Page 31 of Depraved
“Well, sweetheart, life doesn’t work that way. You’ve already taken a bite, so you can’t forget the taste. Might as well have some fun while he sorts out your crazy-ass situation.”
Does he make sense, or am I looking for an excuse? My eyebrows draw together as I look down at my thighs on the countertop, contemplating what he’s said.
Nope. Not going to figure that one out today. I shake my head and look up, snapping my fingers at Matteo.
“Shut up and cook. I’m hungry, bitch.”
“Soo fucking lucky you’re a girl.”
Before I can answer, his cell buzzes, and he looks down at the number, hitting the Answer button quickly. “What’s up, boss?”
“You beckoned,” I drawl sweetly, standing in front of Dante in the middle of the dimly lit little Italian restaurant called Mama’s in my sweats, flip-flops, and an old T-shirt that says Al’s Autobody.
I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard the guys talk about it plenty, and considering when we got here all that’s been spoken around me is Italian, I figure this place is pretty authentic.
“Sit.” He juts his chin to the space across from him and takes a bite of his entrée. “Do you want some wine?”
I can’t help the irritated look that plays across my face before I blurt out, “Why am I here, Dante? This is embarrassing.”
He looks up, maybe surprised by my candor, and picks up his napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Oh, don’t be a gentleman on my account. I know the real you; might as well treat the plate like a trough.” I grin, sitting down and scooting into place.
He laughs and lifts the red wine toward me. I grab the stem of my wineglass and hold it up for him to pour.
“I thought we’d have dinner together. Is that so terrible? And you look beautiful, Billy.”
I lick my lips, almost feeling bad as he straightens the wine bottle and places it back on the table.
“I had a lovely dinner being prepared for me back at lockdown.” I bring the delicious and much-needed glass of wine to my lips and take a sip.
Dante drops his utensils down by his plate, leaning back into the soft cushioned red banquette. “How is it you hate me for helping you? Explain that. You’d think you’d be nicer.”
I hate the way he looks at me, because I know the only reason I’m pushing back so hard is that I can’t risk him finding out everything I’m tangled up in. He’s too stubborn and pushy, and my little fight would go from street match to a world war.
But that look. Like I’m ungrateful…no, like I’m disappointing him. It’s gutting me.
“Don’t look at me that way.”
My voice is quiet as I take another sip of wine.
“What way? Like I’m surprised that a smart girl like you wouldn’t know how to show your appreciation? Or that I’m disappointed that you haven’t offered yet?”
What. The. Fuck.
That’s the last answer I expected from his lips.
I huff out a laugh and swallow back my wine, bringing the glass down harder than necessary. “Nice to see your true colors, Dante. First, I’m appreciative of favors when I ask for them, and even though we made a deal today, that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly the damsel you want me to be. And I’m not at all sorry that I haven’t offered to blow you yet as a show of just how grateful I’mnot.”
Dante silently stares at me for a moment, possibly contemplating my death, but fuck him. He tips his head back, and a deep rumble fills the space as he laughs.
He picks his knife and fork back up then cuts into some peppers. “I don’t want your body as gratitude. No, that I want you to offer freely. It’s more fun that way. I just meant you could figure out how to fucking be nice, Billy. But I see I was asking too much.”
He keeps laughing to himself as he takes another bite, and I hate how much of an asshole I feel like. I grab the bottle and pour myself another glass.
“I’m sorry. I’m the asshole. You’re right. We made a deal, but you said we still had negotiations, so that thought is still lurking… I need to be careful with men like you…you can’t blame me too much.”
His brow furrows as I speak, and he reaches for his own wineglass.
