His Dirty Promises

by Fiona Murphy

  “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.

  I gave myself a half hour to get ready. Which is funny because I usually take ten minutes. I wish I was one of those girly girls who layer their clothes and accessorize and have the perfect lip gloss to match, but I’m so not. There is one tube of mascara in my purse, one pressed powder foundation, and last year I went nuts and added concealer and a second lipstick, a coral in addition to the burgundy one I already have.

  At least I kind of styled my hair, as in I braided it last night after my shower. I undo the braid, happy with the slight curl. I spray it with hairspray, to keep it in place without weighing it down. Even though I brushed my teeth this morning I brush them again and wash my face.

  I go into my closet without any excitement. I have no idea what I should wear. I flick through my clothes, no, no, oh god no, nope, no a thousand times. Wait—I bought it online then freaked when I put it on. It’s a white cotton sundress with cute eyelets at the top and the bottom, but around the hips it clings like a second skin. Hmm... do I dare?

  Knocking on Dante’s door twenty minutes later, I’m holding my breath. When he opens the door he goes still. I’m so glad I dared. It’s like a wave of fire has hit me, scorching me everywhere. “Go change.” He raps the words out, and they hit me with a sting.

  Asshole. “No. I’m comfortable, we’re going to be outside and it’s a little warm out today.”

  “If you don’t take it off and put something else on, I’ll take it off you myself.”

  I’m a freak: the leashed violence within him is melting my bones. I want to launch myself at him, only I don’t think it would be the best idea right now. I shake my head.

  His jaw tightens. “You like turning me on, Bethany? You like getting me hard for you?” He moves closer to me until he’s only inches away, his mouth close to my ear so hot air brushes against it. I can’t move, can barely breathe. “You’re putting your body on display for me, daring me to touch you, begging me to fuck you.” I’m trembling as my body leans into his, desperate for the feel of him against me. Hard rough hands slide up my arms then to the back of my neck. His mouth is close, so close to mine.

  “I’m not going over to Che’s place with your sister right there and me with my cock hard, desperate for your body.” I hear the fabric tearing loud around me. I look down, shocked to see the dress in a puddle at my feet. Eyes wide I look up to Dante. His cheek jerks as he studies me. My bra is a fine silky white, and my panties are also white though they aren’t a set. I didn’t want my underwear showing through the white of the dress. He nods to my door. “Change. Now.”

  I back away slowly, not bothering to pick up the dress before a shiver hits me from the air-conditioning, sending me into a run. It takes a few minutes for me to catch my breath as I lean against the door.

  Holy fuck, what is up with me? Why is it when he gets all primitive I get all wet? I didn’t think it was something that would ever turn me on. I dreamed of soft kisses, gen
tle touches, not orders given in a growl, not threats of a spanking. Aren’t I supposed to be a feminist? Does it make me a bad feminist to want the man who turns me on to grab me, throw me down and fuck me on the floor? It feels like it should. Only I don’t care.

  Shit, I push away from the door to run and change. Back in my closet, I pick the blue and white maxi skirt I originally thought of wearing and a boatneck top with white and blue stripes.

  Dante is leaning against the wall at the elevators. He straightens as I come closer then nods. “Better. We need to pick up Enzo on the way. He’s pretty sure he wants to have a few drinks, and he’s not interested in sleeping over.”

  I curtsy in front of him. “I’m glad I meet with your approval. Anything else, sire?”

  He shakes his head as he presses the button, but I see him trying not to smile. With a hand he waves me into the elevator ahead of him. I’m starting to wonder when the elevator is ever going to stop, but finally it does. The doors open to an underground garage park. This is on a different level than the one I’m parked on, it has storage lockers and a guard by the elevator and another right by the exit.

  We walk down a line of cars, Mercedes, Audi, Porsche, Ferrari, Audi, Bugatti, McLaren, Porsche, Mercedes, Audi, another Porsche, Land Rover, another Ferrari, then another Mercedes, this one chirps. Dante moves to open the passenger door. A Maybach, I’m not impressed, okay maybe a little. I sink into the black leather seat. Talk about plush.

  He gets in beside me. “Seat belt.”

  I put my seat belt on; even the seat belt is nicer than the one in my car. Then again, I have a Corolla. “I’m surprised you have a sedan. I kind of thought you would be a sports car kind of guy.”

  “I am, the Ferrari out your window is mine. No way three people will fit in it. I got this when I found out a woman I was seeing had a kid. Never had to use it though. I never met him, he was with the grandmother the whole time.” He hits a button and classical piano music fills the car.

  “You bought a car for a kid you never met? On the off chance you would need to drive him around?”

  “I thought the kid was important to the woman. Turns out I was wrong.” I wince as he takes a turn so fast I don’t know how we stay on all four wheels.

  “It’s sad a woman’s kid wasn’t important to her. Why even have a kid if you aren’t going to raise it?”

  “Ah, the naivete of youth. Women have kids for many other reasons than because they want to raise them.”

  It feels like a rebuke of my age. I don’t like it. “Fuck that, I’m twenty-four, not twelve. It’s bullshit to say I don’t know what I’m talking about or what I want isn’t valid until I’m thirty or something. I get there are things I haven’t been through, things I haven’t seen that could change my perceptions and me. There are also some things that will never change. The core of who I am and the things I value most won’t.”

  He’s quiet for a minute, then he nods. “I stand corrected.”

  In less than five chaotic minutes we pull up to the curb with a tire-screeching stop. I see Enzo waiting. My hand is on the door. “Don’t, he’ll sit in the back. He prefers it.”

  Enzo gets in. “Hey, Bethany. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” The words are barely out of my mouth before Dante guns the gas, flinging my head back. He cuts off a driver to get into another lane. “Oh my god, you’re one of those drivers. Let me out, I’ll walk.”

  “Shut up, I’m a good driver. I’ve never wrecked once, not even a fender bender.”

  I close my eyes as he slams on the brakes for a red light. Enzo laughs. “Now you know why I sit in the backseat. He is telling the truth, he’s never been in a wreck before. However, he drives what amounts to two days out of an entire month, so there’s that to consider. Keep your eyes closed, it’s helps.”

  “Why aren’t you driving?” I groan as the seat belt tightens for another hard stop.

  “I have a Bugatti, it won’t seat more than two.”

  “Thank god I haven’t eaten in a few hours. I’d probably throw up.”

  “Quit bitching. I’m not bad,” Dante mutters.

  My eyes are squeezed closed. I don’t know where the honk comes from, I’m not opening my eyes. “Right, it’s perfectly normal to get honked at four times in ten minutes. It’s probably because you’re so hot they want your number.”

  Tires squeal as a turn takes the car up on a curb. Ouch. The seat belt cuts into my shoulder. Another hard stop. “Fine. You drive.”

  I’m sitting stunned as Dante gets out of the car, slamming his door before rounding the car to my side. He opens my door. “Come on, you think you can drive better, prove it.”

  I yank my head to Enzo, my eyes wide in question. Enzo nods. “Go for it.”

  Releasing my seat belt, I put my hand in Dante’s. Electricity runs in a pulsing current through me as he pulls me up. Our eyes meet, and my whole body goes hot. I’m barely aware of moving. His hand squeezes mine gently before he lets it go. For a moment I’m lost without his touch until lightly his hand wraps around my arm, then presses me down; only now do I realize I’m at the open door of the driver’s seat. Enzo sneezes, and I remember we aren’t alone. My body still humming from his touch, I get in and put my seat belt on as Dante closes the door.

  It takes a minute to adjust the seat and mirrors. When I check the rearview mirror, I catch Enzo’s eye; he winks at me and smiles. I straighten my back, then put the car into gear. A glance down the street shows me it’s clear, so I ease into traffic. Woah, the car reacts instantly as I accelerate. I understand why Dante had a hard time staying under the speed limit, it’s like we’re gliding along on glass.

  “From now on Bethany drives everywhere.”

  “Shut up,” Dante mutters out the window. “I’m a good driver, you two are pussies.”

  I giggle then glance at Enzo. “You guys aren’t used to anyone telling you that you aren’t the best at something, are you?”

  Enzo shrugs. “It’s because it’s rare we aren’t the best at something.”

  Laughing, I nod. “Okay.”

  Dante remarks on a building for sale. For the rest of the drive they talk business. A few times they try to include me, but I shake my head—I need to concentrate on the road. Their deep voices fill the car. It’s soothing until a few times when they get loud, then seconds later they are laughing. It really is an Italian thing.

  ***

  Dante

  I’m trying to focus on what Enzo is saying, only it isn’t easy with Bethany close enough to touch. More times than I can count my eyes wander over her. Her gorgeous body covered only in a thin white bra and white silky panties is burned into the back of my eyelids. Every time I blink, I see her and my whole body aches with need. All I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder, take her ass to bed and spend hours buried deep inside her.

  Christ, I barely recognize the animal she makes me every time she gets close to me. It doesn’t help when I see her reaction, smell her pussy flood when my hunger drives me to do shit I never would with any other woman. No other woman has had the effect on me Bethany does; no woman has made my whole body tighten with need at the mere thought of her; no other woman has felt so good against me I never want to let her go. For those reasons alone I should stay the fuck away from her. She’s too young—she has so much more she needs to experience before getting locked down the way I would demand once I tasted her.

  She sighs, and the small sound draws my eyes to her again. Enzo says my name again, shit. “Sorry, my phone is buzzing in my pocket. Hold up.” I take out my phone and check my email. Nothing interesting. “What were you saying?”

  Enzo nods before asking whether I was serious about trading in my boat. I shrug. “Maybe, it’s over two years old now. Or maybe do some upgrades on it.”

  “Is this the four-hundred-foot yacht Alicia and Cesare got married on? You want to trade it in even though it’s only two years old?” Bethany’s voice goes up an octave as she stresses
two years old.

  She turns into the driveway. “I’m thinking about it. I’m not sure if I will or not.”

  Matteo comes tearing out of the house, heading right for me. “Dede!” he squeals before he launches himself at me. I catch him and swing him up in the air. He giggles in delight. I love this kid—he’s nuts, loud, fearless, and hilarious. He’s definitely a Sabatini.

  I follow Alicia and Bethany into the house. Che is prepping the steaks for the grill. He nods. “Is the CCTV messed up or did Bethany drive up here?”

  “Yes, thank god. No liquor for her, she’s driving us back,” Enzo answers.

  “I’m a good driver, damn it. You people are pussies.”

  “Dante, eh.” Che gestures to Matteo. Matteo giggles as he squeezes my neck tight.

  My bad. “Dispiacente.”

  Shaking his head, he calls for Alicia. “Little ears.”

  Alicia takes Matteo, who whines as she kisses him. “Bad Uncle Dante with his potty mouth,” Alicia murmurs in English.

  “I said I was sorry.” I kiss Matteo’s head. He throws his head back then sticks his bottom lip out as Alicia carries him out of the room.

  ***

  Bethany

  Alicia comes into the family room with a pouting Matteo. I kind of understand what she’s saying, something about a promise to play later. She offers Matteo an orange, and he takes it with glee.

  “You’re looking well rested. What have you been up to?”

  I shrug, keeping my eyes on Matteo. “Trying to learn Italian, napping, knitting, yoga, reading. Not much.”

  “You haven’t taken the time to get to know Dante, your new brother?”

  No, no, no. “He’s not my brother. Dante is my next-door neighbor and your brother-in-law.”