WickedTakeover (6 page)

She whispered something he didn’t catch. The faraway look on
her face reminded him of how he’d been when he lost his virginity. Tonight was
going to be light-years better. Now he knew how to rock and roll. He picked up
his pace. Air hissed through Lauren’s teeth. Not good enough. Dante wanted
everything from her. He leaned over and rubbed her clit. She babbled something
then tightened her sheath around his shaft.

The room spun. Dante fought his pressing need, determined to
see to hers. He tensed his muscles until they burned. Rivulets of sweat ran
down his torso and back. He did math equations in his head so her satiny warmth
wouldn’t overwhelm him.

Lauren curled her fingers into fists. Panting hard, she
tightened her cunt around his cock again, this time squeezing him in rhythm to
his thrusts.

On a strangled gasp, Dante surrendered, unable to resist any
longer. He pounded into her as fast as he could and rubbed her clit as quickly,
driven to give her a ride she’d never get from another man.

For the first time in Lauren’s life, reality was better than
any fantasy she might have dreamed up. Dante filled her completely, his beefy
cock invading her depths, her strength no match for his. Despite how hard
Lauren squeezed her inner muscles around his shaft, he easily drove inside of
her, the steady tapping of their bodies and their labored breaths the most
beautiful music she’d ever heard.

God help her, she didn’t want to come. Not yet. Maybe not
ever. That way they’d keep having fun with Dante giving her a sense of
belonging to someone, not being alone any longer or scared. Bills wouldn’t
exist. Rejection would be in the past. She could welcome the future rather than
dreading it and be young as she hadn’t been since childhood when life had gotten
so hard.

Those years seemed to belong to another life, a sad one
gladly forgotten as too many sensations bombarded Lauren, all of them wanton
and wild. Each of Dante’s strokes on her clit increased the tension between her
legs. Her body ached for relief, her climax coming, building.

Soaring.

Lauren wailed her release, not caring how wild she acted,
relishing the freedom it gave her.

Too quickly the towering sensations passed, yielding to
sweet warmth and feelings she couldn’t resist. Her cunt constricted
rhythmically with her orgasm. She locked her knees but her legs still wavered.
Her head and arms seemed to weigh a ton.

Despite his growl and heavy breathing, Dante kept thrusting
and stroking her clit.

Oh hell no. Her poor little nub couldn’t stand the added
stimulation. Lauren grabbed his wrist. Dante twisted it loose and swatted her
hand away. She squirmed but couldn’t flee. His body trapped hers.

She moaned, “Stop rubbing my clit. I can’t take it.”

He blew out more air. “I want you to come again.”

“I can’t.”

“Bull.” He stroked, rubbed, teased.

She pressed her fingers into the padded chair and gritted
her teeth. Dante pumped like a freaking machine, his cock thickening inside of
her. It was nearly more than Lauren could take and everything she wanted.

Her next climax whispered close, swirled away momentarily
then returned with so much force, it almost knocked her down. Her mouth hung
open on a low, throaty groan. Above her, Dante made a strangled sound, managed
one final thrust then roared, his deep baritone booming through the room.

They panted like dogs. The noise blocked some of the
haunting music that played, the singer’s Spanish words sounding mournful.
Lauren had never felt as pooped or as happy, so deliciously sated. Her cunt
quivered around Dante’s cock, proving what he’d done to her. The room smelled
of their mingled fragrances and sex, the best scent of all.

He bent down and cradled her breasts. “You okay?”

His breath skimmed her back, warming it further. She wiggled
her body into his. “Oh yeah. You?”

“Hmm.” He suckled her shoulder until a yawn interrupted him.
Finished, he rubbed his face against her back and sighed, “Let’s get
comfortable.”

Lauren smiled. “I already am. Go ahead and lean on me. Fall
asleep.”
Just don’t pull out.
She didn’t want to lose their closeness.

“Are you kidding?” he asked. “I’ll crush you.”

“No way. I’m sturdy.”

“Sure.” On another yawn, he pulled out of her and stumbled
back.

“Careful,” she warned, reaching for him.

“I’m okay.” He righted himself and pulled off the rubber,
dropping it in the wastebasket.

His hair looked awesome, tangled from their play. His body
was magnificent, muscular and lean, so toned Lauren could count his abs. Other
than his amazing side tat of a bird in flight, his pecs, torso and narrow hips
were nothing but sleek, bronze skin. No tan marks from trunks or board shorts.
Lauren wondered where he was able to swim in the nude. He was obviously an
athletic man in perfect condition. Unbelievably gorgeous.

Lauren sagged against the chair weakened even more by his
male beauty. Beneath his hard belly, a stream of dark hair trickled to the
thick thatch of curls on his groin. Prominent veins snaked up his cock that was
still semi-hard, the crown a plump mouthful, its color ruddy. Short, dark hairs
dusted his pendulous balls, thighs and calves. His legs were long and sinewy.
Hell, even his large feet were great-looking.

He padded back to the chair, climbed on and sagged down.
Smiling, Lauren ran her fingertips up his thigh. His leg trembled. He pulled it
away and reached for her. “Get up here.”

She didn’t. Couldn’t. Before he’d climbed on the chair, it
had looked fairly big. Now, it seemed unbelievably narrow. “There’s not room
enough for both of us.”

“Sure there is.” He turned to face her then scooted back
until his ass and shoulder hit the wall. Patting the padded top, he ordered,
“Hop on.”

Lauren prayed the thing wouldn’t collapse with her added
weight. As gracefully as possible, she settled next to Dante, facing him. Close
enough for his body heat to warm her, his breath to glance over her lips. With
a blissful look in his eyes, he smiled then kissed her. Gently, this time.
Tender and searching.

Her defenses crumbled, leaving her soul naked and yearning.
She opened up to him, giving her all, powerless against what was happening,
which was so damn reckless for her heart. Lauren knew she should have stopped
wanting him, but couldn’t.

They kissed for a long time that seemed far too short to
her. Dante brushed his lips over her throat then scooted down and licked her
areola. She sighed at his tongue’s wet heat. He drew her nipple into his mouth
and suckled lightly. To her it seemed he wasn’t trying to arouse, but to
comfort them both.

Her lids grew heavy. She stifled a yawn. Dante grunted and
sighed, the noises he made sounding content.

Time seemed to stop then drift. Lauren wasn’t aware they’d
fallen asleep until beating drums and the shriek of trumpets awakened her, the
music sounding way too peppy and loud. Dante’s upper lip fluttered with his
soft snore, his breath grazing her breast. Smiling, Lauren combed his hair with
her fingers.

He stirred then glanced up, frowning, she guessed, at the
intrusive music.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” she pleaded, “or I might land
on the floor.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him,
her cunt to his cock. With his forehead to hers, he whispered, “Not gonna
happen. I have you.”

For now. What about tomorrow and all the days beyond that?

Crap. Lauren didn’t want to think about it or what they’d
done. During their passion, everything had seemed right, downright necessary.
Now an attack of regret threatened. Feeling silly and shy, she could only
manage a faint smile.

Dante didn’t seem to notice her change in mood. He yawned
lustily then snuggled close. “We gotta go.”

Her heart fell, which was ridiculous. Of course, they had to
go. They couldn’t stay here for the rest of their lives, even if she wanted
that. Pushing back her disappointment and longing, she mumbled, “Yeah, it’s
late. We both should go home and get some real sleep.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” He pushed to his elbow and
eased his arm from her waist. “Can you turn around and get off this thing
without falling?”

Lauren could only hope. If she fell on her ass, she’d feel
like a complete idiot. “Yeah, I guess.” She frowned.

“What?” he asked.

She was about to shake her head and pretend nothing was
bothering her but couldn’t. For some reason, Lauren wanted to be straight with
Dante. “You said you weren’t talking about you and me going to our respective
homes for some real sleep. What did you mean?”

“Having dinner.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Now? It’s so late.”

“It’s probably not even eleven.” He grinned. “I know I have
a lot of stamina but even I can’t go on for hours.”

Lauren laughed.

He murmured, “I know you haven’t been eating.”

She sobered quickly, her face hot with embarrassment. “Of
course I have. You’ve seen me eat here every day.”

“Not the pizza I’ve offered or the takeout I’ve had Jasmina
get.”

“That’s for you guys.”

“It’s for the crew,” he corrected. “That means you too.” He
ran his finger down her throat to her boob. Lauren shivered at his wonderful
touch. He spoke more softly than before, “You bring a peanut butter and jelly
sandwich for lunch every day because it’s my guess that’s all you can afford.”

She lied, “I like the taste.”

“You’ll like what I have in mind better. No arguments.” With
more skill and grace than she possessed, Dante helped her from the table then
jumped off and grabbed his stretchy boxers.

She stared at his naked ass, wanting to run her tongue over
his hard, tight muscles.

He looked over and cocked one eyebrow. “You being bad?”

Impossibly so. “You gonna spank me again if I am?”

“Nope. No more spanking, no more anything if you don’t get
dressed.”

Lauren pushed out her bottom lip and mumbled, “Prick.”

He grinned. “You have no idea.”

She had some. Lauren’s skin tingled with her memories of him
inside of her. She dressed quickly.

Outside, he locked the front door of the parlor and took her
hand as though they’d been dating for years. Not that they ever would. Once she
found a job or sold this place, it was doubtful they’d still see each other.
Not wanting to think about that now, she tightened her fingers around his.
Dante squeezed her hand in return and breezed past her car. It was the only
vehicle in front of Wicked Brand. “Where did you park?”

“Didn’t. I live nearby and can walk.”

Despite the hour, tourists strolled down the streets,
restaurants still hummed. Many patrons ate outside. The clack of utensils
against plates, conversation, laughter and a riot of music filled the
sidewalks. The sky was surprisingly clear with a zillion stars, too many for
Lauren to wish on, though she tried, hoping for the impossible. That these
moments would never end. A gentle breeze cooled the sticky night, bringing with
it the flowers’ sweet perfume and the mouthwatering scents of Mexican, Thai,
Jamaican and other ethnic cuisines.

Her stomach rumbled.

Dante glanced over.

In the soft glow of the antique streetlamps, he looked like
a fallen angel, wickedly handsome, virile as all hell.

“You’re hungry,” he said, his tone leaving no room for
argument. “You like meat?”

She regarded his fly, the beautiful bulge behind it. “Don’t
know. You never gave me a chance to eat you.”

He laughed. “Meat, meat. As in food.”

Lauren noticed that he hadn’t offered to let her pleasure
him orally. Not out here, of course, but later, back at the parlor. She sensed
they wouldn’t be returning there for some carnal dessert. In spite of her
disappointment, she kept up a cheery front. “I’ve been known to enjoy it.”

“Good.” He squeezed her fingers and picked up his pace,
leading her past colorful storefronts painted in bright primary colors, their
windows and doors decorated with tiny white Christmas lights. Even the trunks
of the palm trees boasted the sparkling decorations, which added a festive air.

Dante turned the corner. A sudden gust of wind brought the
amazing scents of grilled beef, corn, garlic and spices that conjured up images
of island life, beaches with sand so white it resembled powdered sugar, fronds
dancing in the persistent breeze, the tang of the ocean, the scent of sunbaked
skin and sex.

Two buildings down, he finally stopped. The sign over the
front door read Castillo’s Cuban Cuisine. A dining area was set up outside, its
white linen tablecloths and bright-red awning fluttering in the breeze. Most of
the couples here tonight were close in age to her and Dante. From the sound
system, a soprano cried out her song while a piano played in the background.
The young waiter stationed at the door grinned at Dante. He’d already let go of
Lauren’s hand and grasped the guy’s instead. They hugged and patted each other
on the back.

Clearly, they had to be good friends even though several
years separated them. She wondered if Dante had once taught school, maybe gym
given his superb physical condition and this guy had been one of his students.

“Ricardo,” Dante said then gestured to her. “Lauren.”

“Welcome to Castillo’s,” Ricardo said, his attention zipping
up and down her as he shook her hand.

“Lauren’s my boss,” Dante added. “She owns Wicked Brand and
everything in it, including me.”

“He’s kidding,” she said to Ricardo and shot Dante a look.

He winked.

Ricardo wiggled his heavy eyebrows and led them to a table
close to where the others sat.

“Uh-uh,” Dante said. “That one over there.” He gestured to
the last one in the group, decidedly private, downright romantic.

God, she was going to die when this ended, spending the rest
of her life wanting it back.

Dante behaved like a guy who’d done this thousands of times
with countless other women. He helped Lauren with her chair then sank into his
own and spoke Spanish to Ricardo. The young man had already pulled out a small
notepad and wrote quickly. Stopping finally, he said something in Spanish.

“Don’t know,” Dante answered then turned to her. “You like
beer? Rum? Wine?”

“I’m driving. I’ll stick with water.”

“One of your designer kinds,” Dante told Ricardo. “I’ll have
a Skol.”

“You got it. Back in a few minutes.”

When they were alone, Lauren asked, “Can you afford this?”

Dante smiled. “Don’t worry. I get a discount.”

“Why? You inked Ricardo and all the other people who work
here?”

“I wish. That’d be good for business.” He smiled broadly,
the corners of his eyes crinkling with it. “Ricardo’s my cousin. My uncle owns
this place.”