Page 43 of Second Chance Daddy

Of course, even his damn furniture’s intimidating.

I ease down beside her, brush her curls back from her face, and press a kiss to her warm temple. Her breath’s soft and even. Out cold.

I could stay here, watch her sleep, crawl into the quiet. But the air shifts behind me—a ripple of heat and danger.

I turn, and there he is.

Dante.

Leaning in the doorway to his office, arms crossed, eyes shadowed and sharp, cutting through me like glass under bare feet.

His stare? Loaded. Knowing. Wary.

It drills into me, low and slow, pinning me to the moment until my pulse’s doing somersaults I can’t recover from. Slowly, I walk towards him, closing the door to let Aria sleep. Whatever this is, I don’t want her listening.

His voice drops low and lethal as it curls through the room.

He crowds me against the wall, his hands on either side of my head, his body towering over me, and my knees nearly crumble.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

And just like that—the floor’s gone. My lie teeters on the edge. And I’m standing in the wreckage of everything I’ve tried to keep buried.

12

DANTE

She’s cornered.

My arms bracket either side of her head, her spine pressed to the wall, and she’s looking at me like I’m both the storm and the shelter. All wide, frantic eyes and flushed cheeks, like running isn’t an option, but surviving this moment? Questionable.

I could push for answers. Press her. Tear the truth from her lips with the same hunger scraping my ribs raw.

But I don’t.

I just… watch her.

Christ—she looks good there. Eyes all blasted open like a little vixen. Her pulse jumps at her throat. Quick. Frantic. Giving her away when her face tries to stay calm.

I don’t push.

I let the silence do the work that questions can’t. Fuck, the FBI could hire me from all the tells I’m picking up on.

One, she wants me with every inch of her being. Two, she’s soaking already, as I feel her legs tremble. Three, she’s keeping something big from me, from how she forgets to speak when I ask her one simple question.

I watch her eyes dart everywhere but at me. She’s hiding something massive. Something that’s eating her alive from the inside out.

But none of that matters right now. Not with her pressed this close, trembling, reeking of that filthy, unmistakable scent that says she wants me to wreck her all over again.

Maybe I should care more about the secrets swimming behind those pretty eyes, ask about Gino and that kid sleeping in the office with eyes that mirror mine. Maybe I should be the good guy. Play this carefully.Be soft.

But I’m a red-blooded man standing inches from the only woman who’s ever set my world on fire—and if loving her came with a manual, it’d be titledno fucking regrets.

Instead, I lean in closer. Let my breath ghost over her neck. Watch her pupils blow wide, her chest rise faster.

“Tell me to stop,” I whisper against her ear, my lips barely touching the shell. “Tell me to back off, and I will.”

Her breath hitches. Her fingers twitch at her sides. But she says nothing. Not a fucking word.