Page 52 of Rock Bottom

He looked up at me with big watery brown eyes, lips parted like he didn’t know what to say, which wasn’t like him at all. Dante always knew what to say. He always had something smart, sassy, and a little sharp in his back pocket, ready to go.

“Kiss me,” Dante whispered, leaning forward.

I blinked quickly in surprise. “Right now?”

“Why not?”

I leaned in, running my tongue over my bottom lip. “You expect me to kiss you just because you ordered me to?”

Dante smirked and leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice an octave. “No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, shaking my head while he laughed his bloody head off. “You’re such a nitwit!” I threw one of the sofa pillows at him.

Dante batted the pillow aside, laughing maniacally. I started to turn back to the movie, but Dante’s hand cupped my jaw and turned my face back to him. Soft, smiling lips closed over mine, and suddenly, there was nothing funny about any of it.

It wasn’t the first time we’d kissed, but all the ones that’d come before had been quick and simple, and that one was tied up in a big, complicated bow from the beginning. I was shocked, but I shouldn’t have been. Panicked, but more relaxed than I’d been in days. My arms were heavy and my head was light and there were parts of me that didn’t seem at all put together right. If they were, I’d know what to do, how to react. Instead, I sat there for far too long looking like an idiot.

The longer I did nothing, the worse the panic got. I wasn’t a schoolboy anymore, and we weren’t groping about in the dark after watching porn on my dad’s computer, and he wasn’t the secondary school bully I’d been crushing on in secret. This was Dante Deluca who’d probably kissed more people than I’d ever even thought about kissing. I must’ve seemed like such an idiot! But he seemed to like me being an idiot, so maybe that wasn’t so bad.

I gripped his arm and leaned into him, trying to follow his lead through it, trying to remember to relax, remember to breathe, figure out what to do with all the different and awkwardly sized parts of me that seemed to get in the way…

Dante broke the kiss. “Relax, kitten.”

My cheeks were burning so hot they hurt. I lowered my head. “I’m so bad at this. You must think I’m a fool.”

“I think you’re sexy when you blush, and twice as sexy when you’re awkward.” He tipped my chin up with two fingers, making me look him in the eye. “I like you, Christian.”

My heart galloped at the sound of my name—my real name—on his lips. I’d always hated my name and the way everyone said it, which was why I didn’t mind the nickname so much. When Dante said it, though, it sent goose bumps racing over my skin and made my cock throb.

“I haven’t had sex since I was nineteen,” I blurted and suddenly felt like an even bigger fool.

Dante frowned. “But we fooled around just the other day.”

“No, I mean…That was…” I sighed. “That was the first time in more than a decade I’d done anything with anyone.”

Dante’s eyes widened. “You’re joking. You’re what? Thirty-five?”

“Thirty-six,” I mumbled.

“God, man. No wonder you’re so uptight. Seventeen years without sex would do that to anyone.” He stood and grabbed my hands, kissing my knuckles. “Come on. We’ve got to make up for lost time!”

“Wait.”

He immediately let me go. “If you’re not ready, it’s okay.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, eyes darting toward the laptop screen. Bond made it look so easy. Just show up, say the right things, and women’s panties practically flew off for him. I’d never wanted that, but the one time I had an opportunity to be with someone I did like, I was hesitant. Why? Why couldn’t I just say yes?

I swallowed and looked up at Dante. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“You just don’t want to do it with me.”

“No, that’s not it at all!” I grabbed his hands back. “I do. At least, I think…” I sighed and wiped my hand over my face. “I don’t know what I want. This is…it’s a lot. I don’t want to…” I don’t want to be hurt like before.

I swallowed the words I couldn’t say and turned away. How was I ever supposed to explain that to Dante? It was easy for him. Just sex. He didn’t care about attachments. I wished I could be that way, but I wasn’t. Maybe something inside me was broken, but I couldn’t do it. Even if my body was completely on board, my heart and mind weren’t.

Dante sat back on the sofa, our knees touching, his hands in his lap. “It’s okay. I misread some signals. That’s my bad.”

I put my hand on his knee. “We could just do a little more snogging on the sofa?”

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