Relentless: A Bad Boy Romance (Bertoli Crime Family #1) (26 page)

"I'm not a very good man," Dane said, and in that moment, I saw something even more appealing than his dark handsomeness. I saw introspection, and yes, a bit of a haunted soul.

I'll admit, I'm a lucky girl when it came to the looks department. A lot of it came from Mom, who I wish I had gotten to know better before she died. In looking at the old pictures of her, though, her high school and college graduation photos that Daddy still kept in the family room of the house, I looked a lot like her once you account for the change in hairstyles and fashion. My hair was a shade darker though, probably because of Daddy's influence, although I'd gotten a bit of his height too. While I'm no starter for the basketball team, Mom was so short that she was nearly a gymnast.

So with my looks, even as intimidating as Daddy is, I'd had guys compliment me. The biggest problem most of them had was that they were insecure and tried to hide it by being cocky as all get out. I'd had guys try to strut past me with their chests puffed out or try to show off their clothes or their cars like peacocks at the zoo. One look in their eyes, however, told me that they were insecure little boys trying to mask imperfection behind a cocky strut of perfection.

Dane wasn't like that at all. He was up front with his flaws, and in his eyes I saw that he was, despite his protests, more of a man than anyone I'd ever met at Georgia Tech. When we got back to his place, though, I was floored. Sure, it was a studio, but the Mayfair Tower was one of those types of places that a guy around my age would be bragging about. It was furnished tastefully, though it looked like he'd recently done a major change in decor—something about the way the furniture was arranged in the living area and the way the couch didn't quite jive with the impression I got of Dane on the way from the park, I think. It was like there was the real Dane, and one that maybe he'd recently left behind or something.

Most of it was the contrast between his belongings. For example, the couch that he used to separate the living room area from the bed area of the studio was real leather, and while I didn't know the designer, it looked like one of those sofas that got used in photo spreads for magazines and had price tags in the thousands of dollars. On the other hand, Dane's jeans were off the rack Old Navy, and his boots I couldn't even identify. I wondered if perhaps Dane had fallen on some hard times, or if maybe he'd come into a windfall, and that was why he hadn't bragged about his living accommodations. He led me into the bathroom, and it didn't really matter. I focused instead on the task at hand, cleaning his cheek.

"All right, off with your hood," I told him as I looked at the antiseptic spray bottle. It had a lot of hype text on it, but the important part was the 99.9% printed on the side. If something had gotten into Dane's cut that this thing couldn't kill, I would be surprised.

I wasn't really paying attention as I took his shirt and tossed it into the laundry room, but when I turned around, I couldn't help but shudder at the flush of heat that ran through me at seeing his torso. The tan that highlighted his firm muscles wasn't a frat boy tan or the tan of a guy who laid out in the sun, but the tan of a man who spent plenty of time outdoors doing labor. His muscles were the real thing, not some gym rack set built with curls and pump sets, but steely cords that knew how to do real work.

And of course, there were his tattoos. I've always had a secret attraction to good body ink, though I didn't have any myself. Daddy would have had a heart attack if I did, even a little rose or butterfly on an ankle. But Dane's body was beautiful, with complex, intertwining designs that covered most of his chest and around to his shoulders, going nearly halfway down his left forearm. Whoever had done the work was talented, because even though I could see that there were different pieces from different times in his life, they all wove together in a tapestry that flowed and looked harmoniously joined, like a visual representation of his life so far.

It was the tattoos and the impressive definition of his upper body that distracted me when I triggered the spray bottle. In hindsight, I should’ve sprayed the gauze pad in the first aid kit and then wiped his cut, but I wasn't thinking all that clearly. I'd meant to push the plunger slowly, giving just a little squirt of liquid onto his cheek. Instead, I pushed too hard, sending a mist of the alcohol-based cleaner right into his eye. He jerked his head back, hissing in pain. "Ow, shit!" he said as he turned around. "Fuck!"

"I . . . I’m sorry!" I replied, horrified. Here he was, being a total gentleman, and I'd nearly blinded him. I felt like crying. "God, I'm so sorry!"

He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, his face turning red as the first tears of pain trickled out of his eyes and started to make their way down his face. Still, he maintained his composure and there wasn't a hint of anger in his words. "No . . . it's okay. You didn't know, and I should’ve closed my eye."

"Hold still. Keep your eyes closed."

Grabbing a washcloth from the towel bar next to the sink, I quickly wet it until it was soaking. "Here," I said, pressing it against his face and taking the opportunity to apologize. "I'm so sorry, Dane. You go and save my life, and I try and repay you by blinding you."

"You didn't mean to, and you don't need to repay me," he replied, a delicious tension in his voice. His hand came up to cover mine, and my body reacted again to his presence. His touch was just as strong as it had been the first time, and my heart sped up. I didn't even realize it as I stepped closer, until I was barely a hand's breadth away from him, close enough to smell him. He smelled like a man, clean sweat and a hint of some sort of aftershave, not the fruity type either, but a real scent. "Just let it flush out a bit and I'll be fine. You just surprised me, that's all."

I tried to keep myself under control, but it was hard with him so close. I wanted to run my hand over his chest to feel the strength in his arms and his body. Even more, I wanted to feel his hands on me, and not just covering mine. I took a deep breath to try and control myself and forced my one-track mind to think of something to say. "Dane?"

"Yes?"

"What are the tattoos for?" I asked, giving in to the temptation and tracing some of his ink. I could see that not all of it was finely done. There were a few that looked a bit amateurish, but still the work of a talented amateur. I wondered where he got them. I saw a symbol I thought I knew, a set of wings coming out from a parachute on his right shoulder. "There are quite a few of them."

" I got most of them in the Army. I think that one is my jump wings. The parachute, right?"

"Yeah. What about the others?" I rasped, unable to resist it any longer. I wanted him. Right or wrong, one-night stand or forever and a day, at that moment, the thing I needed most was his touch, his caress. I wanted to taste his skin and run my tongue along the intertwining lines of his ink. When he opened his eyes and looked down into my eyes, I knew that he wanted it too.

His hands pulled on the backs of my arms, and I wouldn’t have been able to resist even if I wanted to as he brought my lips to his. His mouth was as supple and amazing as I'd been imagining, his lips sending shivers down my spine even before his tongue came out to trace my neck. Groaning in desire, I threw my arms around his neck, heat flooding my body when he pulled me tighter.

"Dane . . .” I whispered, relishing the sound on my lips. He responded by pulling me into him even more, wrapping his arms around my waist and crushing my body against him. Even through the silk of my dress, I could feel the warm heat of his skin with the light dusting of dark hairs on his stomach prickling against my body. I gave in to my desire, pulling myself up higher and lifting my leg to put my left knee on the countertop, letting me kiss him more easily.

Dane's right hand let go of my back to cup my leg, his work-roughened hand sliding from my knee to the hem of my dress before stopping. He was strong, but still almost gentlemanly as his thumb pushed the hemline of my dress up until his hand found the silk of my bikini briefs. He stopped kissing to smile at me in joy. "You're so smooth."

The gleeful, slightly dangerous glint in his eyes made my knees even weaker than they already were, and I nodded, enjoying the seduction game we were playing.

Dane licked his lips, lifting me up by the hand that was cupping my ass and spinning us both around. In an instant, he had me propped up on the countertop, his hands at the hem of my dress, lifting it up. He stopped when the hem bunched up against the marble, stepping back. "Wait."

"What?" I asked, my heart hammering and my chest heaving. My nipples ached inside my dress, and I was sure I was showing through. I could barely contain myself, and now he wanted to stop? Was he having some last second surge of timidity, or was some other reason stopping him? "What's wrong?"

"I . . . It's been a while for me," Dane admitted without a hint of shame. He said it matter-of-factly, as if he were saying the sun is hot, water is wet, or that he was sexy as hell. "I forgot that it's probably better to lift your hem up a bit before you sit down on the dress."

I laughed as I realized what he was talking about, even more enchanted and turned on by his honesty. "Well then," I said, sliding off the counter and taking the hem of my dress in hand, “there we go.”

The look in Dane's eyes and the little twist of his lips set me on fire even more. The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding, but it still added a rakish sexiness to his appearance, like he was carrying his battle scars and would keep them as a reminder of what he'd done to gain my attention. I was kind of glad I'd worn one of my sexier sets of lingerie that night, mostly because it fit well under my dress, but the nearly sheer bra cups and silk panties certainly had the right effect on Dane. Looking down, my throat went slightly dry looking at the bulge in his jeans. He wasn't wearing any sort of overly tight skinny jeans either. He had to be big. Blinking, I looked up at Dane and bit my lip. "Better?"

"Much," he said, his voice as hoarse as mine felt. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me into a warm and powerful embrace again, this time lifting me in his arms and carrying me to the bed in the back of the loft room. The bed was a queen size, but that was more than big enough for the two of us as we tumbled to the mattress.

His lips found mine once more, this time his tongue wrapping around mine as he pulled me on top of him, my legs automatically parting to each side of him. I gasped when my panties came into contact with the bulge in his jeans, which already felt hot and delicious. "Oh, God . . .”

Dane pulled back to look in my face, worried for an instant. It touched me that such a powerful man could be both demanding and respectful at the same time. He studied me for a second before grinning, reading my expression. "It's been a while for you too?"

I nodded, suddenly shy. "Sorry."

He shook his head, his hand coursing up and down my backbone. "Abs, there’s no need to feel ashamed of that. I'm honored, actually."

Nobody had called me Abs before, not even my friends, and to hear the word on his lips sent ripples through me. I enjoyed the name and mouthed it silently as he kissed my throat and along my pulse line. Abs. It would be my special name from Dane, and one nobody else would ever use.

He stopped his hands on my bra strap, and without too much fumbling undid the clasp at the back. Bringing his hands around to my sides, he slid my bra off until the only thing keeping it on was that it was sandwiched between us. Grinning, he pushed me back and let it fall off, where I tossed it off the side of the bed. My breasts hung in front of him while I ground over the bulge in his jeans, and by the look in his eyes, I'd never felt more beautiful in my entire life.

Hot sparks shot through me when he cupped my breast and ran his thumbs over my nipple. I couldn't resist, and I started riding his bulge in my panties, the friction mixing with the electricity in my breasts to render me senseless. The whole time, his eyes bored into mine, but this time the gray wasn't brooding or dark, but instead wise and comforting. They were eyes that captured my attention, along with the growing confident smile on his face. It may have been a long time for him, but like riding a bicycle, he quickly remembered exactly what he was doing.

When Dane pulled me down to him, replacing his hands with his mouth on my nipple, I whimpered. It felt so good. His tongue found all the little spots that left me mewling and gasping. My hips sped up, and I nearly cried out in frustration when he rolled me off him and turned both of us onto our sides. "Why'd you stop?" I whined, unable to help myself. "I was nearly there."

"And so was I," he said with a little laugh. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

It was something in the way he said it that opened up more than my libido and cracked through the defenses around my heart that every girl builds up. It was like he was saying not just that he'd take care of me sexually that night, but that somehow, without even knowing if I'd see him the next morning, he'd take care of me the rest of my life. All I could do was nod as he laid me on the bed and propped himself up on his left elbow.

"Now here’s something I enjoy," he said, bringing his right hand down to the damp heat between my legs. His fingers were strong and confident as he rubbed me, my eyes fluttering closed because it felt so good.

I forced my eyes open to look into his, letting them drive a wedge into my mind as his fingers stroked magically. The silk of my panties aided his touch, adding just the right texture to his caress. When he brought a single finger up and across my clit, I cried out, unable to help it. My orgasm rolled through me, sorely missed. It’d been too long, even by my own hand, and never had anyone made me feel so good.

"This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life," he whispered softly as I clenched, my mouth open and my eyes staring into his. "I don't ever want it to end."

Neither did I. I'd never felt anything like it as the waves and warm pleasure rolled through me, my body fluttering under his fingers. I could have spent the rest of my life frozen in that moment. Still, the moment did eventually end, leaving me trembling and sweating as I collapsed back onto the bed. "That . . . that was amazing. Tell me you’re not done.”