Troublemaker: Rascals: Book Five

by McCoy, Katie

  That would have been the right thing to do.

  But I went to her anyways. I couldn’t stay away.

  It was the I don’t want to be alone part that had gotten to me. Because I didn’t want to be alone either.

  I knocked on her door, and it swung open almost immediately.

  “Dante!” Hayley was wrapped up in a soft, oversized robe, her eyes rimmed with red. She had been crying.

  I felt sick at the thought.

  “Dante, I—” she started, but I wasn’t about to let her finish.

  Instead, I took her in my arms and kissed her. Because there wasn’t anything I could say that would make any of this OK.

  She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her softly wrapped body against mine. I gave myself up to the kiss, to her. I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. I just wanted her.

  Lifting her into my arms, I carried her to the bedroom and laid her out on the bed. She didn’t stop kissing me the entire time, her hot, delicious mouth on mine easing some of the pain away—making me feel like I deserved her, even though I didn’t. I never would. But I’d hold onto it—hold onto her—for as long as I could.

  Pressing her back onto the bed, I tugged at her robe’s belt, untangling it until the whole thing opened up to me. Revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath. God, she was beautiful.

  I covered her body with mine, tracing the soft, sweet curves with my hands, unable to get enough. I feasted on her mouth, sliding my tongue along her bottom lip, just wanting to taste her sweetness.

  She squirmed beneath me, clearly eager for more. But I wasn’t in any rush. The first few times we’d been together, it had been a frenzy of lust and need. This was different. I wanted to take my time—to worship her the way she deserved to be worshipped.

  Kissing down the side of her throat, my hands came up along her hips and to her breasts. Fuck. Her beautiful, perfect breasts. I measured their weight with my hands before lifting them together, dragging my tongue along her cleavage. The desire to take her hard and rough was still there, but I forced that instinct back. Not tonight.

  Instead, I lavished her nipples with attention. Slow, torturous attention, pulling each hardened peak into my mouth and teasing her with my tongue and teeth. But gently. So fucking gently.

  “Dante,” she gasped, arching her back, pushing her breasts deeper into my mouth.

  God, I loved the way my name sounded on her lips. There was nothing sweeter.

  I moved downward, my tongue swirling around her navel, dipping into her perfect bellybutton before I went even further.

  By the time I had kissed to the apex of her thighs, I was so hard I thought I might explode. Kneeling between her legs, I had to pause to adjust myself, fearing that my cock might burst the seams of my jeans if I became any more turned on.

  Hayley was breathing heavily, her fingers fisted in her bedsheets when I put my mouth on her. The taste of her. Fuck. It was too much and not enough. I licked her, my tongue taking her deeply, exactly where my cock longed to be.

  Pressing her hips against my mouth, Hayley gasped as I licked her, teasing her clit with my tongue. We’d only been together a few times, but already I knew what she liked. What she needed. And I wanted to give it to her. Over and over and over again. I wanted to take her out of her mind with pleasure.

  I tasted her wetness, her desire, dragging a finger along the seam of her body before dipping inside. Her body clasped me tightly, and I could tell that she was close to release. I added another finger, which was welcomed just as eagerly, and she began to move against my hand and mouth, her hips finding the rhythm she needed.

  I let her ride me, eager for her to find satisfaction. Licking her, I lost myself in her taste, in her moans, in her pleasure. I captured her clit, pressing against it as I fucked her with my fingers until she let out a keening moan and damn near lifted both of us off the bed with the power of her jerking hips. Her orgasm was fast and intense and filled me with the kind of pride and satisfaction I’d never been able to find anywhere else.

  That would have been enough for me. I would have been able to walk away knowing that I had satisfied her.

  But Hayley wouldn’t let me walk away. I had barely sat back on my heels, when she was on top of me, her body tackling me to the floor of her bedroom. With small, hot, eager hands, she forced me onto my back and stripped me with a ruthless efficiency that had me breathless. Before tossing aside my jeans, she pulled out a condom, which she ripped open.

  My cock twitched as she reached for it.

  “Careful,” I warned, my voice tight and hoarse.

  I didn’t know how long I would last if she touched me. But, somehow, I managed to keep from embarrassing myself as she smoothed the latex down my hard length. I was about to roll us both over, to thrust into her, pulling her legs up and around my waist, when she did something I never expected.

  Hayley placed her knees on either side of my hips and straddled me. Taking my cock in her hand, she rose up over me and carefully positioned my cock at her entrance. Then slowly, so fucking slowly, she lowered herself onto me.

  My head fell back against the carpet as her hot, wet body surrounded me. She sank down until I was deep inside of her, her hips against mine.

  She let out a breathy sigh, her head back.

  I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life than the sight of Hayley, naked and flushed on top of me.

  I braced my hands on her thighs as she began to move, her hips searching for their own rhythm, her body seeking the right pace. I could only lay back and watch. But what a sight it was.

  Pleasure spread through my body as Hayley rode me, her perfect breasts bouncing in rhythm with her gliding hips. My nails were digging into her thighs but she didn’t seem to notice or mind, her head thrown back, her hair cascading down her back, a flush rising in her chest.

  It was almost too much—the pleasure too intense, too undeserved.

  She leaned down and found my mouth, her sighs of pleasure against my lips as she sped up, riding me harder and faster. I knew she was close from the way her eyes rolled back in her head. I watched as she exploded.

  She cried out as her hips found the release she had been seeking, her entire body clasping around me. I grabbed her hips with both my hands and thrust upward, finding my own satisfaction, my own release.

  Hayley collapsed on my chest, her hot face against my throat, her body still shaking.

  I closed my eyes, my own orgasm still vibrating through me. I filled my nostrils with her scent, clasped my arms tight around her, tasted her on my lips. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. I never wanted to let go of her.

  17

  Hayley

  I woke up in Dante’s arms. At some point, he had moved us both from the floor to the bed. My cheeks got warm as I remembered what we had done to get us on the floor in the first place. Dante seemed to awaken a new, different part of me, and I couldn’t be happier. After everything that had happened last night—all the panic and fear—seeing him had been the one thing to make me feel better. My entire world had felt off balance until he showed up at my place. He made me feel safe and happy. I loved being with him.

  I loved him.

  My entire body went still as the realization came over me.

  I loved him.

  I loved Dante.

  He let out a breath, his body curled around me, the warm breeze tickling the hair at the back of my neck.

  I was in love with Dante.

  It was a realization that should have terrified me. After all, this was Dante—a guy who seemed to run from commitment at all opportunities, a guy who always kept a bit of distance between himself and the people who cared about him. Falling in love with Dante seemed to be the fastest way to heartache, and yet . . .

  I wasn’t scared. Or worried.

  Because after everything that had happened last night, when I told Dante I needed him, he’d come to me. He’d made me feel safe and comforted.


  I rolled over to face him, marveling at his serene face while he slept. I wished he could look that way when he was awake. Wished that he could find some peace. Some calm in the storm of his life.

  Because of that, I didn’t wake him. Just watched him sleep for another hour. He slept deeply and soundly. I knew that when he woke up, he’d be worried about me and the gym, and I didn’t want to disturb the brief moment of tranquility that he had found in sleep.

  Eventually, he stirred, and I curled up against him, reveling in the heat from his body. I smoothed my hand across his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my fingers.

  “Good morning,” I said softly as he blinked awake.

  “Good morning,” he said, and I was gifted with a rare, open Dante smile.

  One that faded as he woke up more and remembered everything that had happened last night. I saw the realization flit across his face—the fear, the worry, the anger. All of it was evident in his expression, but he quickly smoothed it away before he turned to me.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice quiet. Gentle.

  “I’m fine,” I told him, hoping it would be enough to reassure him. “It wasn’t a big deal. I was able to call the fire department and they got there right away. I barely even inhaled any smoke.”

  He winced, and I realized I had taken the wrong tactic by giving him details about what had happened. I quickly sat up, leaning over him.

  “I’m fine,” I said firmly. “Completely fine.”

  He didn’t look reassured; in fact, he looked upset and distracted.

  “It was an accident,” I reassured him. “The fire. Me being there. Just a bad coincidence.”

  He didn’t say anything, just gave me a curt nod, his jaw clenched so tight that I could see the muscle jump. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore—just staring straight ahead.

  “I realized something,” I told him, wanting—needing—his attention.

  He just nodded again, but that wasn’t enough.

  “Dante.” I put my hands on his face and turned him towards me. “The fire made me realize something.”

  “What?” he asked dully.

  “It made me realize that I need to focus on the things in my life that matter. And that is you. You matter to me. A lot. Because—” I took a deep breath. “Because I’m falling in love with you.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, and so I kept talking.

  “I’m falling in love with you and I don’t want to hide it anymore. We should tell Emerson. Tell everyone.”

  Dante stared at me, and for one, long, horrible moment, I thought I had completely misread the situation. Completely misread him.

  But then a slow smile spread across his face. And this one was even better than the one he had given me when he first woke up. This was joyous Dante. He took my face in his hands and kissed me.

  “You agree?” I asked, once we had broken apart. “About telling Emerson?”

  “Fuck yes,” he said, releasing a sigh. “Let’s tell Emerson. Let’s tell everyone.”

  I grinned back at him, not minding at all that he hadn’t said anything about falling in love with me. This was Dante. I would take what I could get when it came to displays of affection. And right now, all I needed was that smile.

  Unfortunately, it faded quickly.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said.

  My stomach dropped, and I immediately started thinking that maybe there was someone else. Another woman. After all, we’d never said we were exclusive. Shit, Dante could be married for all I knew.

  I drew in a shuddering breath.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Last night,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t an accident.”

  Immediately I relaxed. There wasn’t another woman. Then his words sank in and I stared at him.

  “It wasn’t an accident?” I didn’t understand.

  “It was Nicky,” Dante said, his voice raspy with frustration. “He set the place on fire. I don’t know if he knew you were inside or if that was part of the plan, but the fire itself wasn’t an accident.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t understand someone doing that to another person. Especially someone who had been the closet thing Dante had had to family besides Bull and the Rascals.

  Dante could only offer a shrug. “He hates me,” he finally said, hanging his head. “Doesn’t think I deserve what I have.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I nearly saw red. “You’ve worked hard your whole life. You give back to your community. You help people. Nicky is jealous of you. He wants what you have but he doesn’t want to have to work for it.”

  Even though I was pretty sure that Dante knew it was true, I could also tell that it didn’t make him feel any better. I wrapped my arms around him, wishing there was something I could do.

  “You need to go to the police,” I told him. “They need to know that this was arson.”

  “They already know it’s arson,” Dante responded. “Going to them won’t help anything.”

  “What? Of course, it will,” I argued.

  He shook his head. “The system doesn’t work that way for guys like me.” He sighed. “If I go to the police without any evidence, there’s no guarantee they won’t blame me for the fire. After all, most arson cases are committed by the people who benefit from the insurance. Which would be me.”

  “But if you tell them about Nicky threatening you at the poker game—I’m a witness, I can tell them what I saw,” I countered, but Dante looked sullenly at the floor.

  “Nicky threatened me at an illegal poker game that I was hosting,” Dante reminded me. “Pretty sure the cops won’t look too kindly on that. Or me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said stubbornly. “You have to go to the police. You have to tell them what you know. And if you won’t do it for the gym, do it for me.”

  He looked up at that.

  “Hayley,” he sighed. “I don’t trust the system. Never had a reason to.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then,” I told him. “Because I trust them and we’re going to make sure they have all the information they need to get Nicky.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but I could tell I was making progress.

  “We’ll call my dad,” I said, knowing that mentioning my parents could either help or hinder the situation. “He’ll call one of his lawyer friends and they can go with us.”

  “I don’t like it,” Dante said, but he was listening.

  “You’ve done everything in your power to get away from your old life, right?” I asked him. “Well, this is the way you do it. You have to trust me and go through the system. But it’s your choice. I won’t force you.”

  He raised his eyebrows at that.

  “I want to force you,” I admitted. “But I won’t. You have to make a decision.”

  I watched him struggle to make a choice. Finally he blew out a breath and leaned his head back against the wall.

  “OK,” he said. “Let’s go to the police. Because if your being there wasn’t an accident, I couldn’t live with myself if Nicky hurt you again.”

  I was half worried that Dante would burst into flames when he stepped across the threshold into the police station—especially with the way he dragged his feet the entire way there—but we made it in and out fine.

  My father met us there with his best criminal law pal, and they talked both Dante and me through what would happen when they filed the report. The whole thing was easy and bureaucratic, and no one tried to arrest Dante, though I could tell he kept waiting for them to.

  “It’s in their hands now,” my father said as we stepped out of the precinct. “But knowing who Nicky is and his connection to you and the gym is a good break for them. Something to pursue.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Dante said respectfully.

  Dante had met my parents multiple times before, but always as a friend of Emerson’s. Even though we didn’t say anything explicitly about wh
y we were there together, I could tell that my father had pieced it together.

  “You did the right thing,” my father said, holding out his hand for Dante to shake.

  They exchanged handshakes and Dante’s phone buzzed.

  “It’s Bull,” he said. “He’s at the gym—or what’s left of it. Needs some help going through the wreckage. See what we can salvage.”

  “You should go,” I said. “I’ll finish up here and call you later.”

  He nodded, first to me and then to my father.

  “Good to see you, son,” my father said to him.

  “Thank you, sir,” Dante said before turning to me.

  I could tell he wanted to kiss me goodbye, but also that he knew he shouldn’t. I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “See you soon,” I whispered.

  My father waited until Dante was out of sight before he turned to me.

  “He’s a fine man,” my father said.

  “Yes, he is,” I agreed, even though I knew that wasn’t where the conversation was going to end.

  Because while my father had always liked Dante—he had liked him as Emerson’s friend. And even then, there had been hesitation. It wasn’t the way it had been with the other guys. Chase, Liam, and Sawyer were troublemakers in their own right, but they were acceptable kinds of troublemakers to both my mother and father. They were college graduates who held somewhat conventional jobs—though my father had always jokingly admitted to being on the fence about Chase, who brewed beer and bartended—and therefore wouldn’t have necessarily merited the same concern I knew my father was going to express to me now.

  I braced myself for it, knowing it was inevitable.

  “You’re a very generous soul, Hayley,” my father said. “Always wanting to see the best in people.”

  I’d heard this before as well. My parents had encouraged my charity and volunteer work, to an extent. They liked that I was involved in our community, but they wanted my involvement to stay limited to within the parts of the community they felt comfortable with. They wanted me to head charity fundraisers or raise money within my socialite circle. They didn’t want me volunteering at homeless shelters or actually building houses for Habitat for Humanity. They wanted me to send money instead of myself.