But I held back. I don’t know why, but I didn’t let myself get sucked toward him, even though everything about him made me want to kiss his lips.
“I’m fine,” he grunted. “Just a car accident.”
“Just a—” I stopped myself. “What the hell happened, Dante?”
“Help me upstairs.”
I hesitated as he stepped into the house and closed the door. He locked the door and looked at me.
I took a sharp breath and took a step closer. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“If you help me upstairs.”
I nodded and went to him. I let out a sigh of relief as I gave in to my desires and let him put some weight onto my shoulders. I helped him limp up the steps, both flights, and back to his room. I got him sitting down on the edge of the tub as I started to draw a bath, but he waved me off.
“Not now,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Let me.” I knelt down in front of him and slowly undid the buttons. He winced as I helped him get the jacket and the shirt off, tossing both on the floor. “You’re going through suits like candy.”
He laughed and winced. “Yeah, well, fortunately I can afford more. And I like buying them. Justifies some purchases.”
I smiled but didn’t say anything as he slowly took the bandage off. I frowned at the wound, touched it with my fingers, and got a wet towel. I cleaned it off as gently as I could and looked up into his eyes.
“Stitches aren’t broken,” I said.
“Good.” He seemed relieved. “I didn’t feel like getting them done again. I think Chen would kill me himself.”
I smiled a little and opened the cabinet under the sink. I found new bandages and some tape, and put a new covering in place. He let out a breath as I wiped the blood from a shallow cut on his head and he frowned.
“Didn’t realize that happened,” he said. “Must’ve been when the car crashed.”
I stood back from him and crossed my arms. His eyes flicked to my chest and I was suddenly very aware of the low-cut tank top I had on. “What happened?” I asked.
He told me from the beginning, starting with when they were in the cars at the bottom of the hill, all the way through the chase. I listened to every word, hanging on it like a lifeline, and when he finished, I let out a little grunt. “Okay,” I said. “That’s, uh…”
“More than you wanted to know, I guess.”
“I knew you did things like that,” I said, looking away, staring at the fluffy white towel hanging over the rack on the wall. “I mean, of course you do, I saw it with my own eyes. But that…”
“It was a good hit,” he said.
I stepped back from him, a jolt of disgust racing through me. “I don’t know how you can say that.”
He snorted. “Easy. It was.”
“Dante…”
He pushed himself to his feet. He winced then smiled at me. I took another step away, my heart racing. His body was covered in tattoos, sweat, and muscles, and I had the sudden, insane urge to kiss him. Instead, I stayed where I was, watching him warily.
“You watched them try to kill me twice,” he said, his voice low, and he laughed. “And you’re shocked when I hit them back harder. Aida, this is the sort of man I am. I kill those that cross me.”
“I know. I know that. It’s just… how many men died today?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.”
“Six. Maybe seven. Could be more, I’m not sure. Could be Vlas was the only one that got away.”
“And they were important?”
“To the Russians, yes. Half of Vlas’s captains died out there today, and all of his best fighters.” He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “All because of the fucking cartel.”
I stared at him for a long moment and felt the heat rise into my cheeks. “Good,” I whispered.
He stared at me then laughed. He laughed deep and loud, and stepped toward me. I stepped back, running up against the wall, but he didn’t stop coming. He stooped down and grabbed my hair tight, hard in his fist, pulled my head back. I gasped as he kissed my neck and palmed my ass, pulling it against him. I felt his bare chest against my breasts and I couldn’t help but let out a little moan.
“So now you’re okay with violence?” he said. “All because they were important.”
“I just… I hate them, okay? I hate them for trying to hurt you. I hate them for doing this to you.”
“You’re conflicted,” he said.
“I hate violence just as much. I hate myself for liking what you are. I hate you for making me like it.”
He kissed my throat then bit my lip. “Tell me how much you like it.”
“I like that you’re strong. I like… I like that you take what you want.” I gasped as he pulled my hair and slid a hand down the front of my shorts.
I moaned as his fingers began to roll around my pussy. He spread my lips and teased me before finding my clit.
“I like… I like that you’re strong. That you don’t take shit. That you hit back and hurt people that try to hurt… hurt you.” I moaned and he pulled my hair again, making me gasp, as he worked my clit faster with his fingers.
“Tell me more,” he growled.
“I like that you fuck me,” I said. “I like that you fuck me and aren’t gentle. I like that you’re hard, and it turns you on when I’m rough. I like that you… oh, fuck… oh my god…” I gasped as he bit my lip and kept working my clit faster, faster. “I like that you don’t stop… don’t stop… oh my god… I like that you don’t stop when you’re hurting. I like that you… fuck. I like
