Page 55

Rachel

I laid in bed in that awkward stage of not being quite sober, but not quite drunk either.

I had come upstairs and immediately threw myself down on the bed.

I woke up hours later, face down, dry mouth, and wide awake.

Enough time had passed between now and my last drink to clear my thoughts, and I didn’t like any of the memories that came back to me.

After brushing my teeth, and changing my clothes, I filled a glass with water, already knowing that this calm was deceptive, and I’d wake up tomorrow with a raging hangover, and climbed back into bed.

Not that it did any good. I stared at the ceiling, picturing Dante’s face as I hurled insults at him.

I cringed as I remembered us both yelling at each other in front of his club.

His intentions had been good ones. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know each other better, but we both went for the jugular, wanting to pick at the scars that weren’t fully healed, rather than focusing on the smaller stuff first. And, of course, when we were hurt, we lashed out, each in a competition to hurt the other more than we were hurting ourselves.

How many more times were we going to go at each other? How many more rounds did we have in us?

I stared at the ceiling, replaying the entire evening in my mind, when I heard the door creek open, letting in a stream of light, before it was blocked out by a formidable shadow.

I smelled him before I could see him properly – that unique smell that was half leather, half man, whole Dante. My body reacted immediately, jumping in excitement, my heart rate accelerating, my mouth drying up, my skin tingling.

God, I hope it wasn’t as obvious to him as it was to me how easily my body responded to him on such a primal, physical level.

But what does he want?

I wasn’t up for round two so soon. It would take me a while to recover from the effects of the alcohol, and no doubt I’d let my temper get the best of me and say something I’d really regret.

I heard Dante moving around, but I didn’t dare turn my head to look at him and let him know I was awake.

It was only when the bed dipped on the other side that I realised he was climbing into bed with me and I came to life.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hissed, pushing on his back. Only to snatch my hands away as they came into contact with his bare skin.

“I’m getting into bed and going to sleep, Rachel. Isn’t it fucking obvious?”

“Well, you’re not sleeping here,” I huffed, bracing myself to prepare for the feel of his muscles under my hands as I pushed at him again. “You have your own bed.”

“My own bed that stinks of smoke. I’m not sleeping there. If you don’t want to share a bed with me, you can go and sleep in it. You’re the one who caused this issue.”

“Go and sleep on the sofa!”

“Be for real right now,” he chuckled softly, and pulled the covers up over his lower half, completely oblivious to my shoves.

“This is ridiculous,” I said, flopping down on my side and shoving him so more. I pulled away sharply, almost falling off the bed as I made contact with his bare hip.

He laughed, “I’m naked, Rachel. By all means, keep pawing at me. I won’t say no.”

“Why do you have no clothes on?”

“I’m a 34-year-old man. Did you expect me to have baby shark pyjamas?”

“There are more options between nude and baby fucking shark!”

“I’m too old to learn them. Good night, Rachel.” He said and rolled over, presenting me with his back.

I sighed heavily, knowing I wasn’t winning this argument. My back was too sore for me to sleep on the hard sofa, and I didn’t want to wake up with a hangover in the morning only to see Big Mama glaring at me. I had no choice but to put up and shut up.

I laid down, careful to lower my body down on the bed, inch by painful inch, so I didn’t so much as brush against his leg hair, never mind make contact with any of his skin.

I rolled over onto my side, so we were back-to-back, and tucked my arm under my pillow, willing myself to fall asleep as fast as possible.

I could feel the heat radiating off his body, burning straight through my nightdress. I could hear his steady breathing, in complete contrast to my own wild breathing that wouldn’t seem to calm down. There was no way he couldn’t hear the gulping breaths I was drawing in.

For fuck’s sake! I hissed to myself as my legs began twitching – I always got restless legs when I was stressed. It’s all in your fucking head! You’re fine. Your legs are fine!

But they weren’t fine. It felt like I had a million centipedes crawling through the veins of my legs. I wanted to move them, but I didn’t want to keep drawing attention to myself.

The more I tried to stay still, the more my legs jerked. My entire body stiffened, and still my legs burned with the need to move.

I tried rubbing one foot over my other leg, but all that did was raise my ass up, bringing it closer to Dante. I soon put an end to that and put my leg back down.

I rolled my eyes and stifled a groan, feeling as though my legs were being stabbed by a thousand needles.

This was fucking torture!

“I’ve had women twitch less during their tenth orgasm than this. Stay fucking still!” Dante hissed at me.

“Go to your own bed if you don’t like it!” I snapped at him in a whisper. He rolled over, tucking himself close to my back, and stroked his hand down my leg. I stiffened and tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me back into his chest, holding me steady.

“Shh. Stay still. I can help.” He whispered against my cheek and went back to stroking my leg. Only this time, he dug his fingers into my skin, rotating his fingertips as he did so.

“I can do it myself.”

“And I’d like to get some sleep sometime tonight. Just accept the massage, and we’ll both be much happier.”

I said nothing and let him get to work. He expertly massaged my legs, his fingers dancing over my skin until I forgot all about my restless legs, and thought of nothing but Dante’s hands on me, of his fingers delicately stroking me.

I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself from groaning out loud when I thought of how if his hands just slid further up, he’d be able to stroke me where I was craving him, where I had grown wetter and hotter for him just from a mere touch of his hand.

I thought of how he could massage the inside of my legs, opening them wide for his entry.

How this time, I wouldn’t run. I’d take what he had to offer and –

“Better?” Dante asked suddenly, making me jump out of my skin as though he could read my thoughts.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “Thank you.”

“Good,” he whispered back and pulled away from me.

He didn’t roll over, but no part of his body was touching me anymore, and I hated the way that made me feel.

In spite of our height difference, he fit against me perfectly, my body moulding into his like a matching jigsaw piece. “Goodnight, Rachel.”

“G-goodnight, Dante.”

I swear I heard the bastard chuckle. He knew what he was fucking doing!

Every breath he took fanned against the back of my neck.

Every beat of his heart seemed to resonate with my own.

I was so aware of him; I knew what his body was doing more than my own.

My skin tingled, craving his touch. I burned for him.

But pride wouldn’t let me do anything more.

I bit down on my lip once more and almost banged my fist in frustration.

How was he so unbothered by all of this?

Why wasn’t he this affected by me as I was him?

He coughed gently, and I was so tightly wound up, I jumped, suppressing a yelp of fright just in time. I shuffled further away from him, clinging to the edge of the mattress to stop myself from falling off, and forced my eyes shut.

Count fucking sheep, Rachel. Count sheep.

I tried to remember some breathing techniques my old high school councillor had taught me, breathing in deep, holding it for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

A few rounds of this had me calmed down enough to not be so tightly tensed up it was bordering on painful, but then Dante shifted in his sleep, and I was a tight coil once more.

When will this night fucking end?

I forced myself to stretch my legs, instead of being curled into a ball, and once again, made contact with Dante’s skin. The fucking behemoth was everywhere, taking up the entire space!

Dante sighed, and I felt him sitting up.

“You,” he said, grabbing hold of me, wrapping his arm around my stomach, and rolled me over onto my back.

“Are one stubborn little bitch.” I saw his grin in the darkness as he shuffled our bodies until I was underneath him.

“I’ve been hard as a fucking rock for the past half hour.

Ever since I saw the mere silhouette of your body in the darkness, I’ve been fucking hard.

I can’t spend the night like this, Rachel.

I need to fuck you. I want to fuck you. I need to feel you underneath me.

I need to hear you moaning my name. I need all of you so fucking badly, its driving me half mad.

” He was propped up on one arm, looking down at me as his other arm stroked over my stomach.

I looked at him, my breath catching in my throat.

“If you want me to go, Rachel, I’ll go.” He lowered himself down, burying his face in my neck, delivering small kisses all the way up to my ear and back down again.

“But if you want me to stay, please, for the love of God, touch me. I’m burning for you.

I need you. I can’t stop fucking thinking of you.

Every time I’m awake, you’re on my mind.

Every time I sleep, you’re haunting my dreams. I spend all my time thinking about you, and what you’re doing, wishing you were with me instead.

I’m obsessed with you, addicted to you, and I never want to be cured. ”

“Dante,” I breathed, reaching up and grabbing his face, lowering it down to mine. I hesitated at the last second, my lips hovering beneath his, but he closed the gap, capturing my lips with his own.

Just as I relaxed underneath him, the door flew open, and Dante’s dad stood there.

“Church,” he snapped, slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck,” Dante hissed, climbing off me without hesitation.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go to church,” he said, pulling his trousers back on.

“Right now?”

“That’s the way it works,” he said shortly, searching for his shirt.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m a brother first and foremost, Rachel. I don’t get a choice in this.”

“So your dad says jump, and you say how high?”

“It’s not like that,” he sighed. “It’s just the way it is. The club always comes first. We pledged our loyalty. It’s not something you can pick and choose to participate in.”

“Fine!” I snapped. “I fail to see what could possibly be so important at this time of night! But if you’d rather be there than here, then go!”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I don’t want to argue with you. It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be. Don’t you think if I had a choice, I’d be back in bed with you, finishing what we started? I have to do this.”

“If you leave, don’t bother coming back!” I heard myself saying. I was both hurt and humiliated, and I couldn’t believe after what he had just said to me, he could drop me so easily at just one little word from his dad.

“If that’s how you want it to be. I’ll spend the night at the main house. Night, Rachel.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him, refusing to be drawn in to any disagreement with me.

I grabbed my pillow and screamed my frustration into it.