by Sofia Grey
“I knew you weren’t listening.” She tutted. “So I’ll tell you again. My producer is keen to introduce new talent on my show, and he’s already suggested getting a psychic to do phone-ins and the like. Dante is so visual, so out-there…it’s like Nigel Kennedy being a classical musician. Completely breaking the mold. And when you think of the other TV psychics, they’re all Mr. Normal. Katherine said she’d never seen anything like his séances. He could have massive potential.”
“He could be massively unreliable.”
“You’re grouchy today.” Her fingers danced higher and flirted close to my zipper. I shifted in my seat, instantly hot for her. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Josh?”
“I’ve got a better one.” I growled as she caressed my growing erection. “Let me give you a clue. Hotel and bedroom.”
“That’s two,” she laughed. “I think I get the picture. As long as I can have a nap afterwards.” She yawned.
“Why so tired, babe?” I felt a shaft of worry. Lifting her hand, I pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re not ill or anything?”
“I’ve not been sleeping very well. I think it’s all the stress catching up with me.” Her tone was careless, but she hesitated and I waited for her to finish. She pulled a little face and rolled her eyes. “I’ve been having nightmares about Gabe. How cliché is that? I think once the house is empty and we’ve moved in together, I’ll be fine.”
I seethed in silence. That bastard continued to terrorize her, even from the grave. I squeezed her hand. “Maybe we should ask Dante to summon him. Then we can tell him to leave you alone.” It was meant as a joke, but her face lit up.
“That’s exactly what I thought. Do you think he would?”
5.6 Katherine
Staring at Dante’s bike—his huge, scary black bike—I couldn’t believe I’d suggested riding on it. What was it about Dante? He’s the only person who’d managed to get under my skin, seen me afraid or upset. With luck, he wouldn’t have a spare helmet. He dug into the leather panniers and produced one. Carefully tucking my hair down into the hoodie, he showed me how to put on the helmet, and then made sure it fit well.
“D’you want to put your bag in here?” He held open the pannier, but I shook my head. The weight of the helmet made every movement seem exaggerated.
“I didn’t bring one.”
He frowned, then stripped off his leather jacket and held it out for me. I risked another headshake, but he was firm. “You’re not riding with me, unless you wear a decent jacket. Okay?”
I already wore Josh’s massive hoodie, but Dante’s jacket slipped over the top with ease. There was a hint of a smile on his face as he tugged up the zipper, encasing me in his clothes. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my erratic breathing. My heart hammered like a bird trapped in a cage. I hate bikes. The smell of worn leather filled my nostrils, and I sucked in another breath, closing my eyes briefly. Stay calm, Katherine, you can do this.
Dante was speaking to me, and I tried to concentrate. “Wilmslow, yeah?”
I managed a little nod. “It’s not far, twenty minutes tops.”
He glanced back at the café and winced, reaching up to rub his forehead. “You don’t have any aspirin do you?”
I licked dry lips. “I don’t have anything except my phone. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He gazed into the distance, still idly rubbing his temple. “Bit of a headache. It’s no biggie.” Looking back at me, his lips curled into a smile. “You look cool like that. Ever been on a bike before?”
“No.” Now that the moment approached, my teeth started to chatter. I clamped my mouth shut and watched as he wriggled into a faded hoodie from his pannier, then fitted his own helmet.
“I’ll go slow, and I’ll stay off the motorway. Just hold tight and try to lean with me.” The smile burst into a grin, and I watched, speechless, as he swung one leg over the beast and settled onto the seat.
He held out a hand to me. This was it.
I gulped and forced my legs to move, to scramble onto the bike behind him. The seat was narrow and too small. How would I stay on? Surely I’ll fall off? Warm hands closed around mine, tugging my arms forward to wrap them around his middle. I laced my fingers together, and Dante dragged the long sleeves down to cover my hands.
Broad shoulders were solid in front of me, and I clung to Dante like a limpet to a rock. He flicked something, and the engine roared beneath us. I swallowed my cry but couldn’t suppress the voice chanting in my head. Please don’t let me fall off. Please don’t let me…
Like a fairground round starting up, the bike shot forward, and I grabbed at Dante, desperate to stay on board. A girly squeal escaped, and I buried my face in his shoulder, eyes tight shut. I can’t do this. A wave of panic roared inside me. My fingers clawed at him, tangling in his hoodie, and I felt him squeeze my hand, just a brief touch.
I was overwhelmed with sensations. The throbbing vibrations from the engine. The heat from Dante’s body. The air rushing past. The swaying of the bike. The smell of his leather. Dante filled my nose and all my senses.
I remembered to breathe, and I opened my eyes. We’d not gone far. The main road was busy out of the city, but Dante drove slowly with the traffic, like he said he would. I haven’t fallen yet. I burrowed even closer and inhaled his delicious scent again. It wasn’t that bad.
City concrete gave way to suburbs, and I stayed safe behind Dante. As the suburbs opened out into countryside, I realized I’d been looking over his shoulder and watching. My face felt frozen, eyes watering and hair flying wild where it had escaped, but I felt more alive than ever before. When my heart raced now, it was with excitement. The steady throb of the engine reverberated through my body, and my blood pulsed with the vibrations. I even figured out how to lean into the corners. God, this could be addictive, especially since I had an excuse to hold onto Dante. My fingers lay inches above his jeans. How would it feel to brush them downward, to stroke the denim and imagine what lay beneath?
What the hell was I thinking? Something had happened to Sensible Katherine and turned her into Kitten, biker-chick. I must have banged my head. There was no other explanation why I would feel so comfortable with him—why I’d risk everything, just to spend more time with him.
We cruised past the ‘Welcome to Wilmslow’ sign, and my heart sank. I didn’t want this ride to end, not yet. I lifted my hand and pointed to a turning. Dante gave a quick thumbs up in reply, and the bike slowed, taking the corner at a crawl, dropping down the tarmac path toward the park. This would do nicely.
He slowed to a stop at the drop-down barrier, and the bike tilted. I snatched at him again, but he’d already kicked out the stand and planted one boot on the ground. I thought I’d gone deaf then realized he’d shut off the engine. A hysterical giggle bubbled up—I’d made it. He helped me to climb down, my legs stiff and aching as I shook out the muscles and staggered a couple of steps. Fumbling at the helmet straps, I dragged it back over my head and beamed. Wary eyes met mine as he took off his helmet.
We spoke together.
“Are you—”
“That was—”
He paused, and I leapt into the gap. “That was incredible! I never imagined… the feeling… I can’t…” Words jumbled up inside my brain, as though I tried to speak in a little used foreign language. Dante’s lips curled slightly, and I tossed my head back, running fingers through my crazy, tangled hair. I couldn’t articulate myself with words, but I knew how to show him what I meant. I hurled myself into his arms, hugged him briefly, and then pressed my icy lips to his.
“Thank you, thank you.” I spoke against his mouth, dropping tiny kisses across his chilled face.
“Any time,” he breathed and pulled me hard against him, hip to hip. “Glad, you enjoyed it.” He claimed my lips in a pounding, exuberant kiss. He devoured me.
I had to ask him now, before I lost my nerve. “Are you in a hurry to get back? Only, I’m not, you see. And this is a really lovely pa
rk if you fancy a walk? If you have time, that is.”
5.7 Dante
Kitten looked sexy as hell in my black biker jacket. Seeing her wearing my threads made me proud in a way I’d never felt before. I want her to be mine.
Mentally shaking my head to clear that curious little voice, I gazed at her, dumb with longing. Her hands rested on the back of my neck while her fingers caressed me, but her smile looked nervous. Amber eyes searched my face. I could spend another half hour with Kitten or go… nowhere. Finding a poker game tonight was close to critical on my priority list, but that was hours away. No contest.
She was perfection in female form, and she kissed like she was dying of thirst and I was a water fountain. My lips tingled, and I blew out a quick breath. “Sure. Is there somewhere I can leave Bonnie?”
We stood a little longer, pressed together and lost in our own world. Wild spots of color flushed her cheeks, and I loved the way her lips had that swollen, well-kissed look. I did that.
She sighed, tapped a playful finger against my nose, and giggled, before stepping back and carving a space between us. A mischievous smile lit up her face. “You got a couple of quid on you?”
I jingled my pocket. “Yep.” I tried to listen to common sense. She was hyped up from the ride. Nothing more than that.
“Come with me.” She stuffed her hands into pockets and set off down the slope. Intrigued, I walked alongside her, wheeling Bonnie on the tarmac path toward a small car park and an ice cream van.
“Hello, Frank.” She greeted the ice cream seller and ordered two cornets. Okay, the sun was shining, but ice creams in October? I tuned back in to her conversation and heard him agreeing to keep an eye on Bonnie and my gear. Kitten was smart as well as gorgeous.
We both opted for raspberry sauce and sherbet sprinkles and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to catch her hand. The way she inched closer to me and tangled her fingers in my own, suggested she felt the same.
Apart from a cluster of hardy dog walkers, we had the park to ourselves. I don’t do parks, but this one, with Kitten by my side, felt tranquil. Comfortable. No spirits waylaid me, the headache had ceased burning my skull, Kitten didn’t treat me like a leper. I felt normal. A regular guy out for a walk in the autumn sunshine with his girl.
“You have sherbet on your face.” Her eyes sparkled as she teased me, giggling as I fumbled to wipe it away.
“Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, but you have raspberry on your lip.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “I do not.”
I grinned and trailed one finger across her upper lip, showing her the jammy smear. “Yeah? I wonder what this is? Shall I clean you up?”
Another giggle as I moved in to kiss away the raspberry sauce. Playful at first, but within seconds I had her in my arms, tilting her head back and claiming her mouth. Little breathy moans urged me on as I lost myself in her kiss, squeezing her tight against me. God. I wanted her so badly. I pulled back. I can’t have her. Her eyes shone, and she looked divine, snug in the circle of my arms. My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to calm down, to gain some perspective. I swallowed hard, eased myself free, and snagged her hand again.
“Let’s walk some more.” My voice was hoarse. She nodded and followed my lead as we ambled down the path. “Do you live round here somewhere?”
“Yeah, not far away.” She stopped and turned to face the nearby stream. “See that hill over there? That’s the edge of my dad’s place.”
Her dad’s place. I frowned. “Do you have somewhere else?”
“No. It doesn’t feel like a home, it’s just somewhere I live. If you know what I mean.” She tugged at my hand, and we resumed our stroll. “See that one on the ridge?” Kitten pointed to a massive house that backed onto the park. I followed her finger. “That’s Suki’s house. Well, not for much longer, she’s moving down to London this week and it’s on the market. She’s really lovely, I’ve known her for years. And it’s so tragic about her husband.”
“Uh-huh.” I was only half listening and more intent on the way the sunlight played across Kitten’s hair, seeming to set it on fire. Backtracking, I realized what she’d said. “What do you mean, tragic?”
Wide, shocked eyes met mine. “He died a few weeks ago.”
O-kay, she’d lost me now. “Raphael—Josh—he’s not her husband?”
“No.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you don’t know! Gabriel Bridgewater? The racing driver?”
I shrugged. The name was meaningless to me. She took a quick breath and rolled her eyes. “They were in Belgium, and his car went off the road in a storm. Suki escaped, but he was terribly injured and died a few weeks later in hospital.”
“She looks pretty, ah, relaxed with Josh.”
“Yeah. I don’t think her marriage was all that happy. But even so, it can’t be easy being widowed so young.” She chattered on about Josh being some kind of private investigator, but my mind had already started to wander. Big house, empty while on the market, and close to Kitten’s place. Perhaps I could crash there for a few nights?
5.8 Katherine
It was a huge gamble, but I was sure my father would be out of the house with Marina so I took Dante home. He parked his bike outside the kitchen door and cracked some joke about using the staff entrance while I looked out for signs of trouble. I might be lucky, just this once.
Although I could hear the bustle of post-party-clean-up activities in the reception rooms, the kitchen was empty at the moment. Dante stood in the doorway, helmet under his arm, and stared at me, his expression unreadable. My high spirits dissolved as soon as I walked in.
“What?” I hated bringing friends home, hated the assumptions they made.
“Nice house.”
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Please don’t go yet.
“I could be wrong, Kitten, but I’m guessing you’re nervous about someone seeing me here?”
More like petrified. I drew in a shaky breath and tried to calm my pounding heart. After the kisses we’d shared, I wanted more. I reminded myself how Nanette had touched him and declared her interest. I also remembered how he claimed there was nothing between them. Dragging my attention back to his question, I managed a confident smile. “I’m not a child, Dante. I can bring my friends home if I want to.”
“Boyfriends in their Porsches.” A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not so many on Triumph Bonnevilles, I bet.”
I shrugged, unable to take my eyes off him. “Where do you live?”
He mirrored my casual shrug. “Here and there. I move around a lot.”
He looked entirely alien in the kitchen, like a beautiful angel that had fallen to earth. With a black motorcycle instead of wings. Dante stood tantalizingly close, and I tingled at the thought of his hands and lips on my body. Trying to retain an outward sense of calm, I slipped out of his leather jacket and draped it on the nearest chair, then tugged Josh’s fleece over my head. My ponytail snagged on the fleece, tangling me in the soft cotton depths and I yelped.
“Hold still, Kitten.” Cool fingers brushed my neck as he freed my hair, then hauled the sweatshirt away and liberated me. “Is this your boyfriend’s?” He stood, bare inches from me, holding the bunched hoodie against his stomach. I shook my head, my mouth dry and tongue useless. His head cocked to one side, silver eyes darting back and forth over my face. “I can’t resist you.” A whisper. My racing heart stepped up another gear as he raised one hand and slowly cupped it around my nape. A possessive gesture. I’d take offence if it were anyone else. Instead, I leaned forward to meet his lips with a vicious running commentary inside my head.
Was it really only two days since I’d met him?
I hungered for Dante in a way I’d never known before. If our lips had ignited last time…this was nuclear meltdown. He’s not relationship material. All my senses sang out. I burrowed against his muscled chest, my fingers curled into his faded sweat top, and I held on a
s though I would never let go. He groaned, a rumble deep inside his throat that I felt through my lips. My knees wobbled with the sheer giddiness of the kiss. My father will be furious. And all the time, one constant in this shifting vortex of sensations: Dante’s mouth on mine.
He might break my heart. This alone made me pause… But, I’d rather have a broken heart than never risk love.
Bold now, I released his hoodie and tangled my hands in his hair. I felt a swift movement—he pushed Josh’s top onto the chair and caught me with his other hand, slipping it just under my T-shirt at the back. I shuddered, a jagged shockwave rippling up my spine as his calloused palm burned into my skin. A few inches lower and he’d be inside my panties. I tried to press my body against his, wanting to be even closer.
“You have too many clothes on.” I’d already skimmed one hand down his back and felt several layers. A hoodie. A shirt. A T-shirt underneath.
“Some chick borrowed my leather.” His muffled voice made me snort with laughter. It dissolved into a moan when his lips, soft and warm, began to explore my jawline. His tongue licked the hollow in my throat. God. No matter what else happened, I had to have him.
The sound of distant voices broke into my thoughts. I didn’t think it would be my father, but even if it was only the staff, kissing Dante in the kitchen wasn’t my most sensible idea. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” His slow, sexy smile was all the answer I needed. I grabbed his hand and led him out of the kitchen, to the back stairs, and up to my bedroom.
Breathless and half giddy with desire, I led him into my room and kicked the door closed, leaning against it as I gazed at Dante. His eyes hooded, his focus entirely on me. Lifting his hands to gently cup my cheeks, his thumbs caressed my face. “Are you sure about this, Kitten?”
In reply, I hooked my fingers over the chain on his jeans and tugged him closer. “I know what I want.”
His breath hissed as one fingertip brushed his taut stomach.