Fractured Freedom(65)

I moaned at the thought, and Troy took it as encouragement. “God, I want to fuck you in this pool,” he groaned and pushed his dick harder into my stomach. It wasn’t even that big.

I shouldn’t have been comparing, but as it turned out, I wouldn’t be checking much more than getting drunk off my Eat Pray Love list tonight.

I let our kiss linger and tried a last-ditch effort to hold on to his hair as I deepened it.

The sound of the waves just feet away from the infinity pool were relaxing, and the smell of sea salt and tobacco loosened me up, but—

I froze at the smell.

Tobacco. Not just the type from cigarettes either. I’d know that cigar smell anywhere.

He’d only smoked it one time around me, but I’d fallen asleep to that smell, I’d reveled in it and cataloged it as a comfort.

I jerked away from Troy and sobered up fast, not even sure what I was thinking in the first place with the lesson I’d wanted to teach Dante. He wouldn’t be okay with this.

Not even if I were only his friend. Or simply his best friend’s little sister.

I was breaking hotel rules, I was sure. I was making out with a stranger in the middle of the night. I was being reckless. Stupid. And drunk.

The alcohol tasted sour in my mouth as I searched for him. My eyes flew everywhere, only to find his dark silhouette lounging comfortably on a small white hotel chair near some shrubbery. He seemed to take up the whole area, to swallow the chair, and his legs in just swim trunks spread out to own the space around him. When he lifted the cigar’s glowing cherry, it illuminated his tattooed chest and how his lips sucked on the other end, his cheeks hollowed, and his brows lowered.

Our gazes caught in the darkness, and he took a long drag as he stared like he was trying to curb the emotion he felt. Like the cigar might soothe him a little.

His green eyes burned bright, though, and the emotion didn’t dim at all.

I bit my lip and murmured to my date, my eyes still on Dante. “So, I don’t think this is going any further tonight.”

“What?” Disbelief sounded from Troy’s mouth, like I was being a cock-tease. A Tinder hookup gone wrong wasn’t that hard to understand, though. Things like this happened all the time. He glanced behind him to see the dark figure and scoffed. “Is it because of that creep watching us? So what? Let’s give him a show.”

Troy grabbed my waist, a little rougher than I anticipated. I tried my best not to make a scene as I shoved his arm. If I did, I had a feeling Dante would break it.

“Look, I know I probably led you on—” I gripped Troy’s arm and glared at him to get my point across.

“Led me on?” His eyes widened and then narrowed in malice. His hand on my waist tightened.

I glanced at the chair where Dante had been, but the glowing red cherry was gone. No sign of him anywhere.

“Led me on, Delilah?” he sneered this time. “You practically spread your legs—”

“Careful.” Low and vicious in warning, Dante’s voice was right beside us. “You’re talking to the one person in the world I refuse to have hurt.”

“Dante, it’s fine.” I turned to see him close to us in the water. His muscles glowed against the light, his abs rippled, his neck flexed. I gulped as I saw how the veins wormed over his forearm like they were struggling to contain the strength that lay beneath them.

His green eyes didn’t even flick my way. They were on the guy’s arm where he still held me.

Troy didn’t take the hint. “Look, asshole, you’ve been watching us like a creep for the past five minutes. You want a show and I’ll give you one. I just need a minute with her to get her on the same page as—”

He must have seen the way Troy’s elbow bent to pull me in because suddenly I was free, water was splashing, Troy cried out, and then there was silence.

Silence except for the waves in the distance.

I squinted and found that Dante held that man’s arm in a very awkward position and small bubbles floated up to the surface of the water.

“Dante—”

“How long do you think he was holding you against your will?” he asked just loud enough for me to hear.

“You’re drowning him,” I stammered as I glanced around to see if anyone was going to stop him. The only person I saw was Leonardo, who stood completely stoic except for a hand that went to a button. Suddenly, all the lights around us, already dim, went out.

Well, that would be aiding and abetting in court, I was sure. “You can’t—”

“I can do whatever I want.” His words were pointed and meant to make me see the man I was really dealing with. An Armanelli.

A wolf.

A vicious protector.

“When a man pushes himself on a woman, more specifically my woman, I intend to teach him manners or have him die learning.”

“Dante …” I murmured as I stared at the bubbles getting smaller and smaller. “He’s learned.”

His jaw worked for seconds that felt like hours. The tendons in his neck strained like they couldn’t hold the fury in this man’s head much longer. Then he took a long, deep breath. His eyes closed, and his whole body—except that hand holding Troy—relaxed. Then he said, “Only for you, Lamb,” before yanking Troy up by his elbow.

Choking and gasping, Troy floundered as Dante shoved him away.