I tell him what I ordered. “I’m starving. I might eat both.” He runs a hand through his hair as he mutters, “Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it. You need some wine?”
He sighs as he leans against the counter. “No, last thing I need is alcohol. I woke up hungover. The first time we went out she said she wanted kids, wanted half a dozen. This time she’s saying not for another five years. What the hell? She’s thirty. If she waits another five years there’s no time for six kids, two, maybe three tops, but then she’s talking spacing them two years apart. It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Why five years?”
“She wants her career secure enough for her to take maternity leave. Maybe I should be looking at younger women. I was sure at thirty she’d be ready for kids. I liked her dedication to her career, she has her own money, not a lot but enough. This is going to take a little more thought. I didn’t want a younger woman because I was worried they would be flighty. Now I’m wondering if they aren’t a better bet, maybe their career wouldn’t be such a big deal to them.”
“Not all younger women are flighty.” Bethany has a sense of humor, but she’s sharp as a Ginsu knife. Definitely not flighty.
He rolls his neck, and I hear cracks from here. “You think I got what I deserve.” It’s not a question.
I shake my head. “I want you to get what you want, if it makes you happy. I do think it’s good you need to take a step back to reassess. That’s all you’re doing now. There’s nothing wrong with looking at this from another angle.”
The doorbell goes off. “You’re right. You gonna help me reassess?”
“I’ll try.”
***
Bethany
The alert for the elevator goes off. I snatch my phone off the bedside table. It’s almost nine o’clock. Moving faster than I have in years, I make it to the front door to watch him through the peephole. Dante is stepping out of the elevator; he looks toward the door, then stops. I hold my breath until he shakes his head then goes into his place. Damn it. Climbing off the step stool, I sigh. This man is driving me nuts.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t had anything since the pretzel I bought at the Shedd, almost six hours ago. I let my stomach lead me into the kitchen. Nothing really catches my interest, then it smacks me across the back of the head. The barbeque I left over at Dante’s when I ran out last night. Hmm... I look down at what I’m wearing. Nope, not going to work.
Fuck it, this is war. He wants me, I want him. I don’t want some random guy. The idea of another man touching me sends my insides recoiling, and if he thinks he’s going to let another woman touch him, he’s got another thing coming. All we’re doing is wasting time.
Lydia’s instruction to press him has me reaching for tight silky black shorts. They are so tight, I can’t wear panties with them, works for me. I’m not wearing a bra, but I swap out the black silky camisole I have on for a blush pink one. Now, I’m ready.
I ring the doorbell. Almost a minute later Dante opens the door. Holy fuck he’s stunning. He’s shirtless, the better to see his yummy caramel skin. There’s another tattoo on his chest of piano keys with musical notes twisting up. The tattoo on his left shoulder is a depiction of the circles of Hell from Dante’s Inferno.
My eyes slide across his chest, where a light fuzz of brown hair doesn’t conceal his drool-inducing muscles. He’s only wearing tight boxer briefs, and they do nothing to hide—oh wow, it’s getting bigger. Is my mouth watering? I drag my eyes from his impressive bulge to find his eyes on my breasts.
“What?” He grinds the word out from between his clenched teeth.
“I’m hungry. I didn’t take the leftovers last night. I’m here for brisket and pickles.” Am I going to get wet every time I’m near him?
Without a word he steps back to allow me inside. I walk slowly in front of him, until I wonder if he can see how wet I am against the silky shorts. In the kitchen I’m doing my best to ignore him as I lean down to take out the brisket. Oh god, his hands are on my hips, holding me in place as he presses his hard, throbbing cock against my ass. I can’t fucking breathe, yet a little moan escapes me as his breath flutters against my ear.
“What a naughty girl you are, Bethany, coming over here barely dressed. Your delectable little body on show to entice me to fuck you. Hmm... I have to tell you I’m a tit man. Yours made my cock hard the second I saw them. Round, full, straining against your silky little camisole, they haunt my damn dreams. But you bending over in these shorts... You have an ass that’s making my cock leak. You feel it, Bethany? You bent over on all fours is exactly how I love to fuck. I love being able to pick which hole I’ll take.” I shiver, at once scared and excited at the thought of him there. It’s so dirty and bad and I can’t wait. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, I would make you come every way I fuck you. I smell your pussy, are you soaking wet for me?”
I moan my yes. The bastard laughs again as his hands tighten on my hips at the same time he presses his cock along the crevice of my ass.
“Is your pussy itching, aching for my cock?”
“Yes, please.” I’m desperate.
“Good. Now you know what it’s like. You little tease. Remember this the next time you think of coming over here nearly naked.” A rough nip of his teeth at my neck where it meets my shoulder. Even as it stings, the pain goes straight to my pussy in a tingle as sharp as an electric shock. Then he’s gone and I’m clutching the countertop to stay standing.
Well that didn’t go the way I planned. My head is in my hands as my body trembles in reaction to his touch, the feel of his hard body against mine. From far away I hear Eminem bitching about being rich. Dante Sabatini is an asshole to drive me close to the edge and leave me hanging. With a sigh I grab the brisket, pickles, and turkey and leave before I do something stupid.
7
Bethany
My alarm goes off, and I blink a few times as everything blurs. It’s a good thing I set it. I was getting lost in all the condos on the real-estate website. Holy crap, this is going to be harder than I thought. I toss my tablet away before I roll off the bed.