Page 12 of Girl Code
“No. You said I could talk while you stitch so let me talk.” He cleared his throat, “You’re not making any sense and I think you know that. You can’t blame yourself for what happened. I’m the one that cheated on Tiffani. I’m the one that kissed you. You didn’t seduce me into it, Mick.”
“It doesn’t matter who started it. We slept together and you were with my best friend. I made you a cheater. I made myself the other woman.”
Mickey focused on what she was doing and tried not to think about all of the twisted feelings she still felt when she thought about that night. She remembered every single detail of that night despite the alcohol she’d had coursing through her system. All that tequila hadn’t made her do something she didn’t want to do. It had only let her accept what she truly wanted.
Dante. She’d wanted Dante. And she’d had him, for one night, but she’d known they couldn’t start anything new by betraying Tiffani. So she’d walked away. She’d walked away and she’d stayed away. Something she had never planned to last forever. She’d just never expected Dante to come back into her life now, like this, either.
She tied off the thread and snapped it, dabbing at the last few trickles of blood before leaning back, “There. All stitched up.”
She sat the needle and leftover thread aside. Carefully, she wiped the blood from her hands on the small hand towel she’d put in her lap. She was very deliberately avoiding looking up when she felt Dante’s rough hand graze her cheek.
A small gasp escaped her at the touch. It felt more intimate than if he’d reached between her legs. Dante gripped her chin, gently, but he forced her face up so that she had to look him in the eyes. When she did, her breath caught at the same swirl of emotions she saw in his dark gaze.
“Mickey…” His voice was soft but it didn’t waver at all when he shook his head, “You were never the other woman. Not a day in our life have you ever been anything but the only woman in the world for me.”
“Dante.” She could barely breathe and his name came out hoarse and unsure.
He cupped her face between his rough palms, “I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old, Mick. I know I messed things up but I’ve spent three years hoping you’d walk back into my life and I never thought it would happen like this but… God, Mick. As soon as I saw you, I knew, I knew that nothing had changed for me. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Mickey fell again, just that fast and easily. She fell into his dark eyes and his rough touch. She fell into the warmth that poured off of him. She felt how deeply he wanted her in that moment and she knew he was telling the truth. She knew that nothing could keep her from falling for him again.
So when he leaned forward and kissed her, she didn’t just let him… she kissed him back.
6
Dante groaned as Mickey leaned into his kiss. He’d only thought he remembered how good it had been between them. He hadn’t. Not if it had been anything like this. It wasn’t just heat or passion. It wasn’t just want, or even need. This was connection on the most basic, chemical level. His body reacting to hers and hers to him. It was raw and natural and absolutely perfect.
He tightened his grip on her, sliding one of his hands back around her neck to pull her closer. He kissed her harder as she responded, trying to push their bodies together. The position they were in didn’t allow for full body contact, not with her kneeling on the floor and him sitting on the edge of the bathtub.
He broke the kiss with a growl and reached down to grab her by the waist. He lifted and Mickey let out another of those sweet, surprised little gasps. His shoulder ached but he couldn’t find it in him to care right now.
“Put your legs around me.” He ordered, voice gruff as he rearranged her enough to put her atop his lap, Mickey automatically straddling him just like he’d wanted.
“Oh God.” She groaned as soon as she settled against him and it was his turn to hiss out a breath.
His cock was filling fast as his blood rushed south. He was hard and putting Mickey on his lap only made him harder. She canted her hips just a little, just enough to slide her sweet heat against him and he swore he could feel her through both layers of their clothes.
In. He wanted in her. Needed it. But before he could completely lose control Mickey wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her breasts against his chest and took his mouth in another scorching kiss.
Her kisses, God they were so sweet.
Mickey kissed the same way she did everything, with one hundred percent of her heart. There were never any half measures with Mickey. It had always been all or nothing and with her, he wanted it all.
Her full lips on his were heaven. The soft velvet of her tongue in his mouth was addicting. He could spend the rest of his life kissing her and he planned to do just that now that he’d found her again.
They kissed for a long time. Long enough that Dante forgot how to breathe without stealing air from Mickey’s lungs. So long that he forgot where they were, forgot the uncomfortable edge of the bathtub beneath him and the tugging pain in his shoulder each time he moved.
“Mick.” His voice was a groan against her ear as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there, causing her to moan. “If you want to stop…”
“No.” She arched against his touch as he nibbled his way down her neck. “Don’t stop touching me, D. Please.”
D. His heart warmed so much he was shocked it didn’t glow right through his chest. She hadn’t called him that since they were kids. A simple nickname, a way to shorten Dante into one syllable, and it shouldn’t have meant a thing but it did. Because she was the only one that had ever called him that and she’d stopped even before that night in college when he’d ruined things between them.
D belonged to her and her alone. D was hers. And so was he.
With her sweet plea to continue, he knew stopping them was no longer an option. Maybe it hadn’t been, even when he’d asked. Because from the first moment he’d kissed her on the street he’d been able to think of nothing else but having her mouth on his again and getting his hands on her warm, smooth skin.
That beautiful black and white polka-dot silk blouse that had already been ruined with his blood, shredded into pieces as he pulled at the buttons, not bothering to undo them. Mickey gasped again when he dragged the material off her shoulders and instantly buried his face between her breasts. Her skin was just as soft as he’d imagined and that spicy cinnamon scent of her he loved so much was still right there, in the small hollow between her perky little breasts.
