Good.
But then his mouth curves. That dangerous, knowing smile that makes my stomach flip in ways I refuse to acknowledge.
"That won't be necessary." He reaches into the drawer. "I think I can figure it out."
He pulls out the first one.
A small purple vibrator. Bullet-shaped.
Heat crawls up my neck.
"Interesting," he says. Turns it over in his hand like he's examining a piece of evidence. "Compact. Portable. For when you're in a hurry?"
I don't answer.
He sets it aside. Reaches back in.
The second one is pink. Curved. Designed for?—
"G-spot stimulation." He reads my mind. Or maybe just the obvious shape.
My face is on fire. I can feel it. There's no hiding it.
"Put that down."
He ignores me. Sets the pink one next to the purple one. Reaches in again.
The third one makes my heart stop.
It's the newest addition. Black silicone. Realistic. Eight inches.
Dante holds it up to the light like he's appraising a fine wine.
"Now this," he says slowly, "this is ambitious."
"Dante—"
"I'm impressed, cara. You've been busy."
"I'm warning you?—"
"Experimenting." He turns the dildo over. Studies it from every angle. "Exploring. Finding out what you like."
I want to die. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I want to go back in time and shove that drawer shut before he ever saw it.
But I can't move.
I'm frozen in place, watching him handle my most private possessions like they're toys at a store.
Which, technically, they are.
But that's not the point.
"There's nothing wrong with a woman knowing her own body," Dante continues. His voice has dropped. Lower. Rougher. "In fact, I'd say it's admirable."
"I don't need your approval."
"No. You don't." He meets my eyes. "But you have it anyway."
