4. Dante
DANTE
I’m a fucking asshole. Worse, a dirty old man. I just kissed my best friend’s injured daughter and now all I can think about is how sweet her mouth tasted.
Like mint and apples and everything in me that’s good.
If there’s any of that left.
I pace around my bedroom, cursing myself. Elio will be home soon, and he’ll be on the warpath.
I’ll have to spend some time in the South Side. I can avoid her for a few weeks while I gather intel on Ricci. By then, maybe, maybe she’ll have forgotten about all this.
I know she’s attempted to seduce me, but that’s just who she is. She’s flirty and out there, shining like a star.
Not like me, hidden in the shadows, more comfortable in the dark.
I walk downstairs to give myself something to do and Elio bursts in the front door. “Where is she?” he asks breathlessly.
“Her room. She’s okay, Elio. Just a graze on her arm.”
His jaw tightens. “Stitches?”
I shake my head. “I bandaged it. She’s shaken up but she’s going to be okay.”
“This has to be Ricci.”
“I agree.”
“Did you see anyone? Hear anything?”
I shake my head. “The place wasn’t exactly packed but busy. Someone just walked by, spraying gunfire into the room. Montgomery Colombo showed up.”
“Sofia’s father?”
I nod. “Yeah, had his men sweep the area. They didn’t find anything. I think it was just supposed to be a warning.”
“Hell of a warning. They could have killed her,” he growls. “We have to do something.”
I hesitate. “I’m not questioning you, boss, but maybe we should gather a little information first. Find out where Ricci’s hiding out. What his plans are. If you can stay here with Samantha—”
“Of course I will. I won’t let her out of my sight.”
I nod, relief flowing through me as my shoulders finally relax. I’ll be able to stay away from Samantha for a while. God knows I need it.
I spend the next two weeks in shitty motels on the South Side, staking out Ricci’s territory.
He never shows himself, but I recognize a few of his men: Jimmy Shoeshine, one of the weasliest wiseguys I’ve ever met.
He talks his way in and out of most situations, but he’s deadly with a knife.
Aurelio Costa, Ricci’s nephew by his late sister. Reportedly as crazy as Ricci himself. And a couple others I only know by face.
Jimmy and Aurelio work together, almost like Aurelio is shadowing him. He’s still just a kid, barely twenty years old. They collect money. Intercept shipments. Nothing too out of the ordinary. It’s like they’re not focused on targeting Samantha at all.
Was it really just an empty threat? Or maybe the other night was opportunistic. Maybe they happened to see her out. Maybe it wasn’t Ricci at all. Either way, I don’t gain anything interesting in my trip to the South Side.
When I return, it’s late and I figure everyone’s asleep. I unlock the front door and then there’s Samantha, standing in front of me, wearing a big men’s t-shirt and nothing else.
She stares at me. “You’re back.”
I clear my throat, not looking at her. “Yeah. How’s the arm?”
She lifts her shirt sleeve and I glance up to see it’s just a bandaid, now. “It really wasn’t that bad. I was being a baby.” She sounds almost sheepish.
“You weren’t.”
She hums. “Are you back home for a while?”
“For a while.”
Samantha looks at me a moment longer before padding upstairs and into her room.
I let out a long breath, grabbing myself a drink from the bar before taking it up to mine. When I unlock the door, a small voice behind me speaks.
“Can I come in?”
I turn around to see Samantha, wearing a robe now, her dark hair damp and curling around her shoulders.
Jesus Christ. She’s twenty-five years old. Twenty years younger than me. I can’t look at her like that.
I think of the pillowy softness of her lips and grit my teeth. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Just for a minute.” She looks up at me with big brown eyes and I inwardly curse myself.
“Alright.” I step inside, taking a deep swallow of my drink.
She walks in behind me. The sound of the door clicking shut makes me snap my eyes to hers.
“I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
She sighs. “The other night. I was really out of it and I never said it. So… thank you.”
“I was just doing my job.”
She tilts her head and looks at me. I want to look away but I can’t, no matter how I try to tell myself to stop staring into those doe brown eyes.
“Is that really all it was, Dante?”
My jaw tightens. “Of course it was.”
She takes a step closer and puts her hand on the belt of her robe. “Samantha,” I choke out in warning, looking away.
“Dante. Look at me.”
In my peripheral vision, I see the robe shift and fall to the floor. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. “I can’t. You’re just a kid.”
“You don’t look at me like I’m just a kid.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well. I should.”
“But you don’t. And you didn’t kiss me like–”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you back.”
“But you did that, too.”
She takes another step toward me, that rose scent floating up into my nostrils. I’m fighting not to harden in my slacks. I place down my drink with shaking hands, finally looking up at her.
Oh, fucking Christ.
She’s nude beneath the robe, standing there bare in front of me, ample breasts and hips and thighs all on display.
Her olive skin is smooth everywhere, not a blemish to be had, and her waist dips in just where it’s supposed to.
She’s a fucking goddess and all I want to do is drop to my knees and worship her.
“Tell me again it was just your job. That you don’t feel anything for me.”
My eyes snap to hers. “It’s just… my job. I don’t… feel anything for you.” I choke out the lies like they’re laced with poison. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want Samantha Capetti… and that’s the worst thing about me.
“I don’t believe you,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. My hands, traitors that they are, go to her waist.
“That’s because I’m a fucking liar,” I groan as she presses her lips to mine, and I’m lost.
Samantha’s tongue is hot against mine, delving deep inside my mouth. My hands move to her hips, pulling her closer against me. I know she can feel me hard against her hip.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I should stop.
I groan into her mouth when her hands go to my chest, spreading her palms across my pecs. Her hand grips me through my slacks and I hiss in a sharp breath.
“Samantha.”
“Dante,” she says back, a teasing lilt in her voice, like she’s got me right where she wants me.
She does. I don’t care if she uses me up and throws me away, I’ll at least have this moment to remember.
Even if I never let myself do it again.
I wish I could blame the alcohol but I only had a few sips before this happened.
She drops to her knees, looking up at me. I reach down to thumb her pouty lip, pressing the digit into her mouth. She sucks on my thumb, cheeks hollowing and my dick jumps.
“Fuck, little one.”
Samantha rubs her face against my clothed erection, making my breath catch in my throat.
She puts her hands on my waistband, deftly unbuttoning my slacks.
When she frees my erection to the night air I groan low in my throat.
She looks at me hungrily for a moment before taking the head of my cock into her mouth.
I don’t cry out, not wanting to alert Elio, but it’s a near thing. I have to bite down hard on the side of my mouth, tasting copper.
Her mouth is so wet.
So warm.
So fucking good.
I mumble something to that effect, my hand going to her head, not pushing, just guiding. She gags around me as she takes me deeper and I grunt as pleasure shoots through me.
Most women can’t deep throat me—don’t even try. She’s taking it like a champ.
Before my balls start to draw up, I tug her hair. She pouts more but stands up. “Not good?”
“Too fucking good,” I pant, pulling her closer and pushing her down on my bed.
She moans softly, her head falling back on my pillow, dark curls cascading across it.
She’s barefaced after her shower, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.
I want to touch her, taste her. Everywhere.
I want to take my time with her but she’s already pressing her thighs together, her brown eyes dark with lust as she looks up at me.
Fuck me. She’s practically begging for it.
“Please, Dante.” Now she’s literally begging for it but I need to hear her say it.
“Please what, tesoro?”
“Fuck me,” she breathes, and I suppress a deep moan. It rattles in my chest. I slide my hand down between her thighs and find her slick and ready. She arches her back and rocks against my hand, desperate.
“Tell me you want me.” I don’t know why I need to hear it. I can see it all over her face, in her eyes when she looks at me, pupils blown. I can feel it in her body language, how she’s rocking against my hand.
“I want you so bad, Dante.”
I grunt, spreading her thighs impatiently and lining up, guiding myself into her slowly. I press into her, gritting my teeth because of how tight she grips me.
I’m fucking my best friend’s daughter, and all I can think of is how I want to stay inside of her forever