside. It was broad fucking daylight and I wanted to fuck her in the pool. Having sex in places where people were likely to see us was totally her thing though.
The first thing she did was walk up to the side of the pool. She had her back to me, but she turned and looked at me over her shoulder. She smiled before she pulled her shirt off. She tossed it onto the ground and did the same with her bra. Her pants were next, then her shoes. Last, she peeked over her shoulder at me again as she bent down at the hips and pulled her panties down as she did it.
Just like in the plane.
She knew I liked it. I felt myself getting hard watching her. We were going into the pool, but we weren’t about to do a lot of swimming. I watched as she stood at the edge of the pool and did a perfect dive into the water. I pulled my shirt off and watched her swim. She was completely naked under the water, and I couldn’t wait to join her.
Her body was so hot. She was so sexy. She was lush and curvy and her body dipped and flared in all the right places. She looked hot just standing there; she didn’t even have to do anything. I got all my clothes off and joined her in the water. I waited for her at the edge of the pool because I wasn’t there to swim. She swam up to me and stood in the shallow water.
Her hair was wet so it all lay plastered to her skin. The water was dripping down her tits and down her body. I pulled her into me and kissed her, sucking her tongue into my mouth. My cock was rock hard already. I was ready, but I didn’t want to fuck her just yet. Not just yet. I leaned back into the wall and pulled myself up onto the side so I was sitting.
I didn’t even have to tell her what I wanted her to do. She leaned into my lap and took my dick in her mouth. I leaned back on my hands and let her go to work. She obviously enjoyed feeling me grow thick and hard in mouth. I wanted to fuck her mouth and watch her swallow my cum, but there was time for that another day, or later today.
I groaned feeling her tongue circle my tip. She was a goddamn pro. I loved it. I held the back of her head and pushed her all the way down so I was balls deep down her throat. She fidgeted a little, but she didn’t gag or squeeze my leg or anything to tell me that she was uncomfortable. I let go of her, and she slowly sucked me all the way to the tip again.
Okay. That was it. I needed her. I needed to feel her hot, tight pink walls squeezing my dick.
I pulled her up and slid back into the water. I kissed her and pulled her head back by her hair, making her moan into my mouth. I moved us so she was against the wall and spun her around so her back was to me.
“Have you ever had sex in a pool, Quinn?” I asked her. My hand was running up and down between her ass cheeks. She loved it when I played with her hole.
“Never,” she whispered.
“Lean forward,” I instructed her.
She offered her ass to me under the water. I didn’t want to waste any more time teasing her. She was already wet. We were in a pool. I slid my cock into her hot, pink pussy. I heard her moan and felt her shudder against me. I braced myself against the wall and went in on her.
I fucked her like I was mad at her.
I held her to my body by her hips and drove into her so hard and so fast she needed to lean against the wall to support herself. I was about to bust any second. Thinking about how rough she liked it, and how rough she would let me give it to her was pushing me over the edge. I felt her pussy tighten around me and she sagged forward, moaning my name. I gave it another three good thrusts before I was shooting inside her.
Chapter Nineteen
Quinn
We hadn’t been together that long but I thought, I really thought, that by now I had a pretty good idea of who Dante Rock was.
We’d had a few interviews where he had shocked me with his honesty.
He had told me things that a lot of other people had no idea about. Our relationship… the one which I really didn’t know what to classify as anymore wasn’t old, but I felt like I had uncovered most things about the mysterious Dante Rock. I hadn’t really uncovered anything. He had volunteered that information, trusted me with it, which I was extremely grateful to him for doing.
Why was he still surprising me at every turn?
I didn’t really know what I was expecting when we got to his house. Of course, I thought it would be nice, but it was a lot nicer than I had expected. He looked like he cared a little about things like interior design and layout and decorating. Maybe it was his sister or mom who had helped him with it, but it didn’t matter. The space was still remarkable. It wasn’t all hard edges, with lots of cold stainless steel and dark woods. It was warm. It looked like a home.
The thing that had really gotten me, though, was the way he talked to his staff. He had a team working for him. I didn’t know why that surprised me when I saw them, but it did. Of course, he had people working for him. I guess it just took away from how solitary I thought he was in this big house, alone in the Hollywood Hills.
Even though they worked for him, he didn’t seem to treat them that way. He treated them like… really well. I didn’t think he was a slave driver or anything, but it just surprised me. Seeing the way he acted with people who he could have been a complete dick towards was refreshing because he wasn’t.
He was a guy whom it was easy to make assumptions about. When they were made, he didn’t really do that much to deny them. He didn’t really care that much—and that—depending on how you looked at it was a bad and a good thing. It was good to care about the impression you made on others because it was important that you acted in a way that made people want to respect you.
It was bad, however, because fuck everyone else. How much time were you really going to spend worrying about other people's feelings? It was a double-edged sword. Dante didn’t give a shit about what people thought and he just did him.
The guy who was arrogant and banged a different girl every night was Dante. The one who was kind to his staff and loved his family was Dante, too. It was different—depending on who he was around.
I didn’t go and act in meetings at work the way I would act when I was with my girlfriends, having brunch. You had to modulate yourself and adjust to different settings and people. It made sense.
I loved the Dante that I saw when we were alone. When we were having dinner in Houston, before the big bust up, he had been so… so nice. I had loved being in his company. He was still a little abrasive, but that was just the way that he was.
After the pool, we had gotten back into the house and made our way up, leaving a watery trail to his master bathroom. He had given me a repeat performance, having sex in the tub while it filled with hot water and the jets were going. He had let me top him again. The way he had done on the plane. We had come to bed after.
The trip between LA and Houston wasn’t that dramatic of a time difference, but Dante had spent the night in a holding cell. I didn’t think he had gotten much rest.
I understood that he was tired. I was a little tired too, but I was buzzing from being alone with him. I was excited by the thought of spending time with him. What would we do? What did he want to do when he asked me to stay with him? Sex, of course, I figured that much, but it wasn’t like we were going to be fucking day in day out. We would be doing other things too—and I couldn’t wait to see what they were.
I heard a knock on the door.
Who was at the door this early? What time was it? I stretched my arms out and hit something hard. It wasn’t hard like the wall; it was warm, a body. I opened my eyes quickly, seeing Dante beside me. I realized slowly where I was.
Dante’s house.
I was thirsty and that was what had woken me up. It dawned on me that we were back in LA after taking a flight back from Houston.
I had wriggled free and pulled a t-shirt over my head, one I pulled out of Dante’s open suitcase. When I went to the door, I saw it was Daniella. She didn’t look down at the t-shirt and the lack of pants. She just smiled at me.
“Is everything alright, ma'am?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Everything is fine. I just wanted to go down to the kitchen for something to drink.”
“Stay here and I will get you something. What would you like?”
“Oh no, Daniella, please. I wanted to go downstairs anyway. It's fine.”
The woman put up a little more resistance before she finally led me downstairs. She pulled a bottle of Pellegrino out of the fridge and set it on the counter for me, asking whether I wanted anything to eat or had laundry I wanted her to put through the machine for me.
I thanked her for her hospitality and told her that it was fine. All I wanted was the water.
Daniella was a short, sort of stout woman. She looked like she had kids who might have even been as old as I was.
“Daniella?” I asked, feeling nosy.
“Yes, ma'am?”
“How long have you been working with Dante?”
“About six years.”
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“He’s a good man, ma'am. He’s understanding, gives us days off. He helped pay for my daughter's tuition to go to college.”
“You don’t have to call me ma'am, Daniella. Just call me Quinn.”
“You’re Mr. Rock’s guest. He told us you were an important friend,” she said, smiling. Had he? An important friend? What else had he said about me?
I thanked Daniella and went back upstairs to the room. Dante was still asleep. I didn’t bother taking the shirt off. I just climbed back under the covers and lay my head on the pillow.
I looked at the man sleeping beside me. I knew a lot of women had been in this position, but I was going to enjoy it. There was nothing wrong with it, and it was just a waste of my time being jealous—because regardless of who else he had had in his bed, I was there now.
His face was calm as he slept. His seriousness sometimes made him look older than he was when he was awake. With his eyes closed and his face still, he looked his age, even a little younger. Sometimes, the intensity of his eyes made you want to look away when he looked at you. I wanted to touch his face, but I was afraid that I would wake him and I wouldn’t be able to keep staring at him the way I was…like a creep.
The way he talked about his past and the things that he had been through made him seem like he was such an old, gnarled angry man. He acted publically like there was nothing to him, but what he showed us. I could see it while he lay there sleeping.
His innocence.
He still had some. Despite what had happened in his life, he was still good and pure, some parts of him at least.
I wanted to kiss him right then, but I stopped myself, afraid to wake him and break the spell. I moved slowly to my bag and pulled my camera out. I just wanted to capture it, the Dante he was when he was alone and no one was looking.
I looked at him through the camera.
His eyes were closed, but his body moved. He silently shifted, stretched and I watched him open his eyes.
His face seemed to transform as I watched.
"What the fuck!" he roared.
I leaned back on my heels and looked at him.
"What's the matter?"
"The fuck are you doing with that camera? Turn it off!"
He was suddenly on his feet.
My skin felt clammy suddenly and I felt insecure. What had I done? I put the camera back in my purse and showed him my empty palms.
"It's gone."
"Get out," he spat. I looked up at him.
"What?"
"Out! Get the fuck out of my house! Leave!"
What?
What was going on? What did he mean? Why was he talking to me like this?
"Dante? What is going on? What...what did I do?"
"I swear to God, Quinn. Get your shit and get out. Do it before I call the cops and they can help you," he bellowed.
I felt like a child as he yelled at me. I felt scared by his anger. He looked so angry. He was pacing the room like a caged tiger, and his stance was erect and defensive.
I went to my bag and silently started packing. There wasn't that much to pack, I mostly had to get clothes onto my own body. I kept the shirt I was wearing on and just pulled on panties and pants because I didn't want him getting even madder than he was at me.
He had just woke up.
I had watched, literally watched him go from zero to one hundred—and there was no apparent reason why he was so mad. He just was. I wanted so badly to talk to him. To ask him what it was that I fucking did because I did something. I fucking did something.
You didn't go from having sex with someone to kicking them out with that much anger unless something was wrong.
"Don't fucking come back," I heard him say.
I turned and faced him.
"Dante?"
"What?" he shouted. "What! Why are you still here? Get the fuck out of my house! How many times do I have to ask you to leave?"
I had to give it one last try. The way he was looking at me and talking to me was making no sense. Why was he so mad?
"Dante—?"
"You aren't welcome here! See yourself the fuck out."
He turned and walked into the master ensuite bathroom, where we had been having sex not that long ago.
I grabbed my suitcase and purse and quickly left the room.
I closed the door behind me, and I immediately felt sick.
I wanted to go back in there and kiss him. I wanted to hold him, and I wanted him to tell me what had made him so mad.
How could I when it was apparently me that had made him that mad?
He hadn't stuttered. He had been perfectly clear.
I couldn't imagine his ire if he came back out of the bathroom and I was still there. The house was so big that if I wanted I could have remained inside it and still be so far away from where he was that he wouldn't have noticed.
It wasn't time to be childish.
I was being kicked out.
I went down the stairs and found Daniella in the kitchen. Her face was concerned.
"Ma’am, what's going on?"
"I... I'm not sure," I said honestly. "I'm leaving."
"Do you have a ride home?"
"No," I said awkwardly. A cascade of shame washed over me. How many of Dante's hookups had she had this conversation with? I felt like just another one of his hoes as Daniella called a taxi service for me.
I managed to keep it together until I got in the back of that cab.
I just broke.
What had I done?
What the hell had I done to make Dante yell at me like that?
Chapter Twenty
Dante
I didn’t even know if she had a ride to get home.
Was it my problem? She was an adult. Daniella was downstairs and could help her out if she needed it. She had a cell phone; she could have called anyone she wanted to pick her up. If those weren’t options, she had two legs, and both of them worked. She
could walk home, or to a bus stop, or wherever the fuck she wanted as long, as it wasn’t here.
I was so mad; I just didn’t want to be in the same room as her anymore.
I felt like I was going to punch someone or something. I paced around the room before I zeroed in on my victim. I grabbed the standing lamp and swung it into the wall, smashing it into splinters. I swung the broken piece, smashing it smaller. I tore one of the drawers out of my bedside table and threw it across the room. The drawer smashed, and what was in it, just condoms, scattered across the room.
Second Chance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 58