Page 43 of Girl Going Nowhere

“She told me I was a terrible son.”

What a bitch.“You’re not. You know that.”

All he does is shrug.

Sighing, I take the cigarette from him and inhale some of the nicotine. Coughing, I pass it back to him as he watches me curiously. “Have you considered my offer? I know some good lawyers that could probably help your mother. All we need to do is set up a time for them to meet.”

He pushes off the wall, using the brick to put out the cigarette butt. “That would require my mother to want help, which we both know she doesn’t. If a restraining order isn’t going to stop her from seeing that shithead, nothing else will.”

Even though he’s right, I want to do something to ease the pressure constantly weighing him down. “Have you asked Rafael if—”

“No,” Dante cuts me off. “I’m not asking him to help me with anything.”

I lift my palms in surrender. “It was just a thought. He’s got a little more resources than you do, that’s all I was getting at. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help from people who can offer it.”

Dante’s eyes harden. “Well, I have no intention of using him for anything. I’ll figure it out. I’m used to it.”

It’s pointless to argue with him, so I choose to let it go. He’s angry, so he won’t listen to logic, no matter how helpful it could be.

I jab my finger toward the apartment. “I’m going inside. You coming? Or do you and Rafael have plans tonight?”

His eyes go toward the street, studying the people speed walking to escape the rain. Sighing, he swipes a palm down the side of his jaw before turning to me. “Raf has a business thing tonight.”

Slowly nodding, I step toward the door. “Do you want a beer? Brodie bought some more last night. Or we could go to the Oak Tavern to get out for a bit. It might be good for the both of us.”

Because we sure as shit can’t be trusted home alone together.

When Dante meets my eyes, I see the same broken man I do on the nights he creeps into my room. “I don’t want alcohol right now.”

I know that tone and what’s on his mind.

Still, I ask, “Whatdoyou want?”

He looks up at the building. “Blake isn’t home yet either.”

“It’s Wednesday,” I tell him, tongue wetting my lips. “She gets out of work later.”

The noise that rises up his throat hardens my cock instantly. Because I know what we’re about to go upstairs to do.

Dante steps toward me. “Fuck me.”

“Dante…”

He closes the distance, blocking my body from view of the street and grabbing the obvious erection trapped behind my denim. “You want it too, don’t pretend you don’t.”

That’s all it takes before the guttural groan escapes my throat. It fuels the quick walk up to our apartment, the anticipation thick between us. I barely have time to set my bag down before he’s on me, mouth crushing against mine, guiding me to my bedroom.

His hands are on my shirt, stripping it off me, then my jeans, peeling them down my legs along with my briefs. My fingers dip into the back of his head when he drops to his knees and takes me into his mouth, working my shaft with his hand and tongue until I’m as hard as I’ve ever been.

“Fuck, Dante,” I moan, thrusting deeper into his mouth until he gags on me. Tugging on his hair to pull him up, he lets me undress him with eager hands, helping me with his jeans until we’re both naked and hard in front of each other.

We don’t bother lying to one another this time by saying it’s the last time. Like his nicotine addiction, it’s not something we can quit.

Not when we feel what it’s like to get off using each other. His mouth and hands on my dick, his fingers teasing my ass, his teeth against my throat, and hot breath against my ear as he pumps me.

Nothing but our heavy breathing fills the room as I drop him onto the bed and bend his legs toward his chest so I can get where he wants me easier.

The nightstand opens.

---