27. Rose #3
“I don’t mind you in my space.” Dante’s response is audibly lower, and I can tell he has taken a step closer. I’m doing everything I can to remain focused on my task of washing dishes. Do not engage.
“Would you like another drink, Rose?” Dante is close enough at this point that I can feel the warmth of his body radiating off him against my back. “I have something stronger than wine if you prefer.” He is so close I can feel his breath against my skin, and it gives me goose bumps.
I turn to tell him that probably isn’t the best idea, but my hands are slippery from the soap, and the hand holding the wineglass I’m washing bumps into his arm as I turn and drops to the floor with a crash and shatters.
Before I know what is happening, Dante has grasped me around the waist with his large hands and lifted me onto the counter.
“Dante! What are you doing? I need to sweep that up. I am so sorry! I can’t believe I did that. I promise, I will replace it as soon as possible. I can’t apologize enough.”
“Stay.” Dante still hasn’t removed his hands from my waist and waits for me to meet his eyes to ensure I heard his request, which came out more like a command if you ask me.
“Stay? I need to get the broom!” Why is my voice so high-pitched right now? Calm down, Ro!
“Stay, tesoro mio. You aren’t wearing any shoes, and I don’t want you to cut your feet. I will get the broom, but I want to make sure you didn’t cut your hands first.”
“But your wineglass? It was priceless! I specially ordered them from Italy!”
“Fuck the glass, Rose. Nothing in this house is more priceless than you. Now give me your hands.” He sounds almost frantic, but before I can comply, Dante has taken both of my hands in his and is careful to inspect every inch.
His index finger traces the lines on the palm of my right hand, and it feels like lightning through my veins.
His inspection slows as his fingers finish their thorough examination.
I feel his hands grip my wrists, and he raises his head so his eyes finally reach mine.
Warring emotions swirl in his deep forest eyes.
"Non ne posso più," Dante whispers under his breath, but I can’t understand the words, just that he sounds angry.
“Dante, I’m so sor—” But before I can finish my apology, Dante tugs my wrists and pulls my body against his, and my blood goes molten when our lips connect. Dante wraps one hand around the back of my neck and the other around my waist, pressing me flush against his body.
It only takes my mind a second to process, and I wrap my legs around his waist and deepen the kiss. Dante is still taller than me, even sitting on the counter, and he bends over me, forcing me to arch my back and press further into him.
My hands roam up his back and to his neck, tracing the lines and curves of every muscle as they ascend.
We are a tangle of tongues and limbs, and one of my hands grasps the strands of his soft dark hair to give me more leverage to deepen the kiss while the nails of my other graze the side of his neck from his strong jaw to the collar of his dress shirt, leaving red marks in their wake.
I’m lost in a sea of sensations and bliss until the grip around my waist loosens abruptly, almost making me fall backward with the loss of support.
Dante’s wild eyes are almost black, and I can see the untamed desire in them, but his words don’t match the passion we just shared.
“Out,” Dante grits out through clenched teeth, hands fisted at his sides like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching for me.
“Wha…what? What do you mean?” I am so dazed from the high of endorphins and lust coursing through every limb of my body that I think I’ve misheard him.
“Get out! Now!” His voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, and I hear him clearly this time.
“Dante. But…we…I don’t understand.” My high is dropping rapidly, and the panic is setting in. No. No. No!
“Leave the mess and get out, Rose.” Dante has taken several steps back and is gripping the edge of the counter opposite me, creating a space between us that feels like the Grand Canyon.
Message received. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Without another word, Dante turns on his heel and storms out of the kitchen, leaving me breathless and sitting on the counter in shock.
I need to get out of here. Dante has likely gone to his office or the elusive basement, but I don’t think I could even look at him right now.
How did this happen to me again? First with Luc and now Dante?
Talk about freaking déjà vu. Am I giving off some weird kiss-me vibe?
Don’t get me wrong, that kiss was something out of a dark romance novel with its heat and intensity, but it has left me reeling.
I really want to grab my stuff and leave, but I can’t just leave the broken glass all over the kitchen floor.
With that thought, I quickly sweep up the shards of glass I can find and finish rinsing the remaining glass.
Dante can do the rest, but at least I didn’t leave a complete disaster for him to deal with in the morning.