WickedTakeover

by Tina Donahue

  Aw. “Are you hurting?”

  “What do you think?” He gestured to his cock, the skin so stretched it was red and shiny.

  “I swear I’ll hurry.” She tugged on the foil wrapper. It wouldn’t open. “Damn.”

  “Give it to me.”

  She pushed his hand away and used her teeth to tear the packet open.

  “Or not,” Dante panted, pushing his fingers through his hair.

  Looking up at him, she smiled, tenderness and lust coursing through her. “I’m here to serve you.”

  “Whatever you want, babe. Just make it fast.”

  She giggled and cradled his cock.

  Jeezus. Dante’s body was so primed and needy, his boys plumped to the point of bursting while his rod was rigid enough to deliver some serious pleasure. “Hurry,” he gasped.

  Lauren stroked his length. He shuddered. She ran her fingers over his crown, tearing a groan from him.

  “You all right?” she whispered.

  “Fuck no. Put the rubber on me, or I will.”

  She pushed his hand away again and kissed his belly. Dante’s head fell back on his shoulders. His chin pointed at the starry sky. He exhaled loudly and spoke through his teeth, “Lauren.”

  Her fingers paused on the tiny fissure in his crown, the pre-cum seeping out.

  In another sec, he was going to lose it. “I. Am. Going. To. Come.”

  “Sorry.” She licked the pearl of moisture away, paused at his tortured gasp then eased the rubber down his length.

  Finally. In a flash, Dante had Lauren on her back, his hand trapping both her wrists. “You move,” he warned, “you say anything and you don’t get this.” Lifting his cock, he ran the tip of it up her slick cleft.

  She wrapped her legs around his lean hips—moving when he’d told her not to—then whispered, “Sí, por supuesto.”

  “What?”

  She repeated the phrase. Yessir, in Spanish.

  Dante sat back on his heels, impressed with her knowledge and pronunciation. Nearly perfect. “Since when do you know my language?”

  “I looked it up on the Internet.”

  God love her. She hadn’t holed up in the office merely to look for jobs or to sell the place…to take herself away from him. The reminder hit Dante like a punch to his gut. He couldn’t move or breathe.

  Lauren stopped wiggling beneath him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he lied quickly and entered her in one thrust, needing to be as close as possible for as long as he could.

  She tightened her legs around him and lifted her hips, welcoming him into her body.

  Dante accepted her invitation without pause and pumped slowly, each thrust prolonged. His gaze on hers never strayed. Nor did Lauren’s with his. They smiled at times then grew solemn again, the moment unbelievably sacred for Dante as he drowned in her softness and warmth, the woman she was, the person he needed.

  He longed for these moments to last even as he feared they wouldn’t.

  Chapter Nine

  They made love as they hadn’t before. It was still lusty as hell, but to Lauren it was also deeper, richer than it had been.

  She simply couldn’t get enough of Dante, her addiction to everything he was both frightening and wonderful. He seemed as eager to be with her. Once they’d climaxed, sweaty and exhausted, they clung to each other. Not entirely as friends.

  At least not for her. Since their evening on the carousel, something had shifted for Lauren. Her desire had turned soul deep. Dante offered her comfort she’d never known from a guy. She’d always been practical about life and especially love, never allowing herself to plunge too deeply into anything.

  This wasn’t any different. She’d have to fight her feelings and would. Tomorrow. This evening was too precious to resist or ruin by saying the wrong thing.

  When they finally decided to make dinner, Dante thankfully told her what to do. They held hands while Lauren ate the best steak she’d ever tasted. Dante had also grilled corn on the cob and baked garlic bread.

  He wasn’t only the most gorgeous man she’d ever known, but he could also cook real food.

  You are so screwed.

  Tomorrow. Right now, Lauren fed him the last of the bread then licked a dribble of butter from the side of his mouth. He tapped her naked toes with his.

  The evening had cooled somewhat, the mild breeze brushing past the vegetation, gently lifting the ends of their hair. As far as Lauren knew, no boats had gone down the Waterway since they’d been here. If they had, she’d missed them. Not only was her full focus on Dante, she’d finally realized that even the most persistent voyeur would need night vision goggles to see anything clearly in the dim lighting.

  “Dessert?” Dante asked, pushing to his feet. “There’s ice cream in the freezer. Fresh fruit in the fridge.”

  “In a minute.” She squeezed his fingers. “I don’t want to eat all of Scott’s food right away. That wouldn’t be polite. Let’s wait a bit.”

  Laughing, Dante sank back to his chair. “Trust me, Scott won’t mind. He’s a good guy.”

  “I get that.” She hesitated then said what she’d been thinking since Dante had shared his past with her. “I totally understand why you quit the firm you worked for. I’m sure they were all about billable hours and the bottom line. After you met Scott though, why didn’t you hook up with him and fight the good fight for plaintiffs?”

  Dante glanced past her to the house. Whatever he was thinking, he kept well hidden.

  Lauren cursed her big mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s all right.” He ran his thumb over hers. “Scott offered me a partnership in his firm.” Dante shook his head. “Turned him down. I needed a break from law badly.”

  She sensed he wanted to punish himself for his earlier cases and victories. “Will you ever go back to it?”

  He got an odd look on his face then smiled broadly, masking whatever he was thinking. “And leave you alone to run the parlor? Who’d keep me in line at a law firm?” He kissed her knuckles. “Who’d order me not to flirt with or fuck with the clients?”

  “Hire Jasmina. Her balls are as big as yours.”

  He barked a laugh.

  “I want what’s best for you,” Lauren murmured. “If you truly hate law then—”

  “I don’t hate it. I needed a break and I’m taking it. Tattooing has always fascinated me. I’m not as artistic as my brother Hector or Van Gogh—hell, those two are gods—but I do all right. I enjoyed learning how to ink. I met Frank at a tattoo expo. We got to talking and he brought me on at Wicked Brand. It all worked out.”

  Lauren didn’t comment.

  For the first time ever, Dante looked embarrassed, as though she’d read his soul and knew he was lying to himself. He shrugged it off, grinning good-naturedly. “Why all the talk about law? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Never,” she whispered.

  His smile faded. He seemed to want to say something but didn’t, waiting for her.

  Lauren couldn’t keep her news in any longer. She didn’t want to be dishonest with him. “I have an interview Friday.”

  Surprise and something else that she couldn’t read crossed Dante’s face. The moment passed. He grinned even broader this time. “That’s fucking great. What’s the job? Is it what you’re looking for?”

  The position was way better than her wildest fantasies. Now that her dreams were almost within reach, Lauren could do little more than shrug. “Sure. It’s a senior HR position with a huge company.”

  “Jesus, that’s wonderful.” Dante left his chair and pulled Lauren into his arms, hugging her.

  She held him as hard as she could, fighting tears as she had earlier. “I might not get it.”

  “Bull.” He smacked her ass. “No more talk like that. The second they make you an offer, I want to know. I’ll give you one helluva going-away party.”

  Lauren swallowed and tightened her arms around him. Dante did the same with her
. She figured now was the perfect opportunity to tell him about the potential buyer’s interest in the parlor, dump everything on him at once, but couldn’t bring herself to do so.

  Their silence stretched out and lingered, the previous magic gone. They dressed, cleaned up and finally left.

  Each time Lauren caught Dante studying her, she forced herself to smile. He did the same when he caught her watching him, his grin not quite genuine. She dropped him off at his modest apartment complex a few blocks from the parlor. Before he got out of her car, Dante kissed Lauren deeply. Longingly, she thought.

  Or maybe she hoped. They were good friends. That’s all.

  She waited for him to look back at her before she pulled away. When Dante reached his front door, he did. His face was too shadowed for Lauren to catch his expression. She wondered if it was as sad as hers then told herself it surely wasn’t. To him, she was merely a fun buddy who would be moving on.

  He lifted his hand in farewell.

  She did the same.

  When Lauren got home, she sat on the sofa unable to sleep. She reminded herself of what she had to do to pull herself out of the financial hole she was in—get a great job, pay off her bills, move forward rather than letting the present sway her.

  Refuse to dwell on the past.

  The box she’d gotten from Frank’s attorney was on the lower shelf of her TV stand. Lauren had shoved it there, not interested in anything it contained, especially Frank’s note to her.

  She rocked on the sofa, thinking about tonight with Dante, the last she’d have with him. Even if she didn’t get the job on Friday, Lauren couldn’t keep doing this. It hurt too badly. She needed him too much. Just as her mom had needed Frank. Look how that had turned out. Uh-uh. That wasn’t for her.

  On a sigh that was pissed and sad, Lauren pulled out the box and put it on the cocktail table. For minutes, she simply stared at the stupid thing, fighting anger and tears, her longing for stuff she’d always wanted but would never have. A man to love forever. A home. A damn family.

  She yanked off the top of the box and tossed it aside.

  Frank’s glasses were on top of a stack of papers. Next to them was his watch. Proof that he’d existed.

  Her throat tightened. She swallowed down grief she hadn’t expected to feel and rifled through the legal documents, searching for his note. Once she’d found it, minutes passed before Lauren had the nerve to open the damn thing.

  She warned herself not to expect much. This was from Frank, after all. The man who’d caused her mom countless tears and a hard fucking life as a single mother.

  Renewed outrage washed over her, giving Lauren the courage she needed to read the stupid thing.

  I was wrong, it began.

  Her mouth quivered. She took a deep breath, wanting to crumble the note and throw it away. She needed to hold on to her anger, but couldn’t finally. As it drained from her, all Lauren felt was tired and sad. Sagging into the sofa, she read the rest of what he’d written to her.

  Nothing I can say will ever make what I did better. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and would never ask for it. You have every right to hate me.

  Please don’t let what I did to you and your mother get in the way of what will make you happy.

  There are good men out there, Lauren. I wish I could have been one of them.

  I wish I could have been the father you needed and deserved.

  Frank

  She covered her face with her hands.

  Chapter Ten

  By Friday, Lauren was so strung out, she couldn’t relax. After her job interview, she had an appointment with the potential buyer for the parlor. They’d agreed to meet at Starbucks. She should have been doing cartwheels down the halls rather than wanting to throw up.

  She still hadn’t told Dante or the rest of the team about the buyer, only her interview. Every time Jasmina saw Lauren, she gave her a hug and words of encouragement. Even Van Gogh had mumbled, “Good luck,” before he ducked into his workstation.

  Dante kept glancing into her office each time he passed. Finally, he came inside. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your interview?”

  “I already am.” She’d worn her suit to the parlor. Every time she went up front, customers stared at her outfit then avoided eye contact, no doubt worried she might try to convert them to some fire-and-brimstone lifestyle. Lauren couldn’t blame them. After so much time, she felt weird wearing corporate attire. Phony somehow.

  “When’s your appointment?” Dante asked.

  “Thirty minutes.”

  “And you’re still here?” Grabbing her hand, he pulled Lauren out of her chair. “Go.”

  “It won’t take me that long to get there. It’s not that far away.”

  “You can use the time alone in your car to calm down.”

  “Do I look unglued?”

  He regarded her for a long moment then murmured, “You’re beautiful.”

  Oh god, she was going to cry and fuck up what little makeup she had on.

  “Hey,” Dante said, his expression confused and worried. “That’s a compliment.”

  “I better go.” Lauren grabbed her purse then tossed it on the chair and threw her arms around Dante. Hugging him hard, she whispered, “Thanks for everything.”

  He held her gently as though she might break, or he was already putting distance between them. “You’re going to do great. They’d be fools not to hire you.”

  She snuggled closer. Dante allowed it for a moment then eased her away. “Go,” he said. “This is your future.”

  Right. The parlor wasn’t. He wasn’t. Lauren knew that but didn’t want to hear it. Trying to hold herself together, she grabbed her purse again and left.

  Dante watched Lauren from the front window of the parlor. For the last few minutes, she’d been in her car staring at nothing or maybe everything—like her dream of a new job, having enough money finally, getting her life back on track, being able to escape this place. She looked so fucking unhappy, he figured she was picturing it going up in smoke because her interview hadn’t worked out.

  It couldn’t be that she’d miss their days together here.

  They’d had wicked fun, no denying that. Too easily, Lauren had become a huge part of Dante’s life that he’d never regret. She got him. He got her, except when he hadn’t a clue what she was thinking.

  Maybe he should have asked more questions…or not.

  Hell, it was time for her to move on. He couldn’t ask her to stay even though he wanted that. It wouldn’t be fair. He’d be feeding his needy soul while neglecting her happiness. How long would a relationship like that last? Could they even have one after she left? Dante wondered if she’d want to date him, hang out, something.

  His gut twisted at the prospect of Lauren going along with his plan for a while but eventually turning him down in favor of another guy at her new job. They’d have time to bond at work and maybe play adult games. Him telling her not to wear panties and to always be wet for him or there’d be hell to pay. He might paddle Lauren in her new office, the ladies or men’s room before hours, the staff break room, the stairwell, the—

  Shit. You’re losing your mind.

  Dante knew he should have gone back to his station to do the parlor’s endless paperwork but couldn’t until Lauren pulled away. Come on, move. Unless her appointment was just down the street, she’d have to hustle. If she didn’t turn on her car soon and put on her air conditioner, she’d probably pass out from the heat. He craned his neck to see if her face was turning red.

  Jasmina joined him at the window. “What are you doing?”

  Grieving and behaving like a fool. Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing.”

  She looked where he had. Her eyes nearly popped out. “Wow. Lauren’s still here? Shouldn’t she be at her appointment by now? Is she having car trouble?” Jasmina elbowed him. “Go out there and help her.”

  The help Dante had in mind wouldn’t get Lauren to her interview. He’d
offer to split his salary with her and throw in his pickup so she’d stay at Wicked Brand, which was insane.

  “Wait.” Jasmina grabbed his arm even though he hadn’t moved. “She just started her car. She’s pulling out of her spot. Whoa, thank goodness.” Jasmina squeezed his arm. “She’s on her way.”

  She was leaving. One day soon, she wouldn’t be coming back.

  On the drive to her appointment, Lauren tried to cheer up. If by some miracle she got the job, it didn’t mean she was going to another planet. She’d still be in the area, not all that far from Wicked Brand.

  If Dante didn’t mind altering his schedule a little, they could have lunch once a week. After the parlor closed for the night, they could get together. Sure, it’d be late but she’d take a nap after work in order to be fresh for him. On the weekends, they could stay in bed, snuggled together, having fun, maybe even falling in love unless he had to work, which he usually did. The parlor was busiest on Saturdays and Sundays. That wasn’t likely to change once it got a new owner.

  She chewed her lower lip. Okay, so they’d have a lot of hurdles to overcome but getting together could be doable if they wanted that. It might even be fun until it became too much of a hassle and he drifted away, which any sensible guy would. Too many other women were prettier than she was, built better and had schedules they could accommodate to his.

  Lauren’s chest tightened so much it hurt. Ignoring it, she reached the building where she was going to interview. The last time she’d been here, there had been five other applicants vying for the same position. To her surprise, the lobby was empty today except for the receptionist. The young woman offered a welcoming smile after Lauren introduced herself.

  “Please have a seat,” she said. “I’ll tell Ms. Ivers you’re here.”

  Lauren had barely sat when Karen came out of a side office, dressed impeccably, looking like she ruled the world despite being no more than thirty-five. She offered a warm smile that enhanced her natural good looks and put out her hand. “Lauren. So good to see you again. I’m truly glad you could make it.”