Page 3 of Defiant
No, I had no other plan. This was it.
“So why don’t you drop that backpack and we’ll move this getting-to-know-you session to the bed?” Dante suggested.
Was this how he treated every girl he kidnapped? I assumed I wasn’t the only one. Actually sleeping with him would be a mistake—if all went well, it wouldn’t get that far. All I needed was the knife.
If I had to kill him to get away…well, then I guessed I would. There were videos at the high school that would show him blocking my path to the doors, forcing me to go with him. I was certain he had some kind of criminal record—who the hell got head tattoos, anyway? The law would side with me, and if it didn’t, I was sure I could use Ollie as my lawyer if I asked nicely.
Not that I had anything to pay him with, besides the money under my mattress, but whatever. I’d get to it if and when I got to it.
I took a step away from the wall, my chest grazing his as I muttered, “I don’t know…”
Dante reached for the straps, helping to slide them off. My backpack fell to the floor with a thud, and I was about to reach into his jacket to take out the knife when he took a step back, grabbed my wrist, and spun me away from the wall, pinning me to the bed in the next moment.
Wow. He worked fast.
And—I realized as he pressed his midsection down on me—he was already getting hard.
I could feel the knife’s solid steel pressing against me between us, and I knew I couldn’t grab it as we were positioned now. I had to get him to not pin me down as hard, maybe even get on top.
“This is…a little fast, isn’t it?” I breathed out, but he had a retort ready.
“Jaz, if there’s one thing to know about me, it’s that I like it fast,” Dante whispered, his entire body pinning mine down on the bed. His hands moved to hold my neck, one of them squeezing just a bit too hard. “I like it fast, and I like it dirty.”
My mind went places after that, but all thoughts in my head vanished the moment he pressed his hungry lips down on mine.
I’d never kissed a stranger before. Well, I’d kissed Archer, who was pretty much like a stranger since he’d hidden the truth from me the entire time, but that was different. I’d at least spoken to him on multiple occasions before.
Dante? I literally just met the guy, and he was already pressing his boner against me, his mouth ravaging mine as if he couldn’t get enough.
Really. He was. I was not exaggerating there.
The way Dante kissed…it was new. It was hard and fast, urgent and heated, igniting sparks within me even though he was a stranger. My body immediately reacted to his, my lips kissing him back even though I knew I had to remain in my right mind to pull this off.
Problem was, it was damned near impossible to be in my right mind when this guy kissed me like he wanted to pull the breath from my lungs, the power of a thousand suns behind each tug and push of his lips.
With how hard he pushed down on me with every inch of his body, I knew I needed to flip our positions.
When he bit my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from my body—my stupid, stupid body that was clearly not on the same page as my mind—I set my hands on his shoulders and pushed. His shoulders were the only thing I could get ahold of, but it worked.
I rolled Dante onto his back, straddling him. He seemed surprised at my sudden display of dominance, his eyes heavy-lidded as he watched me. “Well,” he murmured, looking a lot less dangerous as he stared up at me with his head resting on a fluffy white pillow, “look at you, taking charge. All right, I’ll let you, but only this once.”
My, my. My lucky freaking day.
I figured I couldn’t go straight for his stomach, feeling like it would be too obvious, so I ground my hips along him, causing the hardness under me to twitch and the man himself to groan. His leather jacket hung open, a dark shirt underneath. He really was fit under that leather, wasn’t he?
The perfect body to use and discard…
But I’d learned my lesson the last time. No more hookups. Not for a while, at least. When things calmed down…maybe.
I leaned down, moving my lips along his jaw, kissing away. Eventually his hands found my sides, though they took a while to get there—but when they did, they dug in, so hard I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow. Better bruises than being the next face on the news, though.
Once I was sure his hands were firm on my sides, my mouth moved to his. I kissed him as hard as I could, nibbling on his lower lip, putting a fire behind the lip lock I’d never known before. He urgently kissed me before? Well, now I kissed him like my life depended on it.
And it kind of did.
As I kissed him hard, I ground again on his dick, over and over, basically dry-humping him. Had to distract him somehow, right? My hands moved down, roaming over his solid chest, the fabric of his t-shirt softer than I would’ve guessed.
My heart skipped a beat, because I was really doing this, my hand nearing the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Excitement and apprehension mixed inside me; I was both nervous and anxious to get out of here, to get back to Midpark.
