Chapter 10
DANTE
I have to carry Ethan from the couch to the bedroom upstairs in the middle of the night so we can both sleep comfortably. I can’t help but stare at him as he lays in the bed, naked and so incredibly fucking hot. His neck and shoulders are covered in hickeys and bite marks that I put on him.
He’s mine now. Regardless of what happens now, that isn’t going to change. That much I know. It can’t change.
I feel an almost overwhelming sense of fear at the idea of losing him as I fall asleep next to him.
Some hours later I wake up to the feeling of wetness along my neck and a slight sting on the surface of my skin.
I pull my heavy eyes open and start to process what’s happening.
“Ethan,” I mumble. “What are you…?”
Before I can get the rest of my words out, he shushes me.
“If you won’t go to the hospital, at least let me clean your wounds,” Ethan insists. He dabs a warm washcloth along the cuts on my neck.
“It’s nothing. I’ve had way worse,” I tell him. Still, I let my eyes close and don’t object more than that.
“I can see that,” he says. I feel the fingers of his other hand drag along the scars on my back and side. I shiver and slide my hand onto his naked thigh from behind.
It’s quiet for a few moments. I look toward the windows. The curtains keep the light out, but I can still tell that the sun hasn’t risen yet.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” Ethan finally asks.
My brows furrow. “What?”
“That I’m yours.” He pulls the washcloth away and I roll over to face him, my lower half still under the covers.
“Yes,” I say, looking into his eyes in the dim light.
He stares back at me. I see uncertainty in his eyes…and fear. He hangs the damp cloth over the headboard and slides back down so that he’s lying across from me. There are just a few inches separating us.
“We barely know each other,” he reminds me.
“So tell me about yourself.” I scoot closer and slide my hand from his thigh to his hip, and then wrap my arm around him, tugging him closer.
Ethan’s breath catches in his throat as his hands plant themselves on my bare chest.
“This is so new. I don’t know where to start.” Ethan’s voice is shaky.
My eyes trail down to his lips, his neck, and back up. He’s trembling and his eyes are shiny.
“You’re scared,” I whisper. “What are you scared of?”
Ethan’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Everything.” His fingers curl against my chest. The feeling of his nails against my skin makes me bite my lip. “What this means…about me. Who you are, your family. What my family will think.”
I tighten my hold on him and bring my face closer, leaning my forehead against his.
“What does it mean about you?” I ask. I know, but I need him to say it.
Ethan’s lips quiver. “T-That…I’m gay.”
I press my lips to his shaky ones once, then twice. “Fuck what anyone else thinks. How does it feel when I kiss you?”
I kiss him again, dragging out it this time, and slide my hand slowly up his back.
Ethan moans quietly as his hands slide up my chest to my shoulders, and then his arms wind around my neck.
“So good,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Have you ever felt like this before?” I murmur against his.
He shakes his head, causing our slips to squish together even more.
“How does being gay feel right now?” I ask, sliding my lips to his jawline. I slowly kiss up to his ear.
He exhales shakily and tightens his grip on me.
“Free.” He presses his chest against mine and tilts his head down into the crook of my neck. I nuzzle his hair and breathe him in. His scent is musky, sweaty, perfect…
I feel my cock hardening, and his as well against my thigh, but I also hear him falling back asleep.
Even as the sun starts to rise, I close my eyes and start to drift back to sleep, too.
There’s something so different about this moment compared to the intensity of how badly I want to claim him every second, dominate him, own him, contrasted with how soft he feels in my arms, how gentle his touch was when he was cleaning my wounds.
It’s easy right now to let everything go, and just be here and now.
“So you hate horror movies, but you’re essentially living in one?” Ethan asks as we stand in the kitchen together. He’s leaning against a counter, and I’m over the stovetop, stirring butter into a pot of noodles.
“I think my life is more like a soap,” I say. “I don’t hate horror movies; I just think they’re for people who can’t get real heart-pumping action in real life.”
Ethan smiles softly. “That’s most people.”
“Lemme guess, you like that shit?” I raise a brow.
He rolls his eyes. “No. I’ll watch it, but I don’t gravitate toward it myself.” He pauses and looks toward the window, where the dull sunlight is peeking through the curtains. “What do you like to watch?”
I grab the seasonings and cheese from the nearby counter and start pouring them into the pot. “I don’t have a lotta time to watch stuff,” I admit. “When I do, I guess…medical dramas.”
He snorts. “Really?”
I glare at him. “What?”
“I just wouldn’t have taken you for someone who’s into that.”
I add in the grilled chicken and spinach. “Alright, what did you take me for?”
“Racing, maybe. Like the Fast and Furious movies,” he says thoughtfully.
“I’ve seen ’em, yeah. You into that?” I start to plate everything, which is mostly just dumping the pasta onto two paper plates.
“Not particularly,” he says quietly. “But Lena is really into those movies.”
I pause what I’m doing for a second, ignoring the ache of jealousy. There’s no reason for me to care about her anymore. They’re broken up, and we’re together.
“Really? Wouldn’t have expected that,” I mumble.
It’s quiet for a long moment, the tension suddenly rising.
“Dante, would you really have hurt Lena?” Ethan asks.
“I never threatened to hurt her,” I insist.
“You did threaten her, though,” he retorts. “What else could that have been about?”
I sigh and turn to him. “I was fucked-up with jealousy and frustrated,” I admit. “But when I told her she’d get hurt, I meant by you. I wouldn’t hurt her.”
His face flushes that gorgeous shade of pink that makes me want to grab him and strip him naked right here and now. I hold myself back, mainly because I’m starving and I know he is, too.
“Did you want to?” he asks.
My jaw tightens. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
He steps closer. “I’m serious. I know you’re dangerous—I know the rumors, at least, but…I don’t actually know you, Dante.”
I grab one of the plates and hand it to him. “Yeah. I wanted to. Sometimes…I can’t think straight. I just wanna choke out anyone who gets in my way.”
Ethan’s face goes pale for a moment or two, but then he swallows. “Do you ever actually do it?”
I chuckle darkly. “Sometimes. But I’m not a monster, Ethan. If it ain’t for a job, I usually leave it alone.”
He nods slowly. “Okay.”
I lead him to the small table in the corner of the kitchen, and we sit across from each other with our food. I dig in immediately, eating faster and in bigger bites than Ethan, who picks at his food a lot more than me.
“Thank you for being honest,” he adds after a second.
“It doesn’t scare you?” Ethan chews at his lip for a second. “It does, but…it also doesn’t, and that scares me, too.”
“You’ve got a lot to process.”
He nods. “Yeah, I do.”
It’s quiet as we eat, at least once Ethan really starts eating, and we’re both focused on quieting our growling stomachs.
Ethan only speaks again once he’s almost done with his plate. “Tell me about your family.”
I scoff. “Where do I start?”
He shrugs. “I mean…are you really the mafia?”
I laugh. “It’s more complicated than that, but yeah. It’s not like the movies. There are several crime families in the state—hell, in this city. All full of people who want control and get together to try to take it. My family just happens to be the strongest in the area.”
“Just happens to be?” His face scrunches. “How long have the Romanos been a crime family?”
I click my tongue. “Since the nineties. Before that the Romanos were lackeys to another family, but my grandfather decided he was tired of following someone else’s rules. I suppose it ain’t just happenstance that we’re on top now. We’ve worked our asses off for it.”
Ethan’s eyes scan me slowly before he takes another bite. “So you were raised into all of it.”
“Yup. Me and my brother, Marco.”
He blinks. “Marco. The one you told to take care of things with the bomb?”
I nod. “Yeah. He’s my older brother. Pain in the ass, but he gets the job done.”
I watch Ethan as he seems to be thinking, staring at the table as he chews. There’s a part of me that’s terrified he might decide this is too much for him, and I’ll have to deal with the aftermath of a freak-out that pushes him away from me.
But he isn’t going anywhere. He’s still sitting at the table, eating pasta and wearing a bathrobe.
“How did you know about the car bomb?” he asks.
“I didn’t. Well, I wasn’t sure. A rival threatened you, but I figured out where you were and what they might be up to.
I wasn’t positive it had to do with your car, but I wasn’t about to fucking ignore it,” I say, my voice lowering, a soft growl escaping me as I think about it.
“They’re gonna fuckin’ pay. I promise you that. If you’d gotten hurt…”
Ethan reaches across the table. “I’m okay. You saved me,” he reminds me. “You saved my life, Dante.”
“At the last second. You could’ve died,” I say.
He nods slowly. “I know, but I’m here. With you. Feeling things I’ve never felt before. Feeling free, in the scariest way possible, but free .”
I brush my fingers over his knuckles. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“What about my friends? Nathan. Lena. Are they in any danger?” he asks.
I frown. “Maybe. They want to hurt me, so they came after you. But I’m not sure your…friends…are on their radar.”
“I feel like I should tell them, though,” he insists. “I don’t want to keep them in the dark.”
I take a breath. “I ain’t gonna keep you from that, but the more they know, the more danger they’ll be in.”