Falling for Dante

by DJ Hunnam

  "Dante, I need you. Now."

  I watched him through the mirror as he dropped his pants and sheathed his cock with a condom he produced from his pocket. Fiery anticipation built deep inside my body, every fiber of my being tuned to his frequency. He stroked his length several times, lining up against my aching center.

  "Spread your legs," he demanded. "And hold on." With a growl, he plunged into me, filling me full. Blissfully so. My head flew back, my fiery hair splaying across his chest.

  "Oh God, that feels good," I said with a whimper.

  He groaned his agreement, holding me in place as he impaled me over and over, a twinge of pain mixing with pleasure so sweet tears pricked my eyes. The musky scent of sex mingled in the air with our whimpers and moans. I barely registered the muffled voices of people in the bar chanting the countdown, because his pace stayed frantic. Animalistic.

  "Ten."

  His broad palms spanned my bare hips, fingertips digging so deep, angry red marks appeared on my pale skin.

  "Nine."

  My feet left the ground with his next deep thrust. He wrapped one hand in my hair and yanked my head back, his soft nips down my neck, in contrast to the pain.

  "Eight."

  The weight of his body pressed me further over the sink, stealing the breath from my lungs as he continued to drive into me. I grabbed the sides of the sink, my fingers aching for relief.

  "Seven."

  His thumb found my clit and he strummed, playing me like an instrument.

  "Six... Five... Four..."

  The friction he created with his finger was all I needed and I screamed out his name as liquid warmth blossomed between my legs.

  "Three... Two... One..."

  I watched him in the mirror as he fucked me into the next year. With half-lidded eyes and lips parted in pleasure, he drove into me one last time, his grunts echoing off the walls. He fell on top of my trembling body while muffled cheers erupted from the bar.

  "Happy New Year's," he said, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss.

  When he relinquished my lips, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My eyes sparkled and my cheeks were flushed pink. I had allowed him to fuck me in a dirty bathroom. I should have been disgusted, but giddiness was the only emotion coursing through my body.

  I cleaned up as quickly as I could, shoving my thong into my purse and smoothing down my dress. After disposing of the condom and buttoning his pants, Dante tugged me into his arms.

  "Let's get out of here."

  "Okay. I just need to let Jake know." He stiffened, and I couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up at his expense. "Dante, there's no need to be jealous. Jake is gay."

  He pulled back, incredulous. "What?"

  "You heard me. Have you ever seen a straight man wear pinstriped pants embroidered with martini glasses?"

  "I just thought he was a New Yorker with whack style."

  "Would you mind running to the convenience store on the corner and grabbing more ice?" Janice asked my brother, while she set wine glasses on the island in their kitchen. "Oh, and buy some Lemon San Pellegrino's for Cassie. She's addicted to those right now."

  With an audible groan, Damian stopped thumbing through his phone and looked up.

  "I can go," I said, noticing the exasperated look on my brother's face.

  "Either way. But I need one of you to help with the rest of the decorations." Damian jumped up, the relief on his face comical as he practically ran out the door for ice.

  "Isn't this so cute?" Janice asked, holding up a stuffed bee.

  "Uh, yeah, super cute," I said, feigning excitement.

  Cassie and Talon were expecting their first child. This baby shower was unlike any other that I'd attended. Not that I'd been to very many. But the showers I'd been to, consisted of crappy food with even shittier games where people were obligated to guess the type of baby food smeared in a diaper.

  Janice had undertaken the planning of Cassie's baby shower like it was a marketing project at her firm. She'd hired one of the best caterers in town and transformed my brother's penthouse into a venue fit for a wedding. Several rows of long tables outfitted with purple and hunter green linen, sparkling silverware, and fine China spanned the living room. Beautiful centerpieces filled with sunflowers complemented the yellow streamers and honeycomb decorations hanging from the ceiling above each table.

  The theme was "Sweet as Honey". Which was spot on, since Cassie and Talon were two of the nicest people I'd ever met. Their baby was bound to be as well if genetics played any part in it. The invitations had been in the shape of a beehive, the signature cocktail was a vanilla-infused vodka lemonade, and Janice had personally wrapped dozens of Burt's Bees grab bags.

  We both set to work. I was tasked with hanging strings of fake bees over the kitchen island, while Janice tinkered with the antique buffet. Twenty minutes later, Damian returned with bags of ice and Dante in tow.

  "How is the decorating coming along?" Dante asked.

  "Save me," I mouthed. Dante just laughed and sauntered up to the island, helping me down when I'd finished hanging the last of the bees.

  "You look good," he said.

  I glanced down at my flared skirt and green blouse. "Thanks. You too." His dark wash jeans and plain white Polo highlighted his lean frame. I'd yet to see Dante in anything that didn't make my heart race. It had only been a few hours since we'd seen each other, but my body warmed like it had been years. He pulled me aside when Janice and Damian started arguing over the best spot for the beehive-shaped cake.

  "Are you coming home with me tonight?"

  "I thought we could stay here."

  "There are things I plan on doing to you that your brother should not overhear," Dante whispered.

  My giggle drew my brother's gaze which immediately soured when he saw the guilty blush burning my cheeks. I elbowed Dante and gave my brother an apologetic smile.

  "If you would just move in with me, we could spend every night together and wouldn't have to worry about your brother giving us the stink eye."

  "I'm not moving in with you," I said, laughing it off. "Come on. I have something to finish before the party starts."

  Dante walked beside me with his arm wrapped around my waist. Once inside my bedroom, I picked up the tiny baby booties I had been working on for the last week.

  "I didn't know you crocheted," Dante mused.

  "There are a lot of things you don't know about me," I stated with a sly grin.

  "Like what?"

  I placed my index finger on my chin and paused for effect. "Did you know that I'm a terrible cook?"

  "Uh, yeah. You tried to bake cookies for Damian and me once and used cornstarch instead of baking soda?"

  "Hey, that's not that weird. They are both white powders, used in baking. Okay. Did you know that in high school I was voted the girl most likely to join the Peace Corps?"

  "That's not that surprising, babe," he said, sitting down beside me.

  "Oh fine," I grumbled. "What about you? What were you voted mostly like to do?"

  "Most likely to join the mile-high club before age twenty-one."

  "Are you serious? That was a category at your school?"

  "Nah, I'm just teasing you," he said with a chuckle. I elbowed him in the side and then resumed crocheting. "I was voted most likely to play in a Super Bowl."

  "Oh," I said, glancing back his direction. Disappointment laced his words, even though he pretended nonchalance. "Does it bum you out?"

  "A Super Bowl ring would have been icing on the cake. I just miss playing ball."

  I wasn't sure what to say, so I squeezed his hand. I had never excelled at or loved anything the way Dante had football. The loss had to have been devastating.

  "Give me something good," he said, forcing a smile. "A secret nobody else knows about you."

  I finished the last loop and set the booties in my lap. "Okay, when I was a senior, I told my parents I was going to stay the night at Crissy's. Instead, I took th
e train to New York City, by myself, and hung out at St. Mark's Bookshop, all weekend long."

  He started laughing and flopped back onto the bed. "Oh, my God, is that really the best you got? An illicit weekend in an indie bookshop?"

  "Don't be a jerk," I said, slapping his stomach. He grabbed my hand and pulled me on top of him.

  "Yet another reason we should move in together. So, I can properly corrupt you."

  He played with my hair while I tried to formulate a response. "Janice is pregnant," I blurted out, hoping to change the subject.

  "She is?"

  "Yep," I said, unable to hide my excitement. I was thrilled to be an aunt again. And this time I would be located in the same city as my niece or nephew.

  "Do you think Damian's ready for that?" Concern furrowed Dante's brow, and it reminded me of another reason why I loved this man. His undying devotion to my brother.

  "When are you ever really ready?" I said with a shrug.

  "I'm ready," he drawled.

  My ovaries burst into song before my brain stepped in as the master conductor to cut them off. The topic of kids had never come up, before. And while I'd never shied away from the idea, I was not ready to take that giant step into adulthood.

  "Don't look so scared," he said. "I don't mean right now. Although I wouldn't be opposed to practicing right this very second."

  He turned my giggle into a gasp when he pushed me onto my back and sucked the delicate lobe of my ear into his mouth.

  "Dante, we don't have time for-"

  "The party doesn't start for another hour. It's been too long, babe. I need a taste to tide me over." The husky warmth of his words washed over the sensitive flesh below my ear. With a satisfied moan, he sunk to his knees and dragged me to the edge of the bed. He forced my skirt up around my waist.

  "Are these new?" he asked, running his fingers along the edge of my pink lace panties.

  "Yes," I said on an exhale.

  "I like them, but I love what's underneath more." With an impatient growl, he yanked them down my legs.

  The soft flick of his tongue against my swollen flesh jolted me upright, but he merely pushed me back down with a steady hand on my stomach.

  "Fuck, you taste good," he mumbled as he devoured me whole, taking his time to tease every part of me until I was a writhing and panting mess. I threw an arm over my eyes, shutting out the light and focusing on every worshipful pass of his tongue and the coarse scratch of his stubble on my inner thighs.

  "Look at me, babe," he ordered.

  I opened my eyes and stared into his. The evidence of my arousal glistened on his mouth and chin. His gaze never wavered as he brought me to a delicious peak and pushed me over, the slap of his tongue and my whimpers of pleasure mingling together.

  "Hey, Erica, could you help me with something?" Janice called from outside the door. I bolted upright.

  "Be right out," I yelled.

  "Fuck," Dante said with a groan, tucking himself back into his pants.

  "Sorry. Duty calls."

  After I threw on a fresh pair of underwear and fixed my hair, I walked past Dante who had slouched onto the edge of my bed.

  "You're mine later," he said, grabbing me by the elbow before I could walk out.

  "I can't wait," I said, bestowing a quick kiss. "Are you coming?"

  "I wish," he muttered under his breath.

  "Hey, I need you to call that contact about your old buddy from Stanford."

  I looked up from my computer as Allister stormed into my office. She forced her reading glasses to the top of her head, piercing me with a no-nonsense look. With her blouse half untucked and bare feet (she had abandoned her high heels hours ago), Allie looked harried. But she always did before the Sunday edition.

  "I have it on my list of things to do," I replied. I continued typing, because I had too much shit left to pull together before I had to leave for the night. I was supposed to meet Erica downtown at the mission off Bell Street to help serve dinner to homeless women.

  I had almost fallen out of bed when Erica told me she had signed up to serve meals at one of Seattle's women's missions. It was admirable and I wanted to support her while she figured out her place in the world.

  Nearly every day I had to remind myself that Erica was five years younger than me. Not because she was immature, but because she somehow maintained her innocence. I worried if she saw all the horrors the world contained, she might morph back into the girl I'd caught skulking from the bathroom in Maui.

  I knew she was keeping something from me. She had never revealed the circumstances of her arrival Christmas Eve. And although I had tried to bring it up on several occasions, she'd always shot me down. I didn't push the subject, because she seemed to be settling into life with me so seamlessly. I didn't want to create drama where there wasn't any.

  "I've got to be out of here by six," I said when Allister perched on my desk. She swung her leg back and forth and tapped her finger on the top of my monitor.

  "You have a date with Erica?"

  "If you count feeding the homeless as a date."

  "You're volunteering at a homeless shelter? Together?"

  I stopped typing and leaned back in my chair. "Don't look at me like that."

  "I'm sorry, I'm just shocked. I've never seen you invest time in anything other than work and screwing chicks."

  "You make me sound like a self-absorbed dick."

  She guffawed, a sound that always made me smile. "I take it things are going well with you and Erica?"

  "Things are good." I had no idea why I was fronting with one of my best friends. Things were fucking fantastic. I'd never known a relationship could be like this. Even though we saw each other every day, I didn't feel like a noose was strapped around my neck.

  Most nights we ended up at my house, because the few times we'd stayed at Damian's had been awkward. Damian tried to pretend it didn't bother him, but the man's feelings were about as transparent as a piece of glass. I had no intention of throwing the fact I was sleeping with his sister in his face.

  Thoughts of what Erica and I had done on his kitchen island, with ice, last weekend, had my mind wandering. She needed to find her own place. And soon. If Damian ever caught wind of all the ways we had desecrated his condo, he would kill us both.

  "I'm glad you finally pulled your head out of your ass. If I had to listen to you complain about how she wouldn't answer your calls one more time, I was going to fucking kill myself," Allie said, interrupting my musings.

  "Wow, I appreciate that."

  "What can I say? You're annoying as fuck when you're emotional."

  "Is fuck your favorite swear word?"

  "Fuck, yeah. I can't believe you even have to ask that."

  "I thought so. You say it a lot. Did that bother your husband?" I almost never asked about her dead husband, Greg. But I wondered if not asking was even worse than asking.

  She gazed out the window, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, after Finn was born, Greg used to give me shit all the time. He'd tell me that Finn was going to be the foulest-mouthed kid at preschool. I do my best to curb myself around Finn. But fuck... I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not, just because I have a kid."

  That was what I loved about my boss. No bullshit. Unfiltered and fearless. "I respect that."

  "Well, fuck you if you don't. Seriously, I need you to call your contact about Logan."

  "Why are you so convinced he's trying to hide something?"

  "He was caught with prostitutes and cocaine. I hate that he tries to hide behind his Southern charm and fancy lawyers."

  I stopped typing. Not because Allie was riled up. That happened on an hourly basis. It was the way her cheeks flushed when she talked about my old teammate. She never blushed.

  "You're speculating. His nickname is America's Sweetheart for a reason. Logan was one of the nicest guys on the team. It's possible he has no recollection of what happened that night. Like he says."

  With purse
d lips, she seemed to contemplate this for half a second. "Maybe. But, I don't fucking buy it. He may be America's Sweetheart, but he doesn't fool me."

  "All right, Cagney. I'll look into it."

  "Thank you," she said, hopping up. After a quick peck on the cheek, Allister darted out the door, then swung back in. "Oh, and don't fucking forget the awards ceremony next Saturday."

  "Don't worry. I won't fucking forget. Goodnight boss."

  ***

  I pulled up to my Brownstone building in the Harvard-Belmont Historic District and admired the serene scene. The street was the reason I had picked the complex. Lined by decade-old trees, custom street lamps, and beautiful homes, it was as close to the image I had in my head of where the perfect family would live.

  We climbed out of my car and Erica practically floated across the sidewalk before spinning around with a smile.

  "Thank you for going with me. I know that's not something you would normally do."

  "You're welcome. It was eye-opening."

  And depressing. The women who stayed at the mission weren't just down on their luck. Some were the victims of abuse, addicted to drugs, or mentally ill. I had felt like an intruder and it had hit too close to home. My mom could have easily ended up in a place like that if it hadn't been for my success on the field.

  Erica had handled it like a pro. She was made to work with the downtrodden. She showed empathy when it was due, but wasn't sympathetic to the point of being disingenuous.

  "I spoke with the director, Helen, about some of my plans."

  "Plans?" I asked as we climbed the steps to my top floor unit. Erica always insisted that we take the steps so that she didn't gain any more weight. Any pounds she'd put on over the last few months had filled out her tits and ass in a way that should have been criminal. If it were up to me, we would have taken the elevator every time.

  "Yeah. I told her that I'd like to help out on a more regular basis. Maybe help streamline some of her processes."

  "Sounds fantastic." We arrived on the top landing and I unlocked the door. Erica skipped to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. "What did Helen think?"