Chapter 15
EVERLEIGH
The way he’s looking at me makes my stomach twist.
Not in a bad way either, which is the part I probably should be concerned about.
He’s sitting on the edge of my bed bleeding through bandages I wrapped with my own hands, barely conscious, and somehow the tension between us still feels thick enough to choke on.
It’s ridiculous, and risky.
And I can’t seem to make myself step away from it.
I bite down lightly on my bottom lip, my brows pulling together as I study him. His skin still looks too pale, dark hair slightly damp from sweat and exhaustion.
He looks rough.
But alive.
Alive because of me.
“See, now you’re staring,” I mutter quietly.
Dante’s eyes shift up to mine slowly. “Can you blame me?”
Heat creeps into my face instantly.
I cross my arms tighter over the towel wrapped around my body. “You almost died tonight, Dante.”
A faint smirk tugs weakly at the corner of his mouth. “But I didn’t.”
“No shit.” I let out a breath somewhere between annoyed and amused before shaking my head slightly.
He’s unbelievable.
My gaze drifts downward without meaning to, catching the blood beginning to stain through the bandaging on his side again. A thin line of it slips lower, trailing over the hard lines of his stomach toward the button of his jeans.
My breath catches slightly.
Not because of the blood.
But right now all I can think about is how close I am to him. How warm his skin could feel beneath my hands despite the blood loss. How his breathing changes every single time I touch him.
The sight snaps me back into focus immediately.
“Lay down,” I tell him.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re very obviously not.” I retort.
He watches me for another second like he’s debating whether to argue, but exhaustion wins this time.
I stand, doing my best to keep the towel secured around me while also maneuvering him back toward the pillows so he can lay down properly. He hisses through his teeth the second his back hits the headboard and pillows, the movement clearly hurting his side.
My chest tightens slightly hearing it.
I move before I can think too much about it. I climb onto the bed in between his knees again and reach for the edge of the bandage carefully.
The second my fingers brush against his skin, his muscles tense beneath my hand.
I can feel his eyes on me the entire time as I work the bandaging loose enough to check the damage.
The room feels way too warm now.
The towel wrapped around me suddenly feels very small under the weight of his attention.
“You keep clenching your jaw like that and you’re going to crack a tooth,” I mutter, trying to focus on literally anything else.
His voice comes quieter this time, but somehow rougher.
“You’re between my legs in a towel, Leigh.”
My hands pause for half a second.
Damn him.
Heat crawls higher up my neck as I force myself to continue lifting the stained fabric. “Stop being dramatic. You’ve technically seen me naked before.”
A low sound rumbles from his throat.
“Yeah,” he mutters, eyes dragging over me again. “Not exactly under the circumstances I would’ve preferred, though.”
I freeze for a second, my thoughts snagging on what he just said.
Did he just admit to-
No.
There’s no way that’s what he meant.
I press the bandage back down.
“You’re lucky,” I say quietly, reaching over him for the fresh gauze from the nightstand.
“Usually am.” He mutters.
I roll my eyes instantly. “Your ego surviving a stabbing is honestly impressive.”
A faint grin pulls at his mouth again, weaker this time from exhaustion. “You’re that worried about me, Leigh?”
“Yes,” I answer automatically before I can stop myself.
Shit.
His eyes lift slowly to mine, something shifting behind them.
It makes my pulse thud harder against my ribs.
“You answered that fast,” he says quietly.
Heat crawls up my neck instantly, but I do my best to recover. “You’re basically apart of our family. Of course I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah, good excuse.”
I glare at him, ready to argue back, but it loses most of its effect when his hand suddenly slides against my thigh.
My breath catches instantly.
His thumb shifts once against my skin like he’s grounding himself, and the movement sends a pulse low in my stomach that I absolutely do not need right now.
The room feels unbearably hot.
Or maybe that’s just him.
I force myself to focus on removing his bloody bandage, then I follow it by wrapping fresh bandaging around his side again.
His eyes flutter slightly.
“You should sleep,” I mutter, trying to ignore the way my heart keeps speeding up every time his fingers move against my leg.
“Probably.”
“But I assume you’re not going to.” I continue.
His gaze drifts over my face slowly before settling back onto my eyes. “Not if you keep sitting between my legs looking like that.”
My stomach flips with excitement.
“Dante,” I warn quietly.
His expression darkens.
“Tell me to stop,” he says softly.
His touch feels good.
It feels right.
I can’t tell him to stop.
I don’t want him to.
“No.”
Even with him being in an immense amount of pain, he moves his hand between my legs and caresses my pussy. I jolt slightly at the touch, but don’t move.
He stays still for a moment before he presses his hand further against my clit, rubbing in back and forth motions.
My breath catches sharply, my hands instinctively gripping the sheets beneath me as the movement sends heat straight through my stomach.
“Dante..”
His eyes stay locked onto mine the entire time, dark and heavy beneath the exhaustion pulling at him. Like even half-dead, he still knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
The slow drag of his fingers makes my thighs tense slightly around his hand, and a shaky breath slips past my lips before I can stop it. Heat floods through me embarrassingly fast, my body reacting to him like it’s been waiting for this exact moment.
Maybe it has.
His jaw tightens slightly at the sound I make, his breathing roughening as his gaze flicks briefly down to my mouth before returning to my eyes again.
“You should stop me,” he mutters, voice low and strained.
But his hand doesn’t stop moving.
And neither do I.
I stay exactly where I am between his legs, riding out the high I feel on his hand.
“I can’t.”
The echo of a door slamming in the foyer snaps through the penthouse like a gunshot.
I jerk back instantly, practically throwing myself off of the bed as my eyes widen.
“Who the fuck is that?” I whisper.
He shakes his head once, jaw tightening immediately. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Adrenaline crashes through me so fast it wipes away every remaining trace of heat from a few seconds ago.
I turn quickly, heading for the closet and yanking my robe off the hook on the door. I shrug it on fast, tightening the belt around my waist as I move toward the bedroom entrance.
“Leigh, fuck no.”
I glance back at him.
He’s already trying to push himself up again despite the pain written all over his face.
I roll my eyes instantly. “You are in no fucking condition to be telling me what to do right now.”
Another noise creaks faintly from the living room.
Both of us go still.
My pulse pounds harder.
“We can argue about it later,” I whisper sharply, reaching toward the dresser for the pistol hidden inside. “First, I’m figuring out who the hell is in my house this late.”