7. JUSTINA
Dinner was a trap. It was a trap to get me alone with Dane.
With another glass of wine in my system, I was starting to feel my liberties diving headfirst into the ocean just steps from where we sat.
Dane didn’t make things any better. Every time he slid his fork into his mouth, I imagined me being that damn fork.
“Taste this,” he offered, holding said fork out to me.
Without the slightest care, I opened my mouth and tasted a piece of his perfectly grilled steak.
“Good, huh?” he asked, his tone dipping to kiss me between my thighs.
The steak indeed was good. It melted in my mouth and slid down my throat gracefully.
Clearing my throat, I blinked away the heavy cloud of desire that seemed to take over me.
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I had to pull myself together.
Normally, I wasn’t this fucking thirsty or hot and bothered over a man.
Especially a man I didn’t know outside of his music.
Dane used his fingers to pick up a plump, garlic and honey-glazed shrimp, plopped it in his mouth, then sucked the sticky leftover sauce from his fingertips.
“You allergic to shrimp?” he asked. I shook my head. “Here… Taste this, too.” I stopped staring at his lips long enough to see him offering me one of his shrimps, with the same fingers he’d just had in his mouth.
Blushing all over, I hesitantly wrapped my hand around his strong, tattooed wrist and ate from his fingers. I kept my eyes low to avoid whatever look was on his face as I cleaned the sauce from his fingers. I let his wrist go, then chewed the savory shrimp before focusing on my own plate.
“I want you to hold my wrists like that while you ridin’ my dick, aight.”
Dane’s comment should’ve knocked some sense into me. I should’ve been offended. Instead, the imagery caused my middle to purr. I squirmed in my seat and was ashamed by the way my panties flooded.
My voice trembled as I said, “That’s crazy to say.”
“Look at me,” he commanded softly, so I slowly lifted my eyes to look at him. “Is it crazy, baby?” The slight smirk on his face was telling. He knew he had me in the palm of his hand.
“You’ve been with half the women in the industry and many more who aren’t. Touching you would be the equivalent of risking my life on the edge of a cliff.”
Slowly, he smiled. “Half the women couldn’t even tell you which way my dick curves, baby.”
Shit… The way he looked at me was deadly.
“My answer still stands,” I said.
“Aight. What would put ya mind at ease? Can’t have my future wife bein’ afraid to touch me.”
That knocked some sense into me. “Wife?” I questioned him, eyes bugging.
He chuckled and confirmed, “Wife.”
I laughed. “Ya know, Dane, I always knew you were the crazy type.”
Amused, he smirked. “Do tell.”
“That quiet, reflective energy you possess. I’ve always thought you were like that to hide your lunacy from the world.”
“I’m crazy for wanting to marry you?” he asked.
“You’re crazy for wanting to marry a woman you don’t know,” I clarified.
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong, love. I know what’s on the surface. Shit like ya favorite color, the perfume you like to wear, and the type of music you like to listen to.”
It was my turn to be amused. “You know what perfume I like to wear?”
He nodded. “Chanel.”
“That’s easy—”
“Mademoiselle, right?”
I swallowed my comeback. “Anyone could’ve told you that.”
“You were wearing that night at the award show,” he said. “Since that night, how often have you thought about me?”
I would never divulge that information. That would be admitting to having another man on the brain while I was actively in a relationship. Shy T couldn’t even kiss me without me wondering what it felt like to kiss Dane. Ever since our bodies touched, it was as if Dane owned me in some way.
“It’s aight if you don’t wanna be honest, but we both know you’ve thought about me. Nigga probably couldn’t even touch you after I had my hands on you,” Dane commented, echoing my thoughts.
My gaze flashed to his, wondering how in the hell he could read my mind.
His head tilted as that smile slowly faded.
Intensely, he held eye contact with me. He held eye contact with me as he stood up from his chair, then rounded it to stand next to me.
My breaths grew faster as his hand reached out to touch my face.
He tilted my head back to take control of my eyes again.
As his fingers tickled down my throat, I shuddered.
“I have five days wit’ you.” He leaned closer, bringing his lips to my ear. “Imagine how often I’ll be on ya mind after I take each of these days to show you what life will be like with me.”
“That’s impossible,” I whispered breathlessly.
He chuckled lightly. “I’m a billionaire, my love. Nothing’s impossible.”
I wasn’t prepared for his lips to touch mine, but I didn’t freeze either. It was a quick kiss. One that left me wanting more.
He ran his thumb over my lips and said, “You want me to show you how compatible we are?”
Wantonly, I nibbled my bottom lip.
“Let me,” he mumbled against my lips.
This time, I was prepared. I closed my eyes and, thank goodness, I did. The act of our tongues intermingling caused me to feel emotions my eyes would’ve surely shown.
“Look at me when I kiss you, Justina,” he requested.
Why? I wanted to scream. He wants to torture you! Right! That was precisely his aim—
“I said, look at me, baby,” he commanded softly.
My eyes popped open and focused on his eyes. He was so damn seductive. I could lose my mind right here and damn the consequences. He drew back a little bit and smiled.
“See… That look in ya eyes is evidence that we belong together, Justina. Lie to me, so I can show you why lyin’ to me is a negative.”
I could do nothing but blink at him. The thinly veiled deranged look in his eyes chilled my blood and also heated it.
“Tell me I’m lyin’,” he coerced.
I licked my lips and said, “You’re not lying.”
He smirked. “Good girl.” Stepping back, he backtracked to his seat and sat back down. “Let’s finish eating, so I can get outta ya hair. The tension between us is too strong to fight much longer.”
“Right,” I muttered, still trying to de-escalate the fire blazing through my blood.
“Tell me ya thoughts on marriage,” he stated. I wasn’t sure how he could go from one hundred back to zero, but I was struggling.
“Um… Marriage is… Well, I thought marriage was something sacred, honorable, and meaningful.”
Sighing and finally able to calm my racing heart, I picked up my glass of wine and took a hefty sip.
Talking about my dysfunctional parents wasn’t what I wanted to do with Dane.
However, venting to him about my feelings was far better than venting to Nooki.
Nooki’s thoughts on relationships paralleled my mama’s.
“That’s the foundation of a perfect marriage,” Dane said.
“Nothing’s perfect,” I countered.
“A year from now, five years from now, ten years from now, twenty years from now… You get my drift. You gon’ eat those words, baby. Trust me.”
The glass in my hand paused at my lips. Dane gazed into my eyes, daring me to deny what he said. There was only one way to avoid falling into Dane’s trap. I had to hide.
Are you gon’ spend your vacation hiding?
Absolutely. I had to. Dane was dangerous as fuck.