Page 71 of Wicked Takeover
Not that it would have made things better. She had no right to judge, period. Dante never had when it came to her. She was so fucking imperfect, it was laughable. Yet he’d done nothing except be her friend and lover. He’d continually tried to help. She couldn’t believe he’d forgiven her careless words. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t known. She was wrong to have placed her own insecurities on him.
“Hey.” He eased back and stared. “What’s this?” He touched her damp cheek.
She hadn’t meant to cry and suddenly couldn’t seem to stop.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” He brushed her tears away. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“But you’re crying. Don’t, please. Everything’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I was such a bitch to you.”
“You were having a bad day.”
She blubbered another apology and pressed her face to his throat, kissing it and his cheek. His bristly skin was so damn masculine… He was such a good, decent man… She lost control and yanked up his tee.
“Lauren?”
The damn shirt wouldn’t go past his shoulders and over his head.
“Hey. Slow down, baby.”
She loved that endearment but couldn’t stop. She’d been without him for too many days and needed his strength and warmth. Frustrated by his tee, she unbuttoned his jeans and yanked down the fly.
Dante pulled off his shirt, pitched it, and grabbed her hands. “I’ll get it.”
She’d hooked her thumbs beneath the waistbands of his jeans and stretchy boxers. “No. You’re not moving fast enough.”
“I will if you let go. Let me do this.” He chuckled. “You might hurt me.”
She released him and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. It’s no problem, all right?” He shoved off his clothes and kicked them aside.
Lauren flew into his arms.
Dante staggered back.
She followed and pushed her fingers through his hair, using it to keep him to her. She captured his mouth and plunged her tongue inside.
He froze, then cupped her ass and pulled her into his gargantuan erection. He was fucking hard, freaking silky, and incredibly hot.
They went wild, battling to control the kiss.
Dante won and pushed her tongue aside. He angled his head for greater penetration.
Lauren surrendered eagerly. She stroked his broad back, down his torso to his ass, the furrow between his cheeks.
He pushed to his toes. She shot up with him. Together, they sank to their heels and made sounds that were sloppy, joyous, and hard-core.
Dante broke free first and pointed at her. “Don’t move.” He edged back. “I mean it.”
Panting, Lauren padded closer, ready for a fucking lot more.
He grinned, then sobered. “Stay.” He dug in his jeans pocket and pulled out a condom.
She waved her hands. “Not yet.”
