Page 28 of The Dante (Those (Damn!) Texas Dantes #1)
For a long moment, neither of them moved. They lay there, tangled together, their breathing ragged, the heat of their bodies locked in the aftermath of what they had justdone.
The air was thick, heavy with the lingering scent of sweat and sex, the weight of their shared intensity pressing down on them like a tangible force.
The room around them felt different, like it had been remade in the chaos of their collision, but as the seconds ticked by, the world outside began to creep back in.
Jazz’s pulse thundered in her ears, but underneath the fading pleasure, something colder began to settle into her bones—aquiet, creeping awareness that this moment wouldn’tlast.
Then, slowly, Jazz turned her head, hesitation prickling at the edges of her awareness.
Astrange tension filled the air, ashift she felt before she even saw it.
When she finally met his gaze in the reflection, her stomach clenched.
Something had changed. The heat between them lingered, but there was something else now, something colder.
Awall rebuilding itself in real time, brick by brick, until she could feel the burden of it pressing against her chest.
And she saw it. The shift. The instant the passion dimmed and reality set backin.
The warmth in his gaze dimmed, then the fire between them flickered and died. Her body continued to pulse with the aftershocks of pleasure, but her heart clenched as realization set in. This wasn’t a beginning. It was an ending
She could feel him pulling away, locking something inside himself, shutting her out. And for the first time, she wondered if she had ever truly had him at all. His grip loosened, the desire that had driven him moments ago now cooling into something distant.
Her stomach twisted. For a heartbeat, she wanted to deny it, to pretend she hadn’t seen it. But she had. And it left her hollow.
Titus pulled away first. Not roughly, not dismissively—but with purpose, with finality.
Jazz instinctively reached for him, fingertips brushing against his skin.
For a second, she hesitated, the warmth of him still lingering, still calling to her.
But then she caught herself, the tension in his body registering just as he pulled away.
The distance between them had already begun, even though neither of them had moved.
Her breath hitched, realization dawning like a slow-moving storm.
He was already retreating, pulling back into himself, into that place she could never quite reach.
Asecond ago, he had been everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his body fusing with hers in a way that left no room for doubt.
But now? Now, he was gone, even though he remained right in front of her.
Like he was already fortifying himself against whatever came next.
Like he was preparing to do what he always did—put distance betweenthem.
Titus sat up first, reaching for his discarded pants without a word.
The air felt different now—cooler, heavier.
Jazz swallowed hard, pushing herself up, wrapping an arm around her middle as if she could shield herself from the sudden emptiness settling between them.
He didn’t look at her. Didn’t reach for her.
Just fastened his belt and ran a hand through his hair, like a man already shifting back into a different gear.
A cold prickle of unease skated through her. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t even fully processed the importance of what had just happened between them, and yet something in the air had shifted, an almost imperceptible change, a chasm stretching between them, separating him from her.
Then, his phone rang.
The abrupt sound sliced apart the silence, cutting through the charged air between them.
Jazz flinched, the abrupt noise jolting her out of the haze clinging to her.
Instinctively, she snatched up her dress, holding it in front of her like a flimsy shield.
But the moment her fingers gripped the fabric, she realized it was practically ripped in half, torn from the frenzy of their hands and mouths just momentsago.
A sudden awareness of her own vulnerability settled in.
But even as she pulled the fabric across her chest, her gaze remained locked on Titus, watching, waiting, as the distance between them grew wider with every second of his silence.
Titus didn’t react at first, only staring at the screen for a long, unreadable moment before answering.
He listened, saying nothing, his expression giving away nothing.
But Jazz felt it—the way the air around him seemed to quiet, the way his entire body went unnervingly motionless.
Finally, he disconnected the call, his fingers lingering on the device for a fraction too long.
His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking once before he snapped his features into an impenetrable face.
Ever so carefully, ever so precisely, he set the phone down on his desk. The silence echoed through the room.
For the first time, Jazz felt utterly and completely exposed. Not just physically, but in a way that left her ripped open and vulnerable—like everything she had just given him had been for nothing.
When he spoke, his voice was calm. Too calm. The tone rough and unreadable.
“Which shall we discuss next? Your visit to the Feds or Vex?”