Page 33 of The Prices We Pay (Vittori Enterprises #1)
Josephine
I t’s been two days since my night with Luca and Sebastian, and I feel like I’m literally walking on a cloud. I might have walked with a slight limp for twelve hours, but on a cloud nonetheless.
And while my body has fully recovered from all of the events that took place on Monday, I swear I can still feel the touch of their lips on my skin.
Even Dante’s soft kiss on my cheek fills my thoughts every minute of every day.
I’ve barely seen the four of them the last few days, as Sebastian and Dante have been busy completely “revamping” Vittori Enterprises security, and, after they decided to get cold feet, Luca and Enzo have spent the last forty-eight hours trying to convince Style Us magazine to move forward with the sale of their company.
Even though I know the four of them have a thousand things to do at any given moment—as do I—I selfishly find myself wanting them all to myself.
It’s all I can seem to think about. The way Sebastian controlled my body, despite the fact I’ve never been able to let go like that with a partner, the way he looked so complete when Luca buried himself inside of him, the way I saw a side to Luca I would never have expected, especially from a man who commands everyone and everything around him.
I can’t stop thinking about the way Enzo’s eyes shone with happiness when he caught us—the way Dante so clearly tried to hide how turned on the whole scene made him.
I crave them every minute of every day. Sebastian’s dominating tone… Enzo’s flirtatious smile… Dante’s protective touch… Luca’s possessive stare… I want it all.
Who am I?
The thought has me crossing my eyes beneath my desk, and I know that if I let my train of thought continue, I’m going to walk down this hall and try to fuck one of them in their office.
And as tempting as that sounds, I’m wearing satin dress pants today, and I don’t want to risk a stain.
My stomach groans, and I realize it’s the perfect distraction I need.
My kickboxing class ran a little late this morning, so I didn’t have time to pack a lunch, but there’s a ramen place right across the street that I’ve been dying to try.
Sliding my heels back on, I grab my purse and head toward the elevator, making sure I tell Clara I’ll be back shortly.
When the elevator doors open on the lobby floor, I’m instantly met with a six-foot-six man with buzzed hair, a beard, and biceps bigger than my thighs. “Dante.” I smile up at him.
“Going to lunch?”
“What are the chances you just happened to be headed upstairs and not waiting by the elevator doors because Clara texted you and told you that I was leaving the building for lunch?”
“Zero.”
Traitor. How does she work so fast?
Regardless of how busy the four of them have been the last few days, one thing has been made very clear: I don’t go anywhere by myself.
Not to or from work, not to kickboxing, nowhere.
It’s clear Clara has been instructed to inform them of my whereabouts.
They have still been taking turns spending the night at my apartment.
Last night was Luca’s first shift, and as much as I wanted to jump his bones, I could tell he wasn’t in the right headspace.
He practically sat at my kitchen counter on his laptop all night, corresponding with a plethora of people about salvaging this buyout.
It’s easy to tell that he doesn’t do well when things don’t go as planned. I think he and I are a lot alike in that way.
Patting his giant pec, I try to placate him by saying, “I’m literally just walking to the ramen restaurant across the street. I’ll even bring my food back here and eat it in my office. I’ll be gone for fifteen minutes max.”
His face remains stern. “Don’t care. I’m coming with you.”
“Dante, it’s really— ”
Grabbing my wrist, Dante pulls me through the lobby of Vittori Enterprises, guiding me into a hallway off to the side.
He grabs my face with one hand as he pins me against the wall.
“Understand me right here and now: It doesn’t matter where you’re going or what time of day it is; I don’t care if you’re taking out the trash at two o’clock in the fucking morning; one of us will go with you. ”
I stare up at him, slightly taken aback and turned on by the aggressiveness that’s taken hold of his deep voice.
“The Bratva knows who you are, Josephine.” And the use of my full name causes a rush of wetness to pool between my thighs.
Fuck, why is this so hot?
“They know who you are, and they will not hesitate to use you to get to us. We have no idea why they are fucking with us, which means we have no idea what their plan is.” He lowers his face to mine, and I shiver as his beard rubs against my cheek.
“So until we say so, you will go nowhere without us. Is that clear? ”
Under normal circumstances, I would quite literally kick a man in the dick for speaking to me that way, but when Dante does it… Jesus, fuck. “Crystal.”
I watch as Dante’s stare moves from my eyes to my mouth.
His hazel eyes darken as he leans in closer.
Parting his lips slightly, he brushes them lightly against mine.
A touch so feather-light it hardly constitutes a kiss, but it’s not nothing either.
Neither of us move, and I watch as Dante wages some kind of internal war within himself.
Every fiber of my being wants to move that extra half-inch—to steal a kiss that I didn’t realize how badly I was craving until this very moment.
But his hold on my face remains, and I know that even if I wanted to, there’s no way I’m moving until he’s ready.
For a fraction of a second, I swear I see his face relax. Like he’s finally willing to give in. Like all he wants on this planet is to be mine. But then his eyes narrow, and the clench of his jaw returns. With a heavy sigh, he speaks against my lips, “Come on, Amore Mia. Let’s get you some food.”
As I said, it took all of fifteen minutes for us to walk across the street, order our lunch, and return to my office. Yet, regardless of how mundane the trip out of the building was, Dante remained on high alert the entire time. The second we were in my office, though, his entire body relaxed.
The two of us are now sitting on the two black suede chairs on the opposite side of my desk as my chair, scarfing down our delicious bowls of ramen. Every time I look at him, I stifle a laugh at the sight of his ridiculously large frame in a rather small chair.
He’s wearing a black short-sleeved button-up shirt that looks like it’s about to bust at the seems around his biceps.
His black dress slacks have risen up as he’s sat down, and I can see the makings of a large tattoo covering his lower leg.
My eyes trail up his leg, silently wondering if the tattoo continues further north.
I just about choke on a noodle when I get to his crotch.
I don’t know if it’s just because he’s so huge and his pants are so tight while sitting, but Dante DeLuca has what looks like the biggest package I’ve ever seen. And he’s not even hard.
Dante coughs, effectively pulling my attention away from what I’m sure is his impressive dick. And the second I look at his face, I know he’s fully aware of what I was doing. But what surprises me most is what comes out of his mouth next: “If you want a better look, I can just take the pants off.”
This time, I really do choke on a noodle. Once I’m finally able to breathe again, I can’t help but nervously giggle. “What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Sometimes I think I have you pegged, and then you go ahead and say something like that.”
“I live with Lorenzo. Sometimes it just slips.”
Realizing that this is as good of a chance as I’ll get, I decide to ask him something I’ve been dying to know since Monday morning. “Can I ask you something?”
He sets his food on my desk and turns the chair to face me, giving me his undivided attention. “You can ask me anything, Joe.”
I give him a warm smile. “What did you see? When you had the flashback… What did you see?”
I worry he won’t tell me, which I would completely understand if he didn’t.
He obviously went through something traumatic, but it also very clearly helped shape who he is as a person.
And I know that he is a person I want to know as much about as I possibly can.
Dante leans forward, resting his forearms on the tops of his legs, looks up at me through his long black eyelashes, and says, “I grew up a lot like you.”