Crossing the Line Page 18
Even with Leeza. He’d been too hard on her, he recognized now. Had expected too much. That’s why she hadn’t come to him when she was in trouble. She was afraid of disappointing him. He vowed never to make Elle feel that way. He wanted her to always feel as if she could come to him and he wouldn’t judge her.
Firmly she stroked his forearm with her thumb and index finger, tickling him so lightly his arm hairs lifted. She pressed her naked body against his until he could feel her everywhere. Then she lowered her head and licked his skin. With each bold stroke of her tongue, she dared him to resist her, challenging him to deny what they both wanted so desperately. Her lips taunted, punishing him for provoking her.
Even through the haze of their mind-soaking arousal, there was no denying that she pushed him to levels he’d never before experienced. Intensity rose off her like heat off the desert sand.
His biceps quivered beneath her fingertips. His hips pressed into her as if he would never let her up off his bed.
Desire ignited and surged through his shaft, snatching him up in a swell of passion.
She kept kissing his chest, his collarbone, his nipples, doing these absolutely incredible things with her tongue.
His erection ached, heavy and taut. He was eager to feel the caress of her fingers down there. Hungry to construct memories he would never forget. He wanted to remember this night forever. The first time he’d fallen in love. He intended it to be the last.
For better or for worse, he was going to make Elle Kingston his.
“Wait,” he said and wriggled away from her. “Before we go any further we need to talk.”
“Dante, you’re torturing me.”
“I want you, too, but I’ve kept myself closed off for so long. I want you to know me. The real me. No undercover lies. No walls between us.”
She sat up against the headboard then, dragging the sheet up to cover her breasts. There was no mistaking the happy little smile curling her lips. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
But even though he was sure, this was difficult. Life had taught him to be guarded. His mother’s abandonment, his father’s abuse, Leeza’s death—all stones in the wall of his emotional fortress. He was going to have to knock it all down. The thought left him feeling vulnerable and weak-kneed.
“I’m listening,” she encouraged.
Dante hesitated. Emotional intimacy took courage. Was he ready? What if she swallowed him up? What if he forgot who he was?
Stall tactics. You’re just scared.
He took a deep breath and began, “I never had a family like yours, Elle. I don’t have any idea how to love.”
“Yes, you do,” she cooed and traced a finger over his heart. “It’s innate inside you. Inside here. The hard part is letting it out. I promise not to hurt you, Dante. You truly can trust me.”
His sinuses ached and he felt himself blinking. He wasn’t crying. He was a tough guy, and tough guys didn’t cry. But deep down inside of him was that kid who’d been left to fend for himself, to find his own way in the world. He took a deep breath and very slowly began to tell her everything. About his parents, about Leeza, about the reason he’d joined the FBI.
She listened without commenting, occasionally clicking her tongue in sympathy, or smiling sadly or quietly stoking his cheek with her index finger. The woman made him feel safe in a way he had never felt. It was scary, but it was wonderful, too.
When he finished, it seemed as if a giant boulder had been rolled off his chest. The wall was down and Elle had walked right in.
“Thank you,” she said, “for telling me all that. And from now on, it’s a brand-new start.” Then she leaned over and playfully kissed the tip of his nose before moving down to his mouth.
While her mouth was kissing, her fingers were busy, as well, tracing and stroking and kneading. Dante dissolved into a steamy puddle of desperate lust, while the most masculine part of his anatomy hardened to granite under her touch.
She straddled him, planting a knee on either side of his waist. The head of his penis jutted firmly against her bottom.
Dante could not have prevented his hips from arching upward if Briggins had burst into the room to announce that they had Gambezi in custody.
While she planted more erotic love bites along his neck, she ground her pelvis against his waist in undulating movements that let him know exactly how much she wanted him. Dante was overwhelmed.
She kept up the steady circle, rubbing her sex over his pelvis, teasing his throbbing erection but not letting him in just yet. He let her play. Enjoyed the game. Before, he would not have been able to lie like this and let her take control. He would have had to be in charge. But he knew now if their relationship was going to work, the power had to be shared. And he wanted this to work more than he wanted to breathe. So he let her have her fun, and in turn, his own arousal escalated, becoming more than he ever imagined it could be.
Dante splayed a hand to her chest, felt the wild pounding of her restless heart.
She was as hungry for him as he was for her, and the love in her eyes was burning bright.
For him.
I’m responsible for this, he thought in amazement. She wants me. She’s in love with me.
He couldn’t get over how gorgeous she looked—sparkling blue eyes, perky breasts, beautiful red hair tumbling about her shoulders, the faintest dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose—or how soft she felt. This was love of the most delicious kind. With Elle, he felt as if he could at last lay down his arms and be who he was always meant to be.
Her eyes were open wide and she was staring at him as if he was the most incredible thing she had ever seen. The look sent a fresh surge of blood throbbing through his shaft. He felt the hot, rapid rise of it.
“Dante,” she whispered. “Oh, Dante. I love how hard you are for me.”
“No Rapture needed,” he said lightly.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “This is total rapture.”
“All my life, I’ve tried to be strong. I always fell far too short. But then you came along and I stopped trying to take control of everything, and now, when I look into your eyes and see the way that you see me, I feel in control of my life at last.”
“Dante,” she whispered. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
The urgent thrust of their passion had slipped a bit, but in its place came a softer, easier kind of desire. He still craved her with an undeniable need, but there was something much deeper here.
He pulled her down and kissed her again, swallowing the giddy giggle in her throat. He tasted her joy on his tongue.
They moved in perfect union, their bodies pressed close together, smoothly, in tandem.
A heated calm seeped through his body as he experienced a blissful sense of homecoming. A wondrous peace unlike anything he’d ever known. He understood the mystery of creation, recognized the cosmic connection between them. They were one soul, one entity. Her eyes latched onto his and he could not look away. Did not want to look away.
They climaxed together like that, locked in each other’s embrace.
Elle collapsed against his chest, their bodies slick with the aftersheen of extraordinary lovemaking. Dante wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, inhaled the sweet, honest scent of her, pressed his palms to the back of her head and cradled her tightly.
He’d never felt as vulnerable as he did in this moment and yet, he’d never felt more invincible.
This wasn’t mere lust he felt, it wasn’t just love—they were bonded for life. They were connected on an eternal level that mistakes and heartaches could not destroy. They were two halves of a single beating heart.
Epilogue
MOST OF THE STAFF at Confidential Rejuvenations thought the danger was over once Mark Lawson’s illegal drug operation had been destroyed. Most of them foolishly thought they were safe. Most of them never guessed that, inside the confi
nes of those peaceful vine-covered walls, one of their own was methodically plotting to systemically destroy the place they loved. The incident had been nothing more than a delightfully unexpected bonus. The brutal murder of one of the owners had thrown the place into turmoil.
Nicely done, Lawson. The staff will be totally unprepared for what’s coming next.
So far the attacks had been minor. A leak to the tabloid paparazzi, a small kitchen fire, a few items stolen, a transformer knocked out, a generator tampered with, but that was just the beginning. Things were about to get hot.
Strap yourself in, folks. From here on out, the ride was going to get very bumpy indeed.
For there was no sweeter dish than revenge. No satisfaction so great as getting even with those who’d lied and deceived and hidden the truth. No obsession as compelling as payback.
The arrogant, know-it-all staff had to be punished. Every last one of them.
And first on the list—Dr. Vanessa Rodriquez.
The bitch.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1778-6
CROSSING THE LINE
Copyright © 2008 by Lori Vanzura.
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