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Dante swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel, forcing back his fear. “Now that thought is freak-out worthy,” he said. “It makes me sick to think of you being killed by...well, by anything. The thought of losing you again is...” He gave a violent shake to his head, forcing the thought to flee.
“Me, too. I feel a little dizzy. Mosi may have been nothing but a sacrificial lamb.” Tears pricked at Kennedy’s eyes. She blinked them back as if trying to keep them from falling on her soft cheeks.
“You’re here now. You’re safe.”
“Am I safe? I don’t know who’s coming to the States to find me. All I know is someone from the African consulate contacted Barnes to determine whether or not I worked there.”
“I’ll help you. I promise to make sure you’re safe. But first, let’s eat. I’m famished. Honestly, Kennedy, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He made a mental list of who to contact, first thing tomorrow...after he made love to Kennedy for the thousandth time. He planned on making the most of the night. He switched on the keyless ignition and pulled into traffic.
“Thank you. And Dante?”
“Yeah?” He glanced at her face and nearly lost it, she looked so beautiful. Filled with want, he stepped on the gas.
“Thanks for listening. It felt really good to share with you and have you listen and not run away, thinking I’m a loser.”
“You’re anything but a loser, Kennedy. I admire your strength and resilience.”
“Thank you. That feels great to hear.”
A few minutes later, armed with take-out from a chic-chic deli, Dante made haste to his favorite look-out spot in a somewhat private place overlooking the Hudson River. After he’d parked the car, he leaned toward Kennedy, saying, “I can’t help it. You make me crazy inside, sweet Kennedy.” He pulled her close, inviting her into an intimate exchange with his lips. Her hungry response made him ache with need. “We should have stayed in,” he murmured into her lips.
“It’s a ‘make it work’ moment,” she said, regarding him with teasing, sultry eyes.
“There’s a console in the way. A steering wheel preventing movement. And a whole lot of hungry, prying eyes once we exit the car.”
“Yes, but we have tinted windows,” she said as if that took care of everything. “And the night is falling all around us.” Kennedy flashed him a mischievous smile and lowered her seat back.
He did the same. “I take it you’re not hungry?”
“Oh, I am. Starving, in fact. Starving for your touch.”
“Jesus,” he whispered, his erection begging for release. He couldn’t take her the way he wanted to. Couldn’t lay her out, strip her naked and have his way with her. But he also couldn’t stop doing something, anything to get close. He ran his fingers along her shoulders. Traced her red spiral with his index finger. “This leads to my place,” he whispered in her ear.
“You mean your initials?” she asked, then bit her lip.
“Yep. Those mark the door to my house. Mine. I intend to claim you. Let you know what you already began—you’re mine. Let you see you made the right move by marking your creamy thigh with my initials. My place. No one else's. Mine.”
“Someone’s getting bossy,” she said, in a soft voice that whispered around his heart.
“Yes. Someone is.”
“You’re talking all kinds of serious, Dante. Isn’t this talk a few weeks down the road?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re conveying exclusivity. Is that what you’re stating?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Exclusive rights. How else can you be mine?”
“What about all your adoring fans?” she asked.
“I’m not intimate with my adoring fans. I’m intimate with you, sweetheart. Only you.” His hand gently landed between her legs. “Mine,” he said, outlining the place where his initials stood.
Her legs parted somewhat, confined by the car door and the console.
He took her opening as an invitation, stealthily moving his fingers underneath her barely-there panties...wait a minute...there were no panties. He swore under his breath, both aroused and suddenly extremely possessive. “All this time, your kitty cat has been uncovered?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“What am I going to do with you? I’m going to have to put my coat around your waist when we go dancing to keep all the other boys at bay.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t break dance and flash anyone.”
“Your skirt’s pretty short.”
“Yes, but it covers what’s important. You can’t see the initials or anything. Unless you get real close.” She laughed again.
“Holy cow, I’m going to have a heart attack here, Kennedy. That place is mine.”
“Clearly marked.”
“Good point. Still. Anyone who dares to get close enough to see will have my fist in his face.”
“You’re funny.”
“Not kidding. Feeling a little crazy possessive over here.”
“When you could be feeling me.” She flashed a slow grin in his direction, widening her legs as best she could.
“Shit.” He moved his upper body as close to her as he could get, kissing her succulent mouth. His hand continued exploring, gliding everywhere. So wet. Wet for me. He deepened the kiss as he stroked, alternating between flicking her clit and pushing his fingers inside. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking and tasting her sweet, musky fragrance. “Damn, baby. You taste so good. Can’t wait to get between your legs with my mouth.”
When she began to moan, saying his name as a cry of ecstasy, an overwhelmingly satisfying sensation filled his heart. No one had ever cried out his name the way Kennedy did. She made him feel like he mattered. She made him feel like he was seen, felt, sensed and sourced.
She wasn’t like the girls who wanted to bed a rock star, then take a selfie to show all her friends, something he never allowed. Matter of fact, his tour bodyguard confiscated their phones before he got them into bed. Being with Kennedy was a million times different. Loving on her was so damn easy when she opened to him. Being with her made his sleazy secret as heavy as an iron wrecking ball, bashing his insides to get free. He chided himself. She shared. Why can’t you?
“Damn,” she breathed when she’d come down from her pleasure. “I’ve never climaxed so easily. I must be wired to you.” A gentle, teasing smile, laced with vulnerability spread across her beautiful face.
His tongue knotted up with secret shame, making a response impossible. All he could manage was a lame, “Ready to eat?”
“Sure,” she said, her eyebrows knitting together. “You?”
“Absolutely. Let’s head for that bench there... the one overlooking the water.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “Is everything all right?”
He reached across the console and kissed away her concerns. “Everything’s fantastic,” he murmured into her lips. He reached into the back seat and grabbed a T-shirt. “Use this, so you don’t get your pretty dress dirty,” he offered.
“Thank you.”
Next, he seized his calfskin jacket. “And put this over your shoulders. Don’t want you to get chilled.”
“Thank you,” she repeated.
Even the simple gesture of handing her his jacket made him feel ten times better than he’d ever felt with Maddy. With her, he’d been in an endless cat and mouse game, chasing her to see if she was using again, even spying on her. When that thought surfaced, he wanted to groan and bash his head against the sidewalk. Gia’s right. I should never have checked into her background. I’m an idiot.
Two hours later he guided Kennedy into the back entrance of Crow & Wicket. The place was packed. He pushed Kennedy protectively through the crowd, spying Gia, Heat, Keys, Zander, and crew at a table in the back.
“Hey, Dante...Kennedy,” Zander yelled.
“Hi,” called Mia.
Kent gave Dante a knowing look, which he shook off with a toss of his head. He caught Kennedy eyeing the quick exchange, and he smiled warmly at her, trying to distract her.
“Well, hello, gorgeous,” said Heat, sidling up to Kennedy. “Letting him get you warmed up for me, are you? I’ll be ready.”
“Back off, jackass,” Dante said, giving his shoulder a little shove.
“Easy, stud,” Gia called. She turned to Kennedy. “Hey!” she yelled over the din. “I see the Hulk here has claimed you.”
Even through the dim lights, Dante could see Kennedy’s cheeks turning pink. “Cut me some slack, Gia.”
“What? It’s nice to see you happy. Want to dance?” she asked Kennedy.
“Not until I get several turns.” Dante cut between her and Kennedy and guided her onto the dance floor.
Kennedy danced extremely well. She matched him move for move as if they were born to dance together.
Dante eyed every guy within spitting distance of her. He’d move next to her if a guy got too close. When she lifted her arms, he practically screamed at the crowd to not look at her legs. If he had a torch, he’d be waving it in every guy’s face. They all glanced at her, their eyes hungry, practically drooling on her.
Kennedy laughed at him. “Look, Dante, I can lift my arms and nothing shows. I tried it in the mirror. See?” Again her arms launched high and she wiggled her hips.
“Jesus,” he yelled. “Heart attack over here, remember?”
After several songs, Gia cut in. She made all sorts of dirty dance moves with Kennedy, causing her to laugh and reciprocate.
Knowing Gia would never inflict herself between him and his love interest, Dante enjoyed the interchange, watching Kennedy with lust and longing. After several songs, he pulled her to him to kiss her sweet, succulent mouth.
Several camera flashes went off. Dante deepened the kiss, lifting his middle finger over his head. When he finally released her, she looked breathless and beautiful. The music throbbed around them, everyone danced, surging in the electric waves passing through them and around them. They got caught up in the dance again, with Gia by their side.
Finally, Kennedy said, “I need some water.”
“Absolutely. I’m going to get a beer.” He pushed a trail through the crowd until they reached the table.
“I’ve got to use the ladies’ room,” Kennedy yelled to him.
“I’ll get your water. Want anything else?”
She shook her head and turned to saunter to the bathroom.
Dante watched the seductive swish of her hips as she exited. He thought about following her to make sure no other guy made a move on her, but Gia interrupted him.
“Let her go by herself. Give her some space, dude. You’re really into her, and you seem to be afraid she’ll leave. You were crowding her on the dance floor like a big ape.”
Dante’s gaze sliced in her direction, not pleased with what she said. “I am really into her. Deep.”
Gia made an exaggerated movement with her arms and spoke in a British accent. “Allow it to bloom, baby.”
“Right. Yeah. I hear you. I’m going to go get a beer and water for Kennedy. Can I buy you anything? Ice tea?”
“Yeah, the Long Island version.” Gia rolled her eyes. “Get me a bourbon, neat.”
Dante gave her his typical scowl and stalked toward the bar, as partygoers whipped out their cellphones and snapped photos of him. Propped on the sleek, brushed chrome bartop, who should settle her hips next to him but Marquise. Dante shot her a sidelong glance and cringed.
“You look fantastic out there on the dance floor, Dante.” She gently raked his arm with her long fingernails.
“Get lost, Marquise. And don’t you dare take more publicity shots.”
“Or what? You’ll stop paying me? Please. We both know better than that. I’ve got you by the balls, baby.” She drummed her nails, the color of new money, on the chrome, making an annoying clickety-clack. “Who’s the new chick?”
The hair on Dante’s neck stood straight. “None of your business. Stay the fuck away from her.”
“She’s pretty,” Marquise commented.
“She’s gorgeous, inside and out.”
A look of sad weariness flashed across her face, replaced by her usual haughty demeanor. “I’m happy for you, Dante,” she said, leaning to kiss Dante’s cheek.
“A deep background check, really?” Kennedy’s words shot through the crowd and ricocheted through his head. “And now this?”
Dante whirled around to see Kennedy cutting holes through both him and Marquise with her leveled gaze, her hand gesturing between him and the vixen by his side. “What are you talking about?” he feigned. “This bitch always seeks me out and creates an illusion.”
“Uh huh. Like I believe you. Wait—let me do a background check on you, too, and see if you’re telling the truth. You bastard. Mia told me, in the bathroom. She said something about how cool it was that I dated a prince and how sorry she was he got killed. That’s why you and Kent exchanged a look, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “I knew it was too good to be true. You had to vet me to see if I’m worthy enough to be with the great Dante Vega. Nice.”
“It’s not like that. I swear.”
Marquise watched the exchange with amusement.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Dante said to her.
“I don’t think so. This is too entertaining.”
“Go!” Dante’s voice boomed through the noise.
“Don’t bother. I’m leaving,” Kennedy said.
“Wait!” Dante said.
She whirled to face him, her breathtaking blue eyes revealing outrage and betrayal, and deep, deep pain. “No! I’m taking a taxi home. I need some space. I actually thought we were going somewhere, Dante.” With tears in her eyes, she pivoted and pushed through the crowd. Dante started to follow her but Marquise’s claws wrapped around his biceps.
“Stay. Let her go.”
“Get your filthy talons off of me, Marquise,” Dante roared.
The amateur paparazzi aka Marked Love “fan club” went wild, taking photo after photo.
When Dante pried Marquise’s fingers off his arm, he raced through the throng, searching for Kennedy’s golden locks. Nothing. When he reached the front of the club, he searched frantically up and down the street for signs of her. More nothing. He whipped out his phone and texted her. Give me a chance to explain. After a few seconds, he typed I won’t give up on you. After a few more seconds with no response, his fingers poised over the screen, he thought about what he should say next. Finally, he thumbed, Please don’t give up on me, turned and walked back into the club, determined to give himself another massive hangover before calling it a night.
