“Why aren’t you running away? You’re in a room full of murderers and you just want to know how we got trained?” Jacob asks, flicking a look over his shoulder at Reid and me all cuddled up on the couch. I flick him off and his gaze returns to the screen.
“I have a thing for danger,” Reid retorts, tone sarcastic, but only I know the truth.
Yeah, he has a thing for danger. But when he says that, he meansme.
8
REID
Idon’t know why I pegged Dante as a cuddler. He’s definitely not though. I wake up in a rush like usual, jarred awake by my body’s inability to sleep past six in the morning. When I roll over onto my side, it’s to find Dante starfished out on his stomach, one arm under a pillow, the other reaching out toward me, his fingertip just barely grazing my bicep. His head is angled away from me, his dark hair messy from no doubt tossing and turning all night.
He’s kind of adorable.
Even the thought pisses me off.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sigh quietly to avoid waking Dante up. How did I get myself into this situation? I went from aimless club twink to suddenly intertwined with a group of vigilantes. Now, because I’m mixed up with them, there’s a bullseye on my back. As if sensing my thoughts, Dante turns his head, blinks one sleepy eye at me, then groans loudly.
“What the fuck? It’s still dark out.” Dante grabs my arm and yanks until he can manhandle me into his arms. Isquawk and try to wiggle free, but his arm is a tight band around my body. “You’re not going anywhere. Stop it.”
“I’m not a prisoner.”
Dante chuckles darkly. “You kind of are. At least until we can figure out what they want with you.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Oh?” Dante says innocently.
“It’s because I’m with you. They’ll get to you through me blah blah blah. Don’t you watch action movies?”
Dante places a soft kiss to the nape of my neck, making a shiver work its way down my spine. I attempt to hide my body’s reaction, but Dante’s knowing upturned lips press against my skin.
“I don’t really like movies.” Dante pats my stomach gently. “Don’t you worry your little head about it. We’ll work it out.”
I roll over to glare at him. “Worry my little head… who the fuck do you think you are–”
Dante interrupts me by slamming his mouth onto mine. Anoomfescapes me, but then I quickly get with the program. God, the way Dante kisses is all-consuming. My entire body shuts down, all the oxygen trapped in my lungs. Delightful static fills my brain, like a television on a grayed-out channel. When Dante pulls away to bite at my throat, I bury my fingers in his hair and moan like the slut I am.
“I’ll kill anyone that hurts you,” Dante mumbles against my neck.
“What ifIhurt me?” I ask softly, a shake to my voice.
Dante lifts up, elbows to either side of my head to stare down at me. “No more of that. Unless it’s me hurting you.” He trails a hand down my chest to swirl the pads of his fingers just under my belly button, fingers toying with the belly button ring he seems oddly obsessed with. I shiver helplesslyand he grins, wide and cruel. “What if I hold a knife to your throat while we fuck? Would you like that?”
“You’re insane,” I whisper, heart beating wildly.
Dante dips down to whisper against my mouth, “And you like it.”
Fuck me, I do. Dante kisses me until my brain is static again, then gives me the slowest, most indulgent blow job of my life. And when he jacks himself off and comes all over my face, I try to tell myself I don’t like this at all. I don’t get off on the idea of being owned by Dante. I don’t feel a perverse and twisted joy when he says he’d murder for me.
The air looks chilly.Not that I’d know since I haven’t been outside yet today. I’d like to go to school though, if only Dante could stop arguing about who is going to protect me when.
“I don’t see why it can’t be me,” Dante grumbles, gaze stormy and aimed at Parker.
“Too invested. You’ll make questionable decisions,” Hayden explains with a dismissive wave of his hand. He smirks and looks at me over his shoulder. “Just let Parker do it. He’s just as capable as you, Dante.”
“Not with a gun,” Dante says sourly.
“Excuse me?” Parker pipes up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, apple in the palm of his hand. “Let’s go toe-to-toe at the range this weekend, buddy.”
