Page 48 of Under His Protection

“What?” She laughed lightly. “You sound funny.”

“Probably because I just had sex with Dante.”

“You what?” She screeched it, shouting so loudly that I pulled the phone from my ear and winced for a second or two. “You slept with him?”

I scanned the fitting room, glancing at all the discarded dresses. I settled my gaze on the chair Dante sat in to push me to come so hard.

“No sleeping… We were, uh, trying to find a dress for a gala tomorrow, and one thing led to another.”

“Nina!” she gasped. “Seriously?”

I bit my lip and nodded even though she couldn’t see. “In a fitting room.” I didn’t know why I whispered. No one could possibly hear me in here. Or if they could, the loud cries and shouts would’ve given away what we were doing.

“That’s wicked, girl.”

“I feel so naughty, but it was bound to happen. I mean, just yesterday, he tried to say that we were ‘practicing’ kissing and?—”

“Okay. You can give me the details later.”

I furrowed my brow at her abrupt cut off. Then I recalled that she’d contacted me. Ten times with no answer. “Yeah. I can. What’s wrong?”

“Everything!” She groaned loudly. “My parents are getting ridiculous.”

They always have been ridiculous.

“They keep pressuring me to get onboard with the idea of marrying Elliot.”

I cringed, hanging up the dresses on the racks while I listened to her worries. Mr. and Mrs. West had made it clear that they wanted Tessa, their only child, to marry the son of a family friend. If Elliot were a decent man, I supposed Tessa wouldn’t be so adamant to avoid the future her parents envisioned for her. But he wasn’t. Elliot was a creepy, sleazy, and weird man. For all his faults, he had something the Wests valued greatly—money. Elliot was a successful but likely corrupt lawyer. Tessa had been telling them no, that she wanted to choose someone of her own picking to marry, but they wouldn’t listen.

Listening to her rant about how pushy her mom was, encouraging her to contact Elliot more often, then how her father would lecture her almost nightly, I tidied up the fitting room.

She didn’t let me get a word in edgewise, but that was fine with me. After I set her call to speaker, I saw that Dante had texted me.

Dante: Are you all right?

Nina: Yeah. Got a call from my friend. She seems to need a moment of girl talk.

Dante: So you’re the sort of woman to kiss and tell?

I smirked, twisting my lips at his playfulness. He was such a badass, hardcore Mafia boss all the time. With me, in private, he loosened up.

Nina: Correct my memory, but I don’t recall having the privilege of kissing you very much in this fitting room.

Dante: Next time, then.

Nina: Next time we share a fitting room?

It wasn’t supposed to be this fun, teasing him. This banter wasn’t fake. Neither was riding his dick. I rubbed my face, torn by how far off the path we’d gotten. I wouldn’t take a second of it back, but I wanted to know when a “next time” would come.

Dante: Next time I fill your tight pussy with my dick.

I pulled my lips in and fought back a grin. Oh, boy. I had a hunch this was what he was referring to when he told me to be careful what I wished for. I’d told him to act like he was with me, and he sure was up to that challenge. Deep down, I suspected he hadn’t been acting at all today. Not with those so-called practice kisses, nor with the torrid quickie we’d shared in here.

“Nina?”

I jolted at Tessa’s sharper use of my name.

“Are you even listening?”

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