Chapter 9
DOVE
I should say no.
I said what I came here to say, giving Felix the bare bones of an explanation while insisting that I’ve left that life, our old life, far behind.
His question about the Rossis should be enough of a warning.
Felix stands and quickly shrugs off his black dinner jacket, leaving him in just a white shirt that clings to every curve and ripple of muscle hidden beneath.
Shadows cling to the fabric as the black ink from his tattoos taunts me with further hints of what could lie underneath, and when he holds his hand out to me, my resistance crumbles.
One dance can’t hurt, right?
For old times’ sake.
“Fine.” Setting my wine glass down, I push back from the table and accept his hand.
The moment we make contact, something changes.
Warmth blooms against my palm and tingles rush up my arm to my shoulders, where another shiver steals down my spine.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he gently pulls me to my feet and walks backward to a small cleared area just behind our table.
“It’s been years since I’ve danced,” I warn him.
“Me too.”
“I mean it. I’ll be terrible.”
“Me too.” His charming smile makes my heart flip in my chest and my stomach tightens into a fist as his other arm slides around my waist.
With his hand spread flat against my lower back, he draws me in against his body and suddenly we’re chest to chest.
He raises our joined hands and slides his other hand up to my mid-back, then we very slowly start swaying back and forth to the soft jazz drifting through the air.
This is almost too much.
My favorite food, music, and type of wine.
Now we’re dancing.
Felix is going overboard trying to show me he remembers everything I like and it’s almost painful.
I’ve spent fifteen years hating him.
Fifteen years contemplating sneaking out, hunting him down and murdering him for what he did.
What I thought he did.
The night the Salamones attacked my family’s Estate, I thought he was there.
I was certain he was.
I was certain he’d found out the truth and came to kill me in revenge, and when he couldn’t kill me, he killed my family.
For fifteen years, I’ve harbored that belief and fueled my hatred with it.
But in a single sentence over pasta, he destroyed that belief.
Felix wasn’t there that night.
He was drunk. Too drunk from mourning his dead friend to be of any use to anyone or anything.
It doesn’t make him completely innocent because after all these years, he might still know the truth, and all of this is a fantastical, warm plan to trap me and get his own revenge.
But it doesn’t feel like it.
“What are you thinking about?” Felix asks softly, his face only a couple of inches from mine.
I try to avoid his eyes but it’s much too hard. He’s just as handsome as he was back then.
More so, even.
Time has been kind to him and the warmth growing in my belly refuses to back down.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” His hand adjusts against my back as we sway. “You’re thinking about something you don’t like.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that adorable little curl between your brows always gets so deep when you’re thinking about things you don’t like.”
“That’s just age.”
“Is it?” Swaying leads into a slow spin and Felix steps away, spinning me gently out into the floor and then drawing me back in, but this time, he twists one extra turn and I end up against him, my back to his chest.
“It is,” I reply and my breath catches slightly in my throat.
I’m only against him for a second, but it’s a long second.
The firmness of his muscles against my back, the overwhelming warmth that radiates from him, the strength he exudes with such care that his arm around my waist and his hand in mine remain so gentle; it’s turning my blood to lava.
He spins me again, and this time when he draws me back, we’re chest to chest and his hand rests low on the curve of my ass.
His fingers splay wide and he increases the pressure just enough to keep our hips aligned as we sway.
“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you,” Felix murmurs, his voice low. “I never stopped dreaming of a moment like this.”
“A dance with a ghost?” Our eyes lock and a pulse of white-hot want surges through my chest.
“Every day,” he whispers. “Every day I’d live in what-ifs, praying I could go back and stop all of this from happening.”
“Are you sure?”
“More sure of that than anything else in my entire life.”
“Felix…” He doesn’t talk like a man who knows the truth. That makes him even more dangerous, but in this moment, it’s just us.
“Dove.” He says my name like a prayer, soft and desperate, then he turns his head and very gently presses his lips to the bruise on my wrist.
A shock of sensation jolts through me and something swells deep in my heart.
I’ve spent years by myself. Years struggling to keep myself and Alex safe, years being a mother and a protector and a worker.
In just two hours, Felix has reminded me I’m also a woman.
A woman who hasn’t felt this desired in over a decade.
Against all my sensibilities, I lift my hand from his arm and cup the side of his neck.
Felix gently parts the kiss on my bruise and turns his head to face me.
That’s all it takes.
A second of eye contact, a second of warmth that makes me feel like the only woman on the planet, and I lean up onto my tiptoes and kiss him.
Everything about it is achingly familiar, almost enough to bring me to tears.
Years spent hating a man who didn’t have anything to do with what I quietly blamed him for, years of wrestling with love and betrayal in my heart when I had it all wrong.
This is a bad idea.
But he tastes exactly like I remember.
His lips are as soft as my memories, with the only difference being a new, small scar on his lower lip that grows prominent when he draws me into a tight embrace and deepens the kiss with a low, soft growl.
This is a bad idea.
Felix deepens the kiss further.
His tongue slips past his lips and presses against the seam of mine, licking up and then down until I open my mouth.
He delves inside and an achingly familiar dance begins between the two of us.
He always wants to be in control but I always refused to give it up, and that won’t happen now without a fight.
A fight that switches to his mouth as I step into him and arch my body, then I withdraw my tongue and nip faintly at his lower lip.
Felix’s head snaps back and he gasps, staring at me as we pant into the same inch of space between us.
Our eyes lock.
My heart’s hammering, my skin heating up like I’m over an open flame, and every sensible thought inside me is being drowned out by the heated, gnawing desire in my gut.
Felix’s mouth crashes against mine and we stumble back until we hit the table and suddenly everything is different.
His kisses are deep and possessive, his kind hands turn to claws that pull at my dress and slide into my hair for a handful of strands, and he shoves a thick, muscular thigh between my legs, forcing me to widen my stance and my dress to ride a few inches up my thighs.
This is the best idea.
I rake my fingers down his arms, scratching over muscles that are thicker and wider than the last time we were together.
Every kiss has me fighting for air, every tug on my hair forces me back down onto the table until Felix suddenly holds me close.
He sweeps one arm and the crash of shattering glasses and plates hitting the floor rises up behind me.
Not that I have time to focus. His hands clasp my hips and he lifts me up, then dumps me on the table and claims my mouth once more.
I’m burning up.
My dress is too tight and too hot.
My hair’s sticking to my gleaming shoulders.
My core’s tightening rhythmically and my hips take on a mind of their own as I start grinding against his thigh.
Felix returns a hand to my hair and grips tightly, forcing my head back and drawing a cry from my lips.
His mouth latches onto my neck and suckles hard, grazing his teeth down the column of my throat until he reaches my collar bone, then he kisses his way back up to my jaw and devours my mouth.
My thoughts cloud and instinct takes over.
Skimming my hands over his chest, I seek out the seam of his shirt with both fists and, once located, I tear his shirt wide open.
Buttons ping and clatter to the ground around us and Felix breaks the kiss, leaning up and glancing down.
His torso is incredibly beautiful and I can’t take my eyes off the miles of muscle that shift and roll as he moves.
Not only that, but every inch of his sexy, olive skin is covered in black ink.
A full torso tattoo that sweeps up to his neck and down to the hem of his pants, where his hands quickly shed his belt and tug them down.
At a glance, I make out some flowers and birds but there’s far too much to take in with one look.
A look that lingers as Felix sheds his shirt completely, showing that the ink covers not just his torso but both arms as well.
“Holy shit,” I gasp weakly. “You look… wow.”
“Wow?” Felix smirks and he surges back into my space, half forcing me down onto the dining table. “That’s all you can say?”
“What do you want me to say?” I gasp while he buries his face in my neck and sinks his teeth in hard.
“Tell me I’m beautiful,” he offers, dragging his tongue over the throbbing bite. “I’m sexy. Handsome. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“You’re fucking ego,” I laugh breathlessly. “Is it still as big as you—Felix!”
He steals my words and my thoughts by grasping the front of my dress and jerking it down to my waist, exposing my breasts in seconds.
Any shame that rises is immediately snuffed by the feral sound that rises in Felix’s throat.
He takes my breasts in each hand, silences my shock with a deep kiss, then buries his face in the valley of softness with a deep moan.
I sink back against the table, lost to the sensation of his mouth frantically exploring my body.
One hand remains over my head, clutching at the tablecloth while the other sinks into Felix’s black hair and clings on.
He kisses over my breasts, seals his mouth over one nipple, and sucks hard while his fingers tease, roll, and tug on my other.
Each pull and draw sends shocks of pleasure straight between my legs, where dampness completely soaks into my panties.
If he doesn’t do something soon, I’m going to cum right here.
His mouth and fingers switch, alternating between lavishing attention on my nipples and kissing over my breasts.
He massages me, pinches my nipples until I gasp and then soothes the sensation with his tongue.
Then he kisses lower.
I’m so caught up in the aching throb between my legs and the flushing heat over my chest that I don’t register the full removal of my dress until it’s too late, and a very obvious scar is suddenly on display.
Felix pauses above me, one hand on my waist, and my heart punches up into my throat at his sudden silence.
Our eyes meet but just as shame prickles up the back of my neck, Felix leans down and presses his lips to my cesarean scar.
It’s a part of me I’ve hidden ever since Alex was born, ashamed of how it looks and often mourning what I used to look like.
So caught up in the exhilarating heat of this, I didn’t even think about him seeing it.
And now he’s kissing it. From one side to the other, his lips weave a warm, gentle path across my abdomen with a pause only to kiss around my navel, then back to the scar.
“Beautiful,” Felix groans huskily.
My heart melts.
I need him.
I don’t give a shit about anything else.
I need him now.
I sit up and cradle his face, drawing him up to my level and then claiming his lips in a desperate, eager kiss that ends when I bite his lower lip.
“Fuck me,” I demand. “Or so help me god I will kill you.”
Felix’s eyes sparkle at me, dark with lust and void of any color. “Is that a promise?” he smirks.
I try to answer. I try to bite back at him but as soon as I open my lips, he jerks my panties to one side and the tip of his firm cock presses against my slick pussy.
The only thought remaining in my mind when he enters me is one single word.
Yes!