Page 37 of Depraved
I stand, quiet and still, letting my shitty decisions and insane life wash off me. I think the best in the shower, and right now, after what just went down, I need to think.
My thoughts are all over the place as I wash my hair with the shampoo he has in his shower. It smells fresh, like something that would be named cool breeze. Leaning my head back, I snigger at the idea of Dante owning something called cool breeze, rinse the soap out of my hair, and open my eyes, finishing with the conditioner.
Grabbing the soap, I lather the sponge in my other hand and begin to make tiny swirls over my body as more questions pop into my mind.
I wonder if he knows I was awake the whole time he was kissing me?
He has to. It was just too tempting. Like a forbidden bite of the apple. Damn, but my body feels like heaven and not hell. But just because it happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again.
I run my hands down my legs, realizing I need to shave…for all the sex I won’t be having from this point on.Lies. All lies.
Looking around, I come up empty. No razor. That’s a problem.
Opening the shower door, I peek my head out and scan the counter, spotting a shiny silver handle. I tiptoe out, careful not to fall on the slick marble flooring caused by the excess water, and nab it to use.
Halfway back, a throat clears, calling my attention to the doorway, and my head snaps to Dante leaned against the doorjamb with a grin on his face and his arms behind his back.
“Whatcha doing, Billy?”
I hold up the razor, naked and wet, goose bumps covering my body, and shake it at him. “I need to shave my legs.”
“I use that on my face,” he states, amused.
“Then it should be up for the challenge of my legs.” I counter as I walk back inside the shower.
The door closes, and I get back to business, ignoring him as if I don’t care as he walks inside the bathroom. Dante’s back is to me as he stands at the bathroom counter, only a smoky shadow for me to stare at. He stands for only a moment, before turning to leave without a word.
The moment he shuts the bathroom door, I rub a clear spot in the glass to see what he was doing, curiosity getting the better of me.
No way.
A grin graces my face as I look at a small stack of clothes, neatly folded and placed on the counter.
He brought me clothes. So, what? It’s not a big deal, but if that’s true, why am I smiling like a loon?
Oh man, I’m in so much trouble.
Hating him is going to be harder than I thought.
Showered and changed into new, clean sweats—fucking guys, this is what happens when they pick out clothes—I pad out of the bedroom barefoot and head back into the great room, but the house is empty, no guys, no noise.
There’s no way he trusts me alone. Although, I already know the elevator only works with a key card. Tried and failed that on the first night.
I look around and notice my purse sitting on the coffee table in the living room, so I head over and open it, grabbing my cell out, but it’s dead. Matteo was supposed to give this to me yesterday, but we got sidetracked by my impromptu dinner date.
I rustle around, searching to see if my keys are inside, but come up empty.Of course he took them.Noise comes from upstairs, and I hear Dante’s voice reverberate against the space. “Make sure. We need to be positive before we make a move.”
Against who?
My head lifts toward the top of the stairs as I watch him walk down. He always walks ahead, like he’s leading the charge. I’m pretty sure Dante sees himself as the person who protects the men behind him and not the other way around. That’s probably why they’re so loyal to him.
It’s obvious by their demeanor. Anytime I’ve ever seen them all together, it’s clear that Dante is where he is because of respect not because of fear. His brothers treat him the same way. Especially Luca.
It’s what makes him so powerful. They would all die to protect him, and he would never even need to ask.
“You don’t listen very well,” he calls out, taking the last step, dragging me from my thoughts.
Vincenzo laughs but gives me an apologetic nod when I narrow my eyes at him. I’m still mad at him.
