by Sabrina Sol
With his eyes still on the road, he reached over with his right hand and touched her thigh. It was meant to be an innocent gesture to show his regret. But just then the car rolled over a bump in the road and his hand ended up sliding over the top of her thigh and came dangerously close to the forbidden valley between her legs. The realization of where he was touching ignited every nerve in his body. Fuck. What was it about her tonight that made him crash through his self-imposed boundaries? He had to control himself better. He mumbled a quick apology and moved his hand back to the steering wheel.
The fact that she didn’t even acknowledge the slip of his hand told him she was still pissed about him laughing at her story.
A few minutes later, he parked his car on the street in front of her bungalow-style house. But she didn’t move to get out.
He turned to her. “I’m really sorry I laughed, Alexa. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve what Nick did to you, then or now. If I had been there tonight, I probably would’ve been the one arrested.”
She nodded and exhaled a deep breath. Then she finally faced him. “Do you want to come inside for a drink?”
A handful of reasons why he shouldn’t go in raced through his head. He was exhausted. She was exhausted. He had a meeting early in the morning. She had just seen the guy who had broken her heart three years ago.
When he didn’t answer right away, she touched his hand. “Please? I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”
And with those words, his control crumbled into a million tiny pieces.
He turned off the car. “Sure. Why not?”
Chapter Three
Alexa looked at the little black dress she’d just thrown on her bed and shook her head in disgust.
“What a waste.”
She could never wear it again, of course. It would always be known as the dress she wore to jail. That was some bad karma right there. So in the morning she’d take it to the dry cleaner and then it would go in her Salvation Army donation tub.
She touched the hem. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll make someone else very happy.”
Tying the sash of her kimono, Alexa padded into her bathroom. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and then checked her makeup. She reached for the perfume spritzer on her counter and then stopped.
Wait. What was she doing?
Dante was waiting for her downstairs in her living room. Dante.
She should wash her face and change into her sweats and faded blue Dodgers T-shirt. Sure, her black silk kimono covered her bra and panties, but it barely reached her knees. It was a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen that could send him the wrong signal.
This was so not how she’d imagined how the night would go. If anyone had told her beforehand all the crazy things that would happen to her, she would have just stayed home.
She was shaken. More than she wanted to admit. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see Nick’s angry face and hear the bottles crashing down all around her. She needed lots of alcohol and someone to distract her from her own thoughts. Brandon was in Miami, so she couldn’t call him. His pregnant fiancée, Daisy, was definitely asleep by now, so she would be no help. And after she’d texted both Natalie and Clarissa as soon as she’d gotten home, both had said they were going to sleep, too.
That left Dante.
He was her brother’s college roommate. Her lawyer. He was the one she’d sworn to herself she’d never sleep with—although she’d come close to it when they were both twenty-one. That’s when it had become crystal clear that Dante didn’t belong with a girl like her.
No, he belonged with some gown-wearing society-page beauty queen who could hang on his arm at his law firm’s fancy events and carry on conversations about Vermont ski vacations and charity fund-raisers. She laughed, thinking about what the other lawyers and their wives would think if he ever showed up with her. What would they stare at most—the tattoos on her wrist and shoulders or the way she could knock back tequila shots?
When it came down to it, the restaurant and Brandon were really the only things they had in common. Their worlds spun in two different galaxies. Whereas Dante was an expensive champagne, Alexa was more like a craft beer—an acquired taste you might bring to a party for fun, but not something you’d take to your boss’s house for Thanksgiving dinner.
She’d hated having to call him earlier tonight. That’s why she’d been so eager to get out of the police station. She’d bet none of the women he’d dated ever had to call him from jail. They were the type to have glamour shots, not mug shots. God, the humiliation was still so raw, she winced.
But then he’d gone and apologized to her, and, in that moment, she had wanted him to stay more than she had wanted him to go. And now he was in her living room waiting for her to get freshened up.
What a crazy night indeed.
This was all Nick’s fault. That lying and cheating jerk. She couldn’t believe it when he’d told the cops that she was his crazy ex-girlfriend who’d shown up and broken his wine bottles on purpose because she was jealous.
Her? Jealous? Please. She’d gotten over Nick ages ago.
A little voice—the devilish one that always got her into trouble—whispered in her ear, Dante is the one you’re not over. And you won’t be until you finally have him.
In her other ear, Natalie’s and Clarissa’s voices warned: Think this through, Alexa. Don’t do anything you’re going to regret tomorrow.
She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, as if it could tell her what she should do.
But it gave her no answers. Even the voices in her head remained quiet.
The next move would be Alexa’s alone.
And that was the scariest thought of all.
She found Dante sitting on her couch, drinking from a glass filled halfway with a dark amber-colored liquid. “Well, it looks like you made yourself comfortable,” she said as she took a seat next him, curling one leg underneath her.
“It looks like you did, too,” he said, his voice deep and appreciative. She wore neither the kimono nor the Dodgers shirt. Instead, she’d compromised with a pair of dark denim shorts and white V-neck T-shirt.
She’d decided that the only things that would happen tonight with Dante were a drink and maybe some old-fashioned conversation. Given the night she’d had, it was probably all she could handle anyway.
At least, that’s what her brain was telling her.
He reached for the glass sitting in front of him on the coffee table and handed it to her. His eyes darkened when their fingers touched. Another flash of heat raised her temperature even more. Instinctively, her defenses went up. Acknowledging her own desires would be opening the floodgates. So, to keep them both safe, she locked them away.
She took a small sip. “Mmm, brandy,” she said. “Just what I needed.”
Alexa took another drink and closed her eyes. The alcohol warmed her instantly and loosened the taut nerves in her shoulders.
“You seem, uh, less traumatized,” he said after sipping from his glass.
She nodded and opened her eyes. “Knowing I’m going to sleep in my own bed tonight instead of in some dirty jail cell has improved my mood drastically. But I am sorry if I ruined your plans for tonight.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t. I’m glad that I could be there for you.”
The softness of his words relaxed her even more. She could do this. She could have a nice conversation with him. She could be normal.
“I’m glad you were, too,” she said truthfully.
The conversation drifted away from the night’s events to safer topics, like Brandon’s new Miami restaurant, Alexa’s plans for some new dishes at L.A. Cuchara, and the fact that she was going to be an aunt in less than three months.
“Is your mom planning to come out here after the baby is born?” he asked after refilling their glasses with more brandy.
“After, before, during…” she said
with a laugh. “She’s going to fly in about a week before the baby’s due date and stay with them for at least a month. I warned Daisy that her soon-to-be mother-in-law may never go back to Puerto Rico after seeing her first grandchild.”
He smiled warmly. “What a difference a few months make, right? I still remember how hard it was to get her to Los Angeles for her cancer treatments.”
Alexa nodded. It was hard to forget. Those had been some of the darkest days of her life. She’d lost her papi when she’d been a little girl. She hadn’t been prepared to lose her mami, too. She’d never felt so helpless, so scared. Luckily, Brandon had come up with an outrageous plan to pretend to be engaged to Daisy, an event planner he sometimes worked with, as a way of getting their mother on a plane. Not only did the plan work and her mami got the surgery and treatments she needed in L.A., but Brandon and Daisy ended up falling in love for real. And now her mami was a healthy soon-to-be grandmother.
“We’re all lucky that things turned out the way they did. Especially for Brandon and Daisy. It’s amazing how love works,” she told Dante.
“I guess if it’s meant to be, then it will be,” he said.
His words surprised her. “Don’t tell me you believe in fate?”
“Of course I do. Why does that shock you?”
“Because leaving things to chance isn’t exactly your style. You order the carnitas plate on Tuesdays and the shrimp enchiladas on Fridays. And if you come in on a Wednesday, then it’s the carnitas plate again.”
His eyes widened. “You keep track of what I order?”
The hint of pleasure in his tone unsettled her. She needed him to know that it didn’t mean anything that she did. “Of course. That’s my job, and I’m very good at it.”
“Touché,” he said with a smile.
“Anyway, my point is that you like more control than chaos in your life. Leaving love to fate seems kind of risky for you.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps I am a little bit of a control freak. But I do believe in soul mates and that there is someone out there for everyone.”
Her heart flipped. “So does that mean that if a relationship doesn’t work out, that person wasn’t our soul mate?” Not that what they’d shared was a relationship, exactly.
He took a long drink and then studied her, as if he was debating whether to answer. “Not necessarily,” he said after a few seconds. “It just means we weren’t ready to be with them. That’s what second chances are for, right?”
She’d never heard Dante be so thoughtful, so romantic. If she didn’t change the subject soon, her ovaries were going to explode.
“Okay, then,” she said after downing the rest of her brandy. “Moving on…you obviously know how my day went. What about yours? Sign any exciting contracts or land any big clients today?”
His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Since when do you want to hear about my job?”
She was just about to lie and tell him that she always enjoyed hearing about his boring corporate cases when she heard a ding. Dante took out his cell phone from his pocket, looked at it, made a face and then put it away.
Her curiosity got the best of her. “Who was that?”
“No one important.”
“What’s her name?”
“How do you know it was a woman?”
“Because if it had been a man, you would’ve told me.”
“Her name is Kimberly. We dated a while back.”
An unexpected sting of jealousy hit her. Of course she knew Dante had ex-girlfriends. Before her brother became engaged, he and Dante seemed to be competing for the title of L.A.’s Busiest Bachelor. She never knew the names of the women he’d bring into the restaurant. And she’d never asked. Perhaps she’d even cooked for this Kimberly woman. For no reason, that thought unsettled her. “And do you always get texts from your exes in the middle of the night?”
“Not all of them. Just her sometimes.”
“So what did Kimberly want? Although I can probably guess.”
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, exes are better left in the past.”
“I agree.”
“Then why did you go to Nick’s restaurant tonight?”
The question startled her. Where did that come from? “I already told you—my friends really wanted to go there.”
“And there were no other restaurants in Hollywood that you could’ve suggested as alternatives?”
Irritation prickled just beneath her skin. “What’s with the third degree?”
“If I’m going to try and get you out of this, Alexa, then I need to know the truth.”
“I already told you the truth. It was an accident.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I do say so. But it sounds like you don’t believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It’s going to matter who the police believe, you or Nick.”
Irritation turned into red-hot annoyance. “I’m not some jealous bitch who goes around destroying my ex-boyfriend’s property. And I didn’t go there tonight because I wanted to see him. I’ve been over him for a long time now.”
Dante raised his hands. “Okay, you made your point. Sorry I even asked.”
He seemed genuine, but that didn’t quell the uneasiness roiling her insides. She didn’t appreciate him second-guessing her decisions. Not when she was perfectly capable of doing it all on her own.
The muscles in her shoulders throbbed again, and she rolled them with a grimace.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I guess I must have pulled a muscle when I swung my bag earlier. Or maybe I’m still tense from everything.”
Dante set his drink on the table and then took hers away, too. “Turn around.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m going to rub you. I mean, I going to rub your shoulders for you.”
The slip of his tongue triggered all kinds of internal alarm bells. Dante’s hands on her sounded like both the best and worst idea ever. “Thank you for the offer, but no way are you giving me a back rub.”
“It’s just a massage, Alexa,” he said with a smirk. “Or do you not think you can handle it? I know I can.”
A challenge had been issued—triggering the reaction to prove him wrong. He knew her so well.
“I can totally handle it,” she said as she scooted her ass to the edge of the couch and turned around.
He sighed. “That’s not going to work. Stop being silly and let me do this right.” His hands gripped her arms, and he pulled her closer to him as he sank back into the corner of the couch and positioned her between his legs. “There. That’s better.”
It was better. It was also dangerous.
Her heart raced when his fingers rested on the tops of her shoulders. Gently, he began to squeeze and knead the taut muscles and nerves. His touch burned through the thin fabric of her T-shirt, and she swallowed her breath.
“You are tight,” he murmured as he spread his fingers up and down her arms and then back up to her shoulders.
It felt good. No, better than good. So much better than good.
“Mmm,” she mumbled.
“Just relax. Let all the tension melt away.”
She closed her eyes and leaned farther back until she was totally resting against his broad chest. With one deep breath, she inhaled his scent: woodsy, clean, manly. Her skin heated up a million degrees in response.
He deepened the pressure, and she melted even more.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned at the mix of pleasure and pain. His expert fingers worked the tightness steadily, and it began to dissolve into desire. It had been so long since he’d touched her like this. God, it felt amazing.
“Just like that,” she said on a sigh. “Please. Don’t stop.”
She felt him move behind her until his breath was hot against her ear. “Jesus Christ, Alexa,” he rasped.
A hardness poked against her hip, and she realized she wasn’t the only one on fire. Her hands moved from her own lap to h
is thighs, and she dug into the fabric of his pants. His breathing became more ragged, and she knew this was no longer just a massage.
He slid his fingers down her arms again, but this time they brushed the sides of her breasts. Her own breath hitched, and her nipples pebbled in response.
That was it. She was gone.
So much for impulse control.
“Dante,” she said in a whisper that sounded more like a plea.
In one swift movement, he twisted her around to face him and then guided her backward until they were both lying on the couch. His body covered hers, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them next to her ears. Dante groaned before capturing her mouth for a greedy kiss. She opened, her need to devour him just as strong. And when their tongues found each other, she whimpered with relief.
He kissed her thoroughly and expertly, never once loosening his grip on her wrists. Not being able to touch him both killed and thrilled her. He had total control. Why did she like that?
His lips moved to her neck, and she turned her head to give him better access. Every nip and every lick sent shivers of lust through her body. God, it had been ages since a man had done that to her. An ache pulsed between her legs. “Take me,” she whispered into the sofa cushion.
Dante stilled. She turned back and met his stare. Their ragged breathing filled the room. She was just about to ask him why he’d stopped when he lowered his head again so his face hovered only inches above hers.
“As much as I want to rip your shorts off and make you scream my name as you come all over my cock, we can’t do this right now.”
The crassness of his words shocked her. He’d never spoken to her like that before. A new thrill ran up her body, ramping up her need even more. She wouldn’t be denied—not now.
“But why? I thought this is what you wanted. I thought I was what you wanted?” And to make her point, she arched her body to grind it against his still hardened bulge.
“I do want you. Fuck, Alexa, I want you so badly,” he rasped, his breath hot and tinged with lingering traces of brandy. “But you’ve been through a lot tonight and the last thing you need is something else to regret.”