Love in Purgatory (De La Fuente #2)

by Lexi Buchanan

  “You going to come and watch your brother play?” Mike asked, sounding hopeful.

  “Yeah, I love watching Kasey.” She followed Mike into the living room where the guys were already spread out and ready for the start of the game.

  Kasey was something to watch on the ice, it was as though he was a different person. On the ice, he was just as aggressive as the other players, even more so in some cases, and off the ice he was her caring, loving brother…although, like all brothers he could be a dick on occasion.

  There was only a three year difference between her and Kasey, so she’d grown up with him being that annoying older brother who would do anything to get a rise out of her. She, of course, would run to their older brother Eric, and ask him to beat Kasey up. He never did, but he’d get Kasey to back off, at least for five minutes.

  She loved her brothers, and no matter what, they’d always be her brothers, except Dante. They’d never lived in the same house because he’d been away at school when she’d been born, and he’d only come home and spent the odd night at the house when he had to talk to their father about something.

  So they were strangers until that day she’d kissed him…and then…what were they now? She wasn’t sure but she knew that she only had the love of a woman for a man she couldn’t live without. Her heart beat wildly for Dante and, mind made up, she planned on getting her man eventually, and only hoped that he didn’t love the church more than he loved her.

  Chapter Seven

  Another wedding and, for once, not one that he was residing over, which meant Dante could sit back and relax, or pretend to at least. He couldn’t settle completely because he knew that Emelia was around somewhere, and it wouldn’t be long before he had to be in her company.

  After their exchange over the holidays, he wasn’t sure if she would willingly seek him out like he was used to her doing. With there being so much family around, they wouldn’t be able to avoid the other.

  Even though his eyes craved the sight of Emelia, it would hurt him being so close to her knowing how off limits she really was to him. Perhaps he should have worn his collar, instead of going without, like Mateo had suggested. At least then, he’d have more of a reminder of just how forbidden Emelia was.

  Years ago, he’d been so close to claiming her that he’d been terrified of the consequences. And now, because of the decision he made, he had to live with it, which meant he had to try and have a life that didn’t include her.

  He laughed to himself while he knocked a whiskey down his throat. He’d never be able to get Emelia out of his life, even if he truly wanted her gone. There was a connection between them that would always pull them together. Fate could be cruel sometimes.

  On his third whiskey in thirty minutes, Dante realized that his brother Eric had sat down beside him, but Dante had no clue how long he’d been there. It also didn’t go unnoticed that when he drained his glass, Eric pointedly stared at him, and the glass.

  “I don’t need to ask what’s wrong with you, do I?” Eric drawled.

  Dante covered the glass with his hand to prevent the bartender from pouring him another. He’d get drunk later, and maybe get a night’s sleep for once. “Everything is just dandy.”

  “I know you, and nothing is right...which is why you need to sit down and talk with Emelia.”

  His eyes snapped to meet Eric’s. “You’re kidding right? I need to stay away from her. I can’t be alone in the same room with her, Eric.” Pushing away from the bar, Dante paced in front of his brother. “It’s the only thing I can do, regardless of how much we’re both hurting. No more Emelia...I’m a priest and need to forget about her.”

  Eric sat thoughtfully for a few minutes before he said, “If it’s the fact that you’re a priest that bothers you, over the fact that she’s your sister, then perhaps, you don’t need to talk after all.”

  Dante frowned. “That...doesn’t make sense.”

  Before he could question Eric more, Aiden joined them, and after a pause in which he looked both Dante and Eric over, he sat at the bar. “What’s happening with you two?”

  “Eric’s decided to confess all his sins,” Dante said dryly.

  Eric sputtered and narrowed his eyes at his brother, while Aiden laughed. “We all know you don’t have time to listen to them all.”

  Eric punched Aiden on the arm. “You’ve probably got more sins than me with all the pussy that got thrown your way in Europe.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” Dante moaned, knowing his brothers had only gotten started.

  “As long as you’re not touching the pussy, what’s the problem?” Aiden grinned, and started laughing at the pissed look on Dante’s face.

  “You two are being lousy brothers right now. I’m going to see who else I can find.”

  Dante walked away and he could hear their laughter following him. Normally, he’d be able to laugh off the sexual innuendos and phrases his brothers liked to use, but lately, he found he couldn’t. He needed a distraction before he lost his mind.

  “Oh, there’s the priest.”

  The words grated on his nerves, more so because they’d come out of Caprice’s mouth, his brother Mateo’s fiancée. He was of the two minds to pretend he hadn’t heard the comment, but chances were his brother would be with her.

  Then he heard, “Don’t be an insulting ass, Caprice,” coming out of Emelia’s mouth.

  He couldn’t keep the grin off his face at Emelia’s words, when he turned and faced them. “Brothers,” he paused when his gaze rested on Emelia, and he couldn’t bring himself to call her sister, “Emelia...and Caprice.” His manners, when around others were usually something that his mother would have been proud of, but he was on a short fuse at the moment, and Caprice was about to push the limits.

  Diego had his arm slung around Emelia’s neck while he whispered into her ear. If you had no idea who they were, you’d think they were lovers, but even though he knew that they were twins, he was jealous of how freely Diego got to touch his Emelia.

  “You look different,” Caprice observed, which drew everyone’s eyes to him. “You don’t have that white thing around your neck or the dress on. You did that at the last wedding.”

  Emelia broke away from Diego and spun toward Caprice. Her face was a mere inch from Caprice’s, and the way Emelia leaned in, eyes flashing as her arms flayed about, it was clear that she was furious with Mateo’s fiancée. “You are so rude,” she steamed, “and ignorant.”

  Caprice gasped and backed into Mateo, who looked more amused than anything as he raised his brow. Dante glanced to Diego and realized his youngest brother was enjoying the show and that there wouldn’t be any help with Emelia from that direction.

  “You need to apologize to Dante, right now,” Emelia demanded, her fists clenched at her sides.

  He needed to do something to prevent a scene at Ramon and Noah’s wedding because it looked like Emelia was all fired up on his behalf.

  If he wasn’t so in love with the stubborn woman, he’d find it amusing, but now he had to go and get up close and personal with her to calm her down.

  “It’s a collar, and a cassock...not a white thing and dress,” Emelia continued as she lectured the woman.

  His brothers watched him as he approached Emelia. They probably thought he’d be the one to get her wrath if he intervened, but only he knew otherwise.

  “Emelia,” he called and saw her body grow still. “C’mon, let it go.” He stood directly behind her, and slid his arm around the front of her stomach so that he could move her away.

  Be strong, he told himself as Emelia’s back became plastered against his front. His hand flexed on her stomach as he finally hauled her into his arms and away.

  While his heart tried to beat out of his chest, Dante heard Caprice mumbling on and on to Mateo. Why didn’t he protect her? What kind of fiancé was he for letting his sister threaten her?

  Caprice did have a point, but while he held Emelia against him, he didn’t want
to think about them, he wanted to enjoy the feel of the woman in his arms.

  Emelia wiggled and rubbed against him, which brought utter delight and arousal to his groin area. An area, which lay dead until he let his thoughts drift…

  It can’t happen. Let her go!

  He released Emelia and stepped back—the air thick with something...he refused to call it arousal. Mateo watched him, a frown marred his brow before Dante averted his eyes, putting more space between them.

  After Emelia’s outburst, they remained silent, but with relief, he spotted Sebastian McKenzie heading toward them.

  With little or no explanation, Dante excused himself and moved quickly away before anyone could decide to follow him. He needed a clear head and, right now, it was full of Emelia, and the whiskey he drank hadn’t helped.

  Perhaps if he drank more, he’d be so numb with alcohol that Emelia would become a distant memory, and he certainly wouldn’t get an erection. Men lost the ability to get ‘it up’ when under the influence, or so he’d read. As a priest, he led a celibate life, and being hard as a steel rod wasn’t a huge problem. It was the urge to go somewhere and yank his own change that was the problem, and a sin for him as a priest in the eyes of God.

  As he approached the fence, around the main paddock, he quickly rearranged himself to a more comfortable position before he leaned forward and watched a couple of horses frolic around.

  He just needed a breather before he hunted out more alcohol. His body throbbed with unwanted desire, which couldn’t go on.

  In the six years since he’d given his life up for the church, he hadn’t touched himself—masturbated—not even once. The thought, and on occasion, the desperation in him to do just that had eventually been overruled by his will to stay true to his vows. It would be the biggest sin of all to not only masturbate but to do it with his sister in his head.

  He would watch Ramon and Noah get married, and then he’d plunk his ass down at the bar and stay there until he was too numb to remember his own name. Perhaps then, he’d be able to forget hers.

  Chapter Eight

  “You need to do something about Dante,” Eric demanded, standing next to her while she brooded.

  She didn’t want to go near him right now because all he’d done was ignore her all day, since her run in with Caprice. It hurt being ignored by the one man who made her heart beat faster, but there you had it.

  “Emelia?” Eric said, his voice layered with impatience.

  “I heard you,” Emelia turned to face her brother, “the first time.” She sighed. “You can’t seriously expect me to go and talk to him while he’s drunk, can you?”

  “We both know why he’s drunk, and I can’t leave right now. Diego has gone off with a guest and I’m not sure where the others are.” Eric dragged his hands through his hair. “Look, I know you’re both hurting, and if there was a different way¸ then I’d choose it but there isn’t. He’s had far too much to drink and needs to be taken back to the hotel.”

  She wanted so badly to go over to Dante and hold him close, but she didn’t think her heart could take being pushed away from him again.

  “If he’s so drunk, how will I get him in the car?”

  “I can help you do that and then the doorman at the hotel will help you inside with him.”

  Against her better judgment, she searched the room until she found Dante...her vision filling with red when the woman next to him leaned into him, flashing her boobs.

  She heard Eric chuckle as she marched over, and peeled the woman’s hand from Dante’s arm. “I’ll take it from here,” she snarled, her fist curling in an effort to control her rage…all she wanted to do was rip the woman’s fingers off.

  “You don’t have to be like that. I didn’t know he was taken,” she mumbled.

  “He’s taken by God, so keep your hands to yourself.” Emelia faced Dante and met his gaze.

  He might be drunk, but his unwavering gaze burned into her soul. “C’mon, let’s get you back to the hotel,” she mumbled, and reached for his arm.

  Dante swayed when he got to his feet, and would have face planted the floor if not for Eric’s grip on his arm.

  When he’d looked at her, he’d looked totally Dante, but as she watched Eric help him to the waiting car, she wasn’t sure if her Dante was still inside. Dante sprawled out on the backseat, which didn’t leave much room for her as she climbed in after him.

  “Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all,” Eric observed.

  “Didn’t I already say that?”

  “I should have listened.”

  “Eric, go back to Sylvia. We’ll be fine.” With her words final, she pulled the door closed and gave the driver the address of the hotel.

  All the while she felt Dante’s dark gaze on her. It felt like he could see through her clothing to the heart and soul of her beneath. The heat that came from him made her afraid to turn her head to look at him, but when she did, she was captured in the blackness that surrounded him.

  The man sprawled beside her took up most of the backseat with how he sat. His back was in the corner, with one leg out to the side on the floor and his other leg bent at the knee as it rested against the seat. Her gaze moved over him in a slow caress that she was unable to prevent.

  His suit was black, and so was the silk shirt he wore beneath, which had a few buttons open at the neck. His unruly black hair fell against his forehead and gave him a rakish look. As her gaze traveled further south, her eyes widened at the sight of the large bulge at his groin before they quickly moved back to his face.

  Dante’s eyes were black with a mixture of anger and arousal, but she felt brave being with him while he was letting her caress him with her eyes. Her eyes dipped lower again and she searched out his package from between the folds of his clothes…and some package it was.

  It twitched and grew before her eyes, so much so that Dante groaned and finally covered himself with his hand. As Emelia licked her lips, she wished that it were her own hand that covered him.

  She was a twenty-seven year old virgin because that night they sealed their first kiss, she’d given herself to him. She would save herself…even if they could never be together. The reasons that kept them apart were huge, but they’d never stopped her from looking, and look she did.

  Just once, she’d like to know what it was like to be touched as a woman, and to touch the naked man, himself. She knew what to do thanks to the videos she’d found online, but she had no idea how it would feel with a real flesh and blood man. With Dante.

  Both stayed silent as the car weaved in and out of traffic in downtown Lexington. Emelia’s heart pounded in her chest as her arousal grew the more she looked at him. He looked half asleep but his body was certainly awake. His arousal throbbed behind his zipper, just like Emelia’s arousal throbbed between her legs.

  Butterflies fluttered around in her belly while she pointedly stared at his groin. She wondered what he’d look like. Whether or not he was shaved. Would he weep on the crown of his penis with arousal? She had no idea because she’d never seen one up close and personal. She didn’t have to wonder about his girth or length, though, because she’d seen that for herself before he covered himself with his hand.

  “Emelia,” he groaned, roughly, “please stop staring.” He closed his eyes and looked like he slept.

  She didn’t really think he was asleep, and that was proven when the car came to a stop and her door was opened. Dante’s eyes snapped open as he shook his head, probably trying to shake off his intoxication. He’d suffer tomorrow.

  The doorman’s interruption brought Emelia’s gaze up to his, and she quickly took the man’s offered hand to help her out of the car. Dante wasn’t as lucky and more or less crawled out before the doorman realized what was wrong and took his arm to get Dante on his feet.

  “Um, perhaps I should get someone to help you upstairs.”

  “No, I’m fine...I think,” Dante mumbled, before he stumbled in to her.

 
; Emelia slipped her arm around his waist, and tried not to notice how he felt against her. Dante’s arm went around her shoulders before they moved to the elevators. Once inside, she kept hold of him, but let him lean against one of the walls to take some of the strain off her.

  All too soon, they reached their floor when Emelia asked him, “Where’s your room card?”

  “Pocket,” Dante mumbled.

  Luckily, she knew his room number and shoved him against the door while she hesitated to search his pockets. She met his gaze and was thrown by the heated look in his eyes.

  Just get him into his room and leave.

  No matter how many times she told herself that, she knew that she’d have to putter around to make sure he had water and painkillers in arm’s reach of the bed before she left. She had to leave.

  Inhaling, she told herself to stop being stupid and to hurry before he passed out on her. “Behave,” she warned, and started searching through his pockets.

  “A little bit to the right,” Dante moaned, and panted with his eyes closed.

  She quickly looked at his face before her eyes dropped to his groin and realized if she went a bit to the right that she’d be touching his rigid flesh.

  The room card in hand, she quickly withdrew, thrust the card, with shaky hands, into the slot and maneuvered them into the room.

  With a bit of pushing and shoving she had him ready to fall backward onto his bed. “Let’s take your jacket off first.” Her voice was overly bright as she slowly slipped his jacket off.

  Dante tried to get his belt buckle undone before he started on the buttons of his shirt. Emelia rolled her eyes at his lack of coordination. “I’ll do it.” She knocked his hands away and felt the heat reach her neck before it crawled up into her face with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

  Pulling the shirt off him, Emelia couldn’t help the kiss that she placed on the center of his spine, and she delighted in his response, which was somewhere between a growl and a groan. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage his pants, but depositing the shirt on the chair, she moved back in front of him and slowly, with nervous fingers, made quick work of his belt.