Page 38 of Depraved

I shrug and lean back onto the couch. “We already know this about me.”

“Hungry?” He says teasingly, letting his gaze drift over my body as he stands in the entry, never taking his eyes off me as the guys walk out.

“No, but I need to make a run to my apartment,” I say, brushing my damp hair over my shoulder, “I need something other than sweats to wear.”

“I’ll arrange it,” he answers, still admiring me.

Picking up my phone from next to me, I stand and head toward the stairs. “Bye, guys,” I call out, seeing them enter the elevator, with a string of goodbyes yelled back.

“I like you in sweats,” Dante remarks nonchalantly as I walk past him and the house gets quieter.

I stop at the staircase and look over my shoulder. “I like me out of them. We all need to make sacrifices, Dante.”

I crane my neck to make sure we’re alone, and he nods, so I push the bulky pants down and kick them off, leaving me in my boy shorts. He bites his bottom lip as I hang them over the railing and grin.

If I’m trying to get him to attack me, it’s working because Dante looks as if he’s planning to pounce, so I make my move and jog up the stairs quickly, holding back a laugh.

“Where are you going?” He grins as he watches me go up the stairs.

“To put my phone on the charger in your office,” I answer honestly, stopping at the top and glancing down at him.

He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me. “How do you know there’s one in my office, Billy?”

I can’t help but just smile and shrug before taking a step backward and turning around to walk down the hall to hook up my phone, hearing him yell, “Sneak.”

The familiar scent of him sucks me in the minute I walk inside his office. I make my way to his desk and see the plug I need nestled on his desk, neatly wrapped and tucked away. Hooking up my phone, I sit in the large tall-backed leather black chair and throw my smooth legs up on his desk, letting out a breath as I wait.

A piece of paper that has some meaningless scribble on it, clearly written in Italian, catches my eye, and I can’t stop my fingers as they dart out to trace the lines of his slashes and hard indentations.

He writes the way he fucks. Hard and purposeful.

Shit.I like him.

Too damn much.

I close my eyes with a small laugh because stopping this crazy train wreck seems impossible. The saying goes, “where there’s a will there’s a way,” but I don’t have the fucking will. I’ve never been so attracted to a person before in my life. It’s as if Dante knows all the right buttons to push.

And god help me if I don’t want him to push all my damn buttons…maybe at the same time, while he uses his tongue. Fuck my life.

A tiny voice in my head plays devil’s advocate.It’s not as if we’re going to fall in love in the next two weeks. What’s the harm?Still tracing the swirls and squiggles, I smile to myself because I don’t have a devil and an angel on my shoulders—I have two devils.

“You look good in my chair.”

I grin at his deep timbre and let my head fall to see him enter the office. “I feel like a boss.”

My brows give a little wiggle to accentuate my flirting.

“Mmm,” he hums deeply as he walks toward the desk. “You wanna be the boss?”

The way he looks at me. Fuck. Like he’s stripping me bare down to exactly where he wants me—it makes every part of my body light up.

“Yeah,” I purr, rubbing my crossed ankle up my other leg slowly and then back down.

Dante sits against the desk, pressing a finger against the paper I’m tracing, and pulls it until it’s too far for me to touch. He pulls it up, folding and putting it in his pocket.

“What would you order first? And remember, you have to be specific or shit gets lost in translation.”

He might be letting me take the reins, but we both know that in this game, Dante always runs the show. Just the way I like it.