Dial a Stud: Dante's Story (16 page)

The reason I couldn’t move, was because he still had me tightly wrapped in his arms, and the unrelenting heat that surrounded me, was him. He was burning up again.

I managed to prise one arm out from under him, and rested the back of my hand on his forehead. God, he was so hot. He needed more Aspirin. Of course to give it to him, I needed to get up, and given how firmly he was holding me, that might be challenging.

I shifted my hands to his chest, and started to push. Holy hell, the man was nothing but solid muscle. His skin was so smooth, but so damned hot too. As my fingers spread over his pectoral muscles, I had to mentally lecture myself, about doing what my instincts were screaming at me to do. I itched to run my hands over him. Explore every single bulge and ridge of his stunning body. Of course the more I thought of it, the more, I knew I should slap myself.

“He’s sick you fool.” I whispered to myself, and that was my wake up call, to stop fondling the man’s muscles, and get up to medicate him again.

It felt like it took forever, slowly, inch by inch, extracting myself from Dante’s arms. He shifted restlessly, and I worried he’d wrap me up, so I couldn’t move again, but he didn’t. Finally I was able to shimmy off the bed and get to my feet.

I hurried into his en-suite to use the bathroom quickly, and cringed when I saw myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my makeup, which I hadn’t washed off the night before, had smeared around my eyes, and I looked like, an inebriated raccoon that hadn’t bathed in a week. Even my mouth felt a little furry.

I grabbed some tissues and wiped away the black circles from around my eyes, found a hair brush and detangled the nest on my head, and hunted for a spare toothbrush. I couldn’t find one and finally did something I wouldn’t normally do, I used Dante’s.

Once I was done, and feeling decidedly better than I’d felt moments earlier, I filled the glass for Dante again, popped out two more tablets for him, and walked back into his bedroom.

He was on his side, the bedding a tangled mess over his hips. I wished he would come out of this soon. He needed to shower, and the bedding was due for a change since he’d been sweating into it for who knows how long.

“Dante.” I shook him gently. “I need you to take these.” I gave him another gentle shake.

He mumbled something under his breath, and opened his eyes, but I could see he was unfocused, his stare glassy. Still, despite that, I was able to encourage him to open his mouth, and with a bit of coaxing, he swallowed the tablets, before collapsing back on the bed, totally exhausted.

I returned the glass to the bathroom before going back to Dante. He looked surprisingly vulnerable for such a huge man, and unable to stop myself, I reached out, and brushed his sweat dampened hair, back from his forehead.

He turned into my touch as he’d done last night, and began to mumble in his sleep. I had no idea what he was saying as it seemed to be in Italian, but I did pick up the word, ‘cara’ a couple of times and even my name.

God I wished I could understand him. I was also dying of curiosity, as to why he seemed so drawn to me. It really did seem that he knew me far better than I knew him, but how? We’d never spoken; I’d remember someone like him.

I dropped to my knees by the bed, and gently brushed my fingertips from side to side over his forehead. This close to him, I could see all those little things, I’d missed that night, when he and Alex had come to fulfil my fantasy.

For starters, he had incredibly long lashes. They were long, thick and black. With his eyes closed, they fanned out and rested high on his cheeks.

He had a perfect shaped nose; straight, no ridges, no bumps, just, perfect. My gaze shifted to his lips and I had to bite one of mine to suppress a moan. God, they were perfect, if the word could be used to describe lips. The top one was a beautiful shape and the bottom one was full, kissable, biteable; just perfect. It seemed I was finding everything about this man to be perfect.

Chapter Eleven

When Dante suddenly rolled over onto his back, and those perfect lips parted, I froze, wondering if he was about to wake and catch me kneeling by his bed. He didn’t fortunately, and I released the breath I hadn’t been aware, I was holding.

He suddenly thrashed violently, and I fell back on my heels, to avoid being hit by his flailing arms and legs. He settled again fairly quickly, but the sheet, that had been hanging on, by a wing and a prayer, was no longer covering him, and I could see everything.

I’m sure my bottom jaw hit the carpet as I stared at him. I’d seen him naked of course. I’d seen him fully erect too, obviously, but seeing him flaccid, and still THAT big took me by surprise.

Was there nothing on this man that was small?

I took advantage of him being out of it, and me being nice and close, to study the piercing. Seeing it this close, made me wince slightly at the sight of it. It must have hurt like a mother fucker, getting it done. He had a fairly large metal bar straight through the head of his dick, with a ball, at each end. One was on the top and one on the underside of him.

I’m sure he would have known what the sexual benefits were going to be, before he got the piercing done, because I couldn’t see any way, he’d have put himself through that kind of pain, if he wasn’t going to gain something from it.

I reached out, I knew it was wrong, I shouldn’t be touching him. It felt almost like I was taking advantage of him, but I couldn’t help myself.

I placed a fingertip just below one of his nipples, and began to move it south, watching as it rose and fell over each muscle of his abdominals. I even traced over his classic ‘V’ before stopping just above his cock.

Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I tentatively dragged a fingernail down it, and over one of the metal balls. Unable to control my wayward finger, I worked my way back up his cock and this time on the return, I even dipped into that little hole on the tip of the head.

Although he didn’t show any really obvious reaction to my touch, I was surprised when I saw some slight stirring of his dick. Seeing it lengthening slightly, I panicked, snatching my hand away. What the fuck was I doing? The man was sick. Why would I try and arouse him while he was ill? It’s not like he was going to jump up, throw me on the bed, and have his way with me. ‘You wish.’ That little voice inside me mocked.

I dragged myself off the floor, and wondered what the hell I was going to do. I couldn’t leave Dante alone, but I needed to call Mel and tell her what happened. A part of me was curious to find out how her evening had gone too. Had Alex stayed the night with her, and if he did, did he blow her socks off her feet like he’d done to me?

A glance at the clock, showed it was only eight o’clock. I wouldn’t ring her yet. If Alex had stayed with her, she’d more than likely still be sleeping.

I could get myself some breakfast and then think about calling her. That’s if Dante had anything in the house to eat.

After gently pulling the sheet over him again, so I wouldn’t be distracted by that body of his, which only made me feel like some kind of pervert for ogling a sick man, I left the room, and headed for the kitchen.

After going through all his cupboards, I found some cereal and milk that wasn’t dying in the fridge. Most men I knew seemed to like to have a carton of milk, sitting in the fridge that was always past its use by date.

While I ate, I continued to snoop. They say you can learn a lot about a person, by the food they have in their fridge and cupboards. Well, I wasn’t sure what to make of Dante’s. There were a lot of protein shakes, and I’m talking A LOT. There were a lot of eggs too, so the man obviously loved his eggs.

The freezer had a few steaks in it, and fish but not much else. The fridge had a lot of fruit, so the man was a health freak. I shouldn’t be surprised though. That body of his didn’t come, from eating take away food and donuts.

When I’d finished eating, I rinsed out the bowl and stacked it in the dishwasher, before heading back to check on Dante.

I found him still sleeping, and this time, he seemed more settled. He was cool when I placed my hand on his brow, so the Aspirin were definitely doing their job.

Since he looked like he was finally resting peacefully, I thought I would go and have a quick shower. I’d been glued to him for half the night and he’d sweated all over me.

I wished he was well enough to get up and shower, but maybe I could give him a sponge bath, if he didn’t start feeling stronger, soon.

I found another t-shirt of his, this one a bit bigger. I really wished I had fresh underwear to put on, but since I could never have predicted, I’d end up in Dante’s home, I hadn’t had reason to pack a spare pair. There was nothing I could do. I either put my dirty panties back on, or I went without them all together. Well, Dante wasn’t in any position to take advantage of me being half naked, so it looked like it was going to be commando for me today.

It felt like I’d only been in the shower a couple of minutes, when I thought I heard something. I stopped and listened, straining to hear over the water and exhaust fan. Nothing, I couldn’t hear anything.

Deciding I must have imagined it, I went back to washing when suddenly I heard what sounded like yelling.

This time, I popped the shower door open so I could hear more clearly and that’s when I heard it; it was a man’s voice, he sounded distressed, it was Dante.

I quickly shut off the taps, leaping out of the shower, and hastily wrapped a towel around my nakedness, before rushing from the bathroom.

When I saw him, my heart took off at the sight. He’d kicked the sheet off again, and was throwing himself violently from side to side. As he tossed and turned, he kept crying out and it frightened me, because he sounded so distressed.

Again, most of what he said was in Italian, but I didn’t need to understand him, to know he was wildly upset by whatever filled his dreams.

Suddenly he half sat up; eyes wide open, but glazed over. “No…no…no…don’t say that…don’t…don’t call me that. I’m…I’m…not…I’m…not. STOP IT!” He cried out even louder, his hands going into his hair, tugging on it, as he began to rock back and forth.

I stared at him in shock. What the hell was going on with him? He sounded like he was reliving something, something terrible. That couldn’t be right. I knew what it was like to be teased and bullied; but a man like this perfect specimen couldn’t possibly have ever been on the receiving end of others cruelty. Could he?

When he cried out again, his head tipping back, his face twisted as if he was in agony, I wondered if I should try and wake him. When I saw tears streaming down his face, I knew I had to wake him. God, what was wrong? What had happened to this beautiful looking man to have him tortured with what I now knew, were nightmares from his past? I knew he was trapped in memories of awful times. I knew this, because what he was experiencing now; was eerily close to the mental torment, I’d suffered once, myself.

My heart contracted to see him hurting, and I reached for him, wrapping my arms around him, calling urgently into his ear, to make him wake up.

At first he seemed to be resisting me, not fighting me exactly, but not responding to my desperate attempts to wake him.

“Dante, wake up, please.” I begged him, as he writhed around, sounds of remembered agony still bursting from his lips.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he began to calm down, and he stopped making noises that ripped my heart in two. I felt him getting heavier against me, and realised he’d drifted off again, still in my arms.

Gently I helped ease him down onto the bed, breathing a sigh of relief when he immediately rolled onto his side, sleeping soundly again.

I climbed off the bed, still damp from my shower, and with a shaky breath, I hurried back to the bathroom, so I could finish showering.

Once I was under the warm water, I began to play out all that had just happened, in my head. What the hell had happened to Dante in his past? The man was stunning, a godlike creature. How could anything bad have ever happened to him?

I squirted some of his shampoo into my hands, recognising the scent from him. It was his smell. I’d just worked it through my hair, when I heard the shower door open up, and suddenly a big, hard, warm body was behind me.

“Mmm, bella signora. What are you doing here Grace?” He sounded husky, sleepy and far too sexy, for a man, who had been battling a raging fever.

“I came to speak to you last night. Mel and I ran into Alex at the club. He was insistent that I come to see you and not call.” I told him. “When you let me in, it was obvious, you were very ill.”

“I let you in? I don’t remember.”

I turned to face him fully. “You don’t remember? You were pretty out of it. I’ve had to give you Aspirin to help break your fever.” I looked up at him, noticing that his colour looked a bit better. He also looked way too sexy, with the water running down over him, and even dripping off his long lashes. Staring at him, I suddenly became aware of the fact I was naked, and I hastily folded my arms across my breasts.

“Shit, I…I have to get out. I’ll leave you to shower.” I opened the shower door and hurried out, hastily throwing a towel around myself, and rushing out of the bathroom. I couldn’t be in there while Dante was showering. Seeing him naked, and looking far too sexy for a sick man, was short circuiting my brain.