Rolling the Dice (All In Duet #0.5)
Page 4
I laughed. “No. I mean… I like the Tripp I’ve seen tonight. I never needed a fancy title or a suite like this.”
His hand played over my stomach and rose higher, cresting gently along the curve of my breasts, the soft tips of my nipples. I inhaled at his touch and watched his smile widen.
“Levees along the waterfront have broken. Front Street is flooding.”
The calm, almost mechanical voice sputtered through the walkie-talkie and I turned, sitting up on the couch. “Oh my God. Tripp, look!”
It was almost eerie, how slow the water seemed to move. I watched as it swept along the front of the shops, its strength deceptive until it came across something. A bike, leaning against the art shop, vanished into it. The glass window of the little theatre crumpled, a spiderweb forming, then disappeared, water gushing through the open hole. I thought of the interior, the velvet folding chairs, the signed memorabilia from actors—all would be destroyed.
I stood, walking to the window, and pressed a hand on the glass, reassured by its strength. In here, the air was so still. The whistle of the wind was muffled, the crash of the waves silent. I felt like I was watching the storm from a thousand miles away and not a few hundred feet.
A waterspout formed, the tiny twister growing, and I watched as the funnel of water grew closer to land, debris kicking up along its path.
Tripp came up behind me, his arms wrapping around me. “Shit,” he said softly.
“What’s going to happen tomorrow?” I watched as a maintenance shed crumpled under the force of the water, the sign bobbing by and then disappearing under the surf.
“We’ll figure it out. It’s a strong town. It’ll come back.”
“And what about us?” I turned to face him. “What happens with us?”
He tucked a piece of my bangs behind my ear. “Us is whatever you want it to be.” He watched me closely, and when I smiled, his mouth followed suit.
“I don’t want to lose what happened tonight.” I rose on my toes and lifted my chin, wanting a kiss, something to assure me that everything would be alright.
“Steph, I’ve waited a long time for this. If you want something between us, a hurricane couldn’t keep me away.” His voice was husky, his touch soft. He pulled me against him. When he lowered his lips, I found everything I wanted in his kiss.
If you’d like to know more about Dario Capece and read his love story, please pick up Even Money, which is currently available in eBook, paperback, and audiobook.
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DARIO
This woman was fucking nuts. He’d come here to have a serious conversation with her, to talk through everything, and she was mixing his common sense with tequila and downing it for sport. He should be pushing her off. Giving her the sort of look that put a thousand casino employees in their place.
She worked her hands through the thin opening of his zipper and the pocket of his underwear and wrapped her hand around him, the throb of his cock pounding at the delicate yet firm touch of her hand.
Jesus. He stared at her, his eyes struggling between the playful curve of that mouth and what lay underneath her top. She pulled him free and his thoughts scattered at the sight of him in her hand. He pulled her shirt lower, his dick twitching at the sight of her breasts, pale and firm, covered with a black lace bra.
She let go of his cock and pressed on his thighs, pushing herself up his body. He shifted against the seat, and she straddled him, her knees tight to his hips, his cock still at attention between them. She leaned forward, the fabric of her shirt tickling him, and put her mouth to his ear.
“What happened to my phone?”
“I had it turned off.” He slid his hands up her torso and moved the right one, pulling the top of her bra down and sitting up, his mouth finding her nipple.
Her hand tightened around him. “Why?”
He swiped his tongue across the nipple’s tip, then looked up at her. “It was no longer secure.” He squeezed her waist, then nodded to the other seat. “Sit. I need to talk to you.”
She looked down, her hand still gripping him, his dick at full mast and not listening to the itinerary. She let out an awkward laugh, then released him. “Oh…kay.” Adjusting her skirt, she moved to the seat, her arms crossing over her chest in the petulant move of a child. “This feels like I’m in trouble.”
Dario tucked himself back into his pants, wincing at the action, and zipped himself up. “You went to the professor’s apartment.”
“Yep.” She snapped out the word in an insolent fashion, and his anger mounted at her nonchalance. He forced his features to stay calm, his voice mild. “Why?”
She looked at him. “I needed to end things with him.”
Half the tension leaked from his body. “And did you?”
“I did.” She glanced at her watch, a cheap ceramic number that was beneath her. She deserved everything. A Rolex on that wrist. Diamond studs in those ears. La Perla supporting those breasts. Her own Rolls and driver. “I have to go to work.” She glanced out the window, toward the building.
“You’re fine. You didn’t seem concerned about the time when you had my dick in your hand.”
Her eyes flashed, and maybe he’d gone too far. But this … this was nothing compared to what he’d felt, watching the video of her strolling out of that prick’s place, a smile on her face. “I don’t want you to see him again. Or see anyone else.”
Another woman might have swooned at the words. She didn’t.
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