“What is it?”
Again, she drew his gaze to her mouth by biting the side of her lower lip. He wanted it in between his own lips so badly, he ached with need—a sensation that was rapidly traveling lower than his mouth. There was no way he’d be able to hide an erection in this damn monkey suit, either.
Finally, she broke the moment by saying, “I never pictured you as a tuxedo guy. Something about the tattoos”—she ran a hand up his arm—“and the hair”—her fingers raked through it, and she smiled as part of it fell across his forehead again. “I don’t understand why, exactly, but the combination of all of it… You look really nice.” She stepped away, as if she’d done something wrong.
He caught her wrist. “Don’t.”
She blinked at his fingers. “Don’t what?”
Even her voice was tense now. He let go of her arm, then used a single finger to tip her chin back up. “Don’t move away from me when everything about you says you want to get closer. And if you don’t want that, don’t pretend you do. Just be real with me, Vicks. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you.”
Her stance shifted, as if she were rubbing her legs together. “And if I don’t know what I want?”
Seemed like he wasn’t the only one in need of a little adjustment. He wasn’t about to push her, though. He knew Vicky Stone well enough to be sure of one thing: if he pushed, she’d run away. “If that’s the case, know that I’ll be here when you figure it out.”
Chapter Ten
Everything was so much easier when she’d had Dante in her mental bad news lockbox. It wasn’t good, but it was easier. They could banter and even flirt so long as there were heavy doses of snark involved. But now that she’d left a door open for him, she couldn’t stop seeing him as something more.
She’d watched him all through the first act. He reacted to the music like no one she’d ever seen before. It was as if the notes seeped into his skin until he felt it straight in his soul.
She wanted to be the music…to touch him like that.
Instead, she’d spent the entire time resisting the urge to jump him right there in the private box. By the time the curtain came down, she was throbbing with need and so wet she worried about stains on the dress. Maybe she could sneak to the bathroom and at least put her damn panties back on.
Dante stood and stretched, arching his back. “Are you enjoying it?”
Still thinking about sex, it took her a minute to register what he meant. “The opera? Yeah. It’s lovely.”
“Really? Tuberculosis and unrequited love do it for you?”
“I…meant the music.” Vicky caught herself twisting her hands in the skirt of her dress, the fabric shifting to reveal a lot more leg than she planned. Another couple inches and it would be more than leg, too. “I’m…going to run to the ladies’ room.”
“So that’s it, huh?” His smile was lopsided this time, not quite cocky but not his full-on grin, either.
“What?”
“What you want.” He tipped his head toward her lap. “You’re even more on edge than you were before the opera started, but your answer is to go to the bathroom.”
Vicky’s hand was in motion, ready to straighten out her skirt, when she paused and looked around. “Dante, we’re at the opera. Even if I wanted something else, what would you have me do?” Give you a lap dance while the show goes on below? “I get that it’s a private box, but we’re still totally visible here.” To prove her point, she swept a hand toward people on the far side of the mezzanine with their cameras out.
Waving to the camera wielders, Dante pulled Vicky to her feet and smiled. “Pretend they can’t see us.”
“Easier said than done. I found out about Evan and Stasia because of some asshole with a camera. I’d prefer not to make that a family tradition. Mom got over him doing it. I don’t think she’d be so easy on me.”
“I didn’t say anything about getting caught on camera, Vicks. What I want to know is if you had nothing to worry about, what is it you’d want right now?” Dante wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
She couldn’t blame it on tricks of the shadows up here now. The bulge in his pants was a real thing. A really hard thing, and it was pressed against her, making her desire spin out of control. She barely breathed as she said, “I’d ask you to bend me over the rail and take me.”
Dante leaned closer, nuzzling her neck until her eyes rolled back in her head. “That’s just begging for people to ignore the stage, even when the lights go down again. Other options?”
One of his hands was on the small of her back, holding her tight to him. The other…the other was on her hip, less than an inch from the top of the slit in her skirt. Seconds away from touching her and dousing at least a little of the fire within.
The lights flashed overhead, signaling everyone to return to their seats, but that was the last thing Vicky wanted. If she had to be that close to Dante without anything to give her release, she was sure she’d go crazy. Consequences be damned, she needed him.
Trembling, she laid her hand over his, pushing it toward and then through the slit in her dress. He was right there. All he had to do was take what she was offering. “I don’t care how you touch me, Dante, but what I really want? I want you. That’s all. Nothing else.”
…
Dante didn’t consider saying no for even a second. Instead, the hand on the small of her back moved up to capture her neck and pull her toward him. He slanted his mouth over hers, catching the low groan as he pressed his thumb against her clit. Just then, the theater lights dimmed and the orchestra started up again.
Without a word, he led her from the edge of the box back behind the curtains that hid the less-than-attractive door from sight. There, he pinned her against the velvet-lined wall and trailed kisses over her shoulders and up her neck. “Lift up your dress.”
“Here? But the opera…”
He bit down on the sensitive flesh just below her earlobe and she moaned, the sound lost in the swelling orchestra music. “We can hear the opera just fine, which means no one will hear you.” He eased his hand through the slit and pressed his thumb against her clitoris again, rubbing in slow circles. “You lift up your dress, or the way I’m touching you right now is all you’re ever going to get. And we both want more than that.”
It was an empty threat, and he was sure she knew it as well as he did, but knowledge didn’t seem to matter much when compared to the risk of being wrong. Her hands shook the whole time, but Vicky gathered the satin in her fists, lifting it higher and higher.
He stepped back, drinking her in. The lighting back here was dim, just enough to cast shadows and highlights on her skin, but Dante swore he’d never seen Vicky more beautiful. The heels she wore caused her legs to go tight, muscles flexing in ways that made more blood divert to his dick. And then she moved the dress higher, uncovering her bare sex, and he almost lost it. She was smooth and perfect.
The throbbing in his dick no longer mattered. Besides, he hadn’t exactly brought condoms with him to the damn theater. But he had to have her, feel her, taste her.
He sank to his knees and kissed his way up her legs, opening them with gentle persistence. His thumbs massaged the crease between her legs, separating her thighs farther until he had enough access to slide through her wetness.
He tipped his head up to find her staring at him, her eyes hooded with need. “Lean into the wall, Vicks. Open wide. I want all of you on display for me.”
She didn’t question or even hesitate. It was as if all she’d needed was for someone—for him—to give her permission. Even in the dim light, it was obvious how slick her folds were. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her, to feel her squeezing his cock, but that could wait. Instead, he moved in, shifting his thumb to her clit while his tongue took its place.
She tasted like the world’s sweetest nectar. His tongue probed inside her, and her hips tilted toward him, opening even more. Thrusting a finger into her, he swept his t
ongue over her folds, flicking on the nub of her clit. She tightened around his finger, but she was so wet, he knew she could take more—probably wanted more. So he eased in another and then another.
Her hips ground against his fingers and mouth as he thrust and sucked on her clit. Wetness ran down his hand, and her breathing became more ragged and desperate. One hand left her dress, and she twined her fingers in his hair, urging him on. Knowing how much she was enjoying it, he would have done this all night. But then her grip in his hair tightened and her insides squeezed his fingers, and he knew she was close.
He nibbled and sucked on her, his mouth and fingers pushing her closer and closer to the brink as the music from the orchestra swelled. The crescendo outside hit just as she cried out from the orgasm. She bucked against his fingers, riding out the waves until she was spent. Her legs trembled, and she sagged against the wall. Dante was sure she would have slid down to the floor if he hadn’t helped keep her upright.
He allowed himself one last, lingering taste of her and then stood. With one arm around her waist to keep her standing, he used the other hand to straighten her dress. “Better?”
The smile that crossed her lips was dazed, her eyes more than a little glassy. “Amazing.” Then she shifted and blinked down at his crotch. “But you…”
As painful as it would be to get through the rest of the fund-raiser, he’d realized while feasting on her that he never would have been satisfied with a quickie behind the curtain.
No. He wanted what she’d promised him that night at the party. He wanted her with him, in bed, all night long. Only this time, his would be the right bed instead of the wrong one. This time, she’d come because she wanted him, and he was more than willing to wait for that.
Easing her back through the curtain, he whispered through the golden halo of her hair, “I’m hoping this wasn’t a one-time thing. I fully expect we’ll be taking care of me later.”
Twisting toward him, she covered his mouth with hers, her tongue tracing his lips, licking her own flavor from him. When they parted, her eyes were hooded with the kind of want that said she was ready to go again whenever he was. Then she reached toward him and rubbed her hand over the length of his erection. “Does this mean I’m special enough you want to show me your piercing?”
“Vicky, it means you’re special enough I want you to feel my piercing in every position you can think of.” And maybe a few that hadn’t been invented yet.
…
For the remainder of the opera, the only thing Vicky could think about was getting Dante alone. Her walls weren’t just cracking. They weren’t even starting to crumble. They’d quite simply vanished. Or he’d jumped over them. Or…something.
All she knew was every reason she’d come up with to keep her distance was gone. Even sitting in separate seats felt like too much space between them. She wanted to touch him and never stop.
By the time the second standing ovation was over, she was grabbing his hand. “So…are we done here?”
“Soon.” He ran a finger down her cheek and tucked her hair back. “Why do I get this sudden feeling we’re not going out anymore?”
“What do you mean?” Her heart started to race. Was he saying it was over? He couldn’t be saying that, could he? It made no sense.
Dante pulled her close, crushing her against a wall of muscle. “I’m saying that it seems like you’re suddenly wanting to stay in rather than go out tonight. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”
Oh. That kind of not going out. “Staying in for a while sounds good. Really, really good.”
Chuckling, he tipped her head back. “I’m sure we can work something out.” He planted the softest kiss on her lips, and she immediately thought of his mouth somewhere else. The time between leaving their box at the opera and getting on their plane to go home was the longest of Vicky’s life. Longer than waiting for the divorce to finalize. Longer than waiting for her first paycheck from Elegant Entertainment. Longer than going two years without sex.
She’d hoped to jump him in the limo, but they wound up sharing it with some other people on their way to the airport as well. By the time they boarded the plane, it was all she could do to let the pilot close the door and disappear into the cockpit before turning to Dante. “Mile-high club?”
Dante took her hand, turning it over to press his lips to the inside of her wrist and said, “Vicks, you have no idea how hard it is to say this, but no.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he covered it with a finger. “I have wanted to be with you since I met you. I don’t know how you felt back then, but I’ve never stopped wanting you. I finally get to have you, and I want it to be perfect. Even if it’s the fulfillment of a fantasy, on a plane isn’t good enough. You deserve the best, most romantic night I can give you. Will you let me do that?”
“I…I…” She wanted sex, and she wanted it now. The look in his eyes, though, told her this moment had the opportunity to mean more than stroking her screaming libido or completing her deal with Jade. Sleeping with Dante had the potential to be real. The thought alternated between terrifying and exhilarating, but every time she stopped to breathe, it landed on the latter. “Okay.”
“Good.” He leaned across the armrest and pressed his mouth to hers, the heat of the kiss finally making her give in to thinking of him as the Inferno. He could burn her up if he wanted, and she’d let him. “I have some calls to make. Why don’t you take a nap so you’ll be well rested by the time we get to my place?”
His place? He was taking her home? Sure, she’d see it eventually for party planning, but this was different. More. And from the sounds of it, she’d both need and want that rest he suggested. “Good idea. I’m just…going to use the restroom first.”
He didn’t say anything, likely realizing she never had gone at the opera, but her bladder wasn’t the reason she needed it now, either. As soon as she had the tiny door latched behind her, she sagged against the door, desperate to control her seemingly unquenchable need for him. She’d come so hard at the opera, and he hadn’t had any release yet. But now that she had him, she wanted more—she wanted him inside her in all the ways the opera hadn’t allowed. She wanted to make him feel at least a fraction of what he’d given her. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, she mentally repeated her new mantra.
If he can wait, I can wait.
If he can wait, I can wait.
If he can wait, I can wait…
…
“Yes, Ingrid, the delivery should be there within thirty minutes.” Dante glanced over at Vicky. She’d insisted she wasn’t tired, but about fifteen minutes later, her breathing evened out and he’d been able to make all the necessary arrangements. His housekeeper was both the first and now last call.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything else? I could put supper on for you.”
He didn’t know why, exactly, but the idea of Vicky’s first meal at his place being prepared by Ingrid was really bothersome. “No. That’s not necessary. If you could grab the best bottle of pinot gris I have and chill it, though, that would be fantastic.”
“Consider it done.” She paused as he heard the doorbell in the background. “The delivery is here. Do you want me to take care of it or have them set everything up?” Dante could hear the distaste in her voice at the second option. Ingrid had very strong opinions about workers in the home. Namely, the fewer, the better.
“If you don’t mind…”
“Not at all.” He could almost see her puff up with pride.
“We’re landing soon. I’ll text when we’re almost there.”
“Everything will be just as you requested, and I’ll sneak out like I was never here.”
“Thank you, Ingrid.” He thumbed off the phone.
Ingrid had started out as a once-every-other-week housekeeper years ago. Now, he didn’t know how he’d keep his place up without her. There was no doubt in his mind that she would take care of everything.
Well, almost everything.
The
aching bulge in his pants wasn’t her domain. It would be Vicky’s soon enough, but if he didn’t let off some pressure, he was going to embarrass himself.
Quietly as possible, Dante made his way to the tiny bathroom and locked the door. Even unzipping his pants was torture, the zipper scraping gently against his engorged cock as he slid it down. For a second, his eyes rolled back as his balls shifted, then he sucked in a breath and wrapped a hand around his shaft. He needed to do this, if only to get his body to relax.
Leaning against the wall, he stroked and imagined the way Vicky had looked at the opera, how she’d stood wide and willing before him. How she’d moaned and wrapped her fingers in his hair. The moment when she’d started to buck against him and cried out as she came.
Dante could barely see straight between the images and the pain in his balls. What he really wanted was her in here with him. All it took was the thought of her mouth on him instead of his hand, and he came with so much force he saw stars.
Breathing hard, he was still bracing one hand against the wall when the intercom dinged and the pilot announced they were circling to land. It seemed he had finished just in time to zip up and get back to his seat next to the woman of his dreams.
The woman who was rapidly becoming his reality.
Chapter Eleven
By the time Dante unlocked the door of his Nantucket-style house, Vicky was shaking. Then she saw the rose petals on the floor. “Dante?”
He was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Follow them. I’ll be there in a second. I have something to grab first.”
It didn’t take more than a gentle nudge to get her moving. The petals were in shades from the palest pink she’d ever seen to a deep, dark red. They formed a carpet over the hardwood, straight up the stairs and around the landing to a slightly ajar door. Small motion-sensitive lights had come on as she moved, but the path now seemed to lead into the dark.
She cast a glance at the door, then back the way she’d come. Dante had said to follow the rose petals, but did he mean for her to go inside or wait here?
Blackmailed by the Hero Page 10