Page 45 of Just This Once

“What are you doing in here? Besides annoying me?” I ask, though there is no actual ire in my voice. Only breathless anticipation.

“I came in for a drink but then heard some real interesting stuff happening in here. Seems like a really good workout. What else can you pick up with your lady bits? Grapes? Cherries?”

I attempt to wiggle away from him, but it only settles us more in place, his trim hips fitting snugly between mine. His stomach against mine. Our chests so close that every one of my inhales sends chills across my skin at the way my hard nipples rub against him. It’s torture, even through the multiple layers of fabric. They’re so sensitive and needy. Ever since the night he ordered me to feed them to him.

I won’t ever forget that.

And from the way Dante stares down at me with heat in his eyes and filthy words I know are gathered on the tip of his tongue, I don’t think he will either.

“I like you like this,” he murmurs, and my body responds of its own accord. My thighs bracketing his hips, back bowing to bring us even closer together. “All flushed and sweaty.”

His grip tightens, thumbs digging into my wrists, and I remember that too. Those slight reminders of who is actually in charge, and the visceral memories are too much. The scent of his skin then and having him so close to me now. The feel of his tongue on me with his mouth so close to me now. The full and throbbing echo of his cock inside me taunts me with his hardening length resting against the cleft of my sex now.

It’s all too much.

I can’t breathe.

“Please,” I gasp, “the kids are right outside.”

The slow and wicked twist of his lips sends a shiver down my spine. “Then you better be quiet.”

I buck my hips, trying to dislodge him, but he’s too heavy, too strong. “Dante, I mean it. We can’t do this here, not now.”

He leans down, his breath hot on my ear. “You say that, but your body is telling me something different, duchess. I can feel how much you want this.”

I can’t deny it. My body is a traitor, my nipples hard, my core pulsating with need. An ache that only he can satisfy.

But I can’t give in. I shake my head. “We can’t do this here.”

He pulls back the tiniest bit, enough to allow me a deep breath that only fills my lungs with his now-familiar scent of freshly cut wood and clean cotton. “But youdowant to do this.”

I do. I really fucking do, but I push against his chest, my voice firm. “No.”

He searches my face, his expression softening. Then, with a sigh, he rolls off me. I sit up, adjusting my clothes, trying to regain my composure. But it’s no use. The idea is in my head. My nipples are hard points through my sports bra and T-shirt. Heart racing.

“We can’t,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes to slits, hoping he’ll let it go. Leave me and my spinning plates be.

But of course, he doesn’t. He huffs a rough sound and rakes his hand through his hair before pointing at me. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re fooling me. You’re not. You certainly aren’t fooling yourself either.” He waves his hand up and down the length of me like it’s proof enough.

It is, and I hate him for pointing it out. Even more for continuing to tell the truth.

“You want to be thrown around. I know you do. I know you want me to fold you up like a pretzel and fuck your pussy untilyou can’t breathe. I know, so don’t look at me like it doesn’t turn you on when I talk like this. You forget I’ve already done it. Fucked you so good, you felt it the next day.”

With my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, I am unable to reply. He simply nods to himself then stands, silently holding his hands out to me, helping me up as well. He tucks the loose strands of hair that fell out of my ponytail back behind my ears then steps back. “I’m ready.” His searing gaze marks my skin, leaves a scorching trail down my throat, over my chest, down my stomach, to settle between my thighs before it glazes over. I don’t know what he’s imagining, but I can guess. Then his eyes are back up on mine, honest and open, so I can see how much he wants me. Even without his promise. “I’m ready when you are.”

Chapter 15

Dante

I’m knee-deep in drywall at The Nest when Taryn’s voice slices through the hum of construction work around me. She’s on the phone, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. My hackles rise. Because I know the differences in her voice, when she’s giving shit to someone and when she’s ready to actually murder them.

And I don’t have the money for bail in my account right now.

“No, that’s not good enough. You do this all the time, and it needs to stop. I—” She stops abruptly to listen for a few seconds and then explodes again. “You really think they give a shit about that? Because they don’t. This is supposed to be your time with them, that youfoughtme for, and now you’re canceling.Again.”

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