Page 52 of The Club

I meet Dante’s ice cold fury with absolute refusal. “This is not happening in my bar.”

Dante’s jaw bunches. He hates that he can’t control me.

That’s why, years ago, it was such an epic disaster when we almost fucked. I couldn’t submit to him like he needed. He couldn’t dominate me like I needed.

It’s so different with Dominic. We fight just right. He hurts me exactly like I need. He fucks me exactly like I need.

I’ve spent years confused about my feelings for Dante. I wanted it to work and couldn’t really understand why it didn’t. But standing between the two of them now, it’s so fucking obvious.

Dante’s eyes go even colder. “You know what he did to Tristan.”

From behind me, Dominic says to Dante, “If you want to go outside, Adesso, we can settle this.”

“No.” That comes from Tristan. He’s standing on the other side of the bar, near enough for his pretty boy face to show exactly how pissed off he is. “No fighting. We’ll go to the breakroom.”

Oh, so he owns the place now? I shoot Tristan a look. Under his pretty face and polished mannerisms, he’s a tough little shit, which makes him a great bartender and generally good employee, but he’s annoyed me ever since he and Dante started fucking.

Tristan, however, is unmoved by my annoyance. The shitty thing is, he’s right. Dominic and Dante are too well matched, physically and in viciousness. They might kill each other.

I hold Dante’s furious gaze. “You heard your boyfriend. Or whatever the hell he is.”

Somehow, with a lot of grumbling and threatening looks, we get to the lounge-style breakroom. There’s a couch and chairs, an attached bathroom, and a bunch of erotic photographs on thewalls. I’ve taken many over the years. I want to take some of Dominic.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve coming in here,” Dante snarls in Dominic’s face. Before Dominic can reply, Dante pivots toward me. “And why the hell would you even let him in?”

“We’re fucking,” I reply.

Everyone freezes. The silence is absolute.

I shrug. It’s best to get it out in the open.

I add, “It’s the best sex of my life.”

Enough red blooms across Dominic’s cheekbones to show even through his olive complexion, but I’m not sure if it’s because I just outed him or because I just complimented him.

Dante huffs. “Well, that’s saying something.”

Dominic thrusts out an angry finger. “Watch your fucking mouth, Adesso.”

Dante raises an eyebrow, and so do I. Is Dominic defending me?

Tristan steps in. He’s got way too many simmering anger issues under that pretty face to be your typical peacekeeper, but in this mix, he’s the only hope we have.

He says, “Everything is actually fine.”

“Fine?” Dante echoes. “Nothing here isfine, Tristan. And why the hell did you jump so guiltily when you saw me?”

Anger flashes across Tristan’s face. “I was startled, not guilty. And it was because I knew how you’d react!”

“You were serving drinks to a man who fucking kidnapped you!”

“Apparently, I have a tolerance for psychotic, violent assholes.” He looks, quite pointedly, from Dante to Dominic to me.

I can’t help it. I laugh.

Everyone glares at me. I’m not sure why. That really was funny.

Dominic says as though reasserting the serious tone, “You’re the one with the nerve, Adesso, getting in my face when you killed my father.”

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