Dial a Stud: Dante's Story (39 page)

Tonight was our last night together, and I wanted it to be a night to remember. A night I would never forget.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mel’s voice interrupted my blatant drool fest over Dante. “God woman, close your mouth, and wipe up the drool, it’s about to drip off your chin.”

My head snapped around at her words, and I lifted a hand to brush at my chin. There was nothing, no drool. I frowned at my friend.

“Bitch.” I said, shooting her a grin. “Don’t make this seem like a one sided affair. You’ve been watching Alex too. I’ve seen you.”

“Well he’s worth looking at.” She argued, before taking another sip of her wine.

“They both are.” I turned to watch Dante again, and my heart felt like it was being squeezed, when he looked over and caught me staring at him, giving me a slow, sexy wink. I wasn’t a religious person, but as I looked into his beautiful brown eyes, for that brief moment, before his focus shifted back, to the game with Alex, I suddenly felt the need to pray for the strength, it was going to take, to walk away from this man, and not turn back.

Suddenly needing a distraction, I turned and grabbed the wine bottle, hastily refilling my glass. Mel thrust hers at me so I topped her up too, before swallowing a large mouthful straight down. My haste to appear normal; only resulted in the wine going down the wrong way, causing a coughing fit, which drew the attention of both men.

I could see Dante was about to come over, so I smiled through the tears in my eyes, to show him I was fine, waving to him as a sign of reassurance.

“Are you throwing in the towel on this game King D?” Alex asked and I winced. King D was the name he’d given Dante, once he’d seen just how grand the vineyard was, and had developed a better understanding of his wealth.

“Certainly not.” He turned from me, walking back to the pool table, leaving me to breathe a sigh of relief, while I pulled myself together again, after inhaling my wine, rather than drinking it.

Mel started talking to me about work, and that was a much welcomed distraction for me. I actually managed to spend the next half hour or so, in discussion with her, over ideas she had for a new client we were both working with.

I tossed around a few ideas, but given I was in the midst of a nice alcoholic buzz, I wasn’t sure if I was giving her anything, that was actually helpful.

Eventually, cheering from the pool table drew our attention. Mel and I looked at the men, before turning to each other, and rolling our eyes. Obviously Alex had won, not by much, if Dante’s protests were any indication, and he was happily ribbing him about it, and calling him a pussy.

When the silly behaviour had settled down a little, the men joined us, Dante dropping down by my side, while Alex flopped alongside of Mel, stretching out, and lying with his head on her lap.

Mel and I continued to talk for a little longer, but it was too hard with the men now with us, plus Alex, kept fiddling with Mel, making her giggle, and constantly distracting her. Eventually, he reached up, and pulled her down to him, whispering something. It must have been bloody good, because she blushed as red as a tomato.

“We’re…umm…we’re…tired.” She finally spat out, and I gave her the most withering look I could muster. Seriously, she was going to try and claim fatigue on this one?

“Of course you are.” I said sarcastically. “Well, you two go…sleep.” I said sweetly.

Mel had the good grace to blush again, but Alex who wasn’t easy to embarrass, merely grinned, winked, and leapt up, dragging my friend to her feet, before tossing her over his shoulder.

“Good night.” She squealed from her upside down position, and we both said goodnight, as we watched her being carried off to their bedroom, in a very cave man like display.

Dante climbed to his feet, standing before me, giving me a wonderful view of his long legs, that bulge that I knew, held a lot more, than just the promise of something great, over his taut abs, to a muscled chest, that was like a work of art.

Through the opening, in his shirt, I could see part of his barbed wire tattoo, but I forced my eyes, onwards and upwards, until I met his brown gaze, that was damn near smouldering at me. Seeing his desire for me, ignited an answering need, so when he held out his hand, I was more than eager, to put mine, in his, and let him pull me to my feet.

He started to walk towards the bedroom, tugging me along with him and I smirked. “No caveman antics from you? No throwing me over your shoulder?”

Dante smiled. “Do you want me to throw you over my shoulder cara?”

“No, I think I can cope with the walk.” I gave him a syrupy sweet smile.

Laughing, he pulled me along after him, down the hallway, to the bedroom we’d been using. As we passed the room Alex and Mel were in, I could hear her giggling, mixed in with the odd shriek, and Alex’s voice, low, saying something, I couldn’t hear.

Dante and I looked at each other, and although we smiled, the heat in his eyes intensified. His strides lengthened, in his haste to get us to the bedroom, forcing me to run a few steps, to keep up with him.

Once we were in the room, very few words were spoken. He gently removed my clothing, before I returned the favour. He kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth, caressing my tongue, as his hands moved over me, awakening my desire.

I too mapped out his body with my hands, my fingers brushing over him, teasing him. My lips trailed over his skin, kissing, nipping, licking him, savouring, every, beautiful inch of him.

When finally we tumbled onto the bed, we made love like it was our last time. For Dante, he probably saw it as an interruption in our relationship, while he stayed on in Italy, and I flew home. For me, it was good bye. I made love to him, like it was the last time, because it was.

We fucked and made love, then made love and fucked, until the wee hours of the morning, until we were finally exhausted, falling asleep in one another’s arms.

It was just before nine o’clock in the evening, when Mel and I finally entered the house, after our long flight home from Italy. The cab had dropped off Alex first, and although he’d wanted my friend to stay with him, she’d refused, choosing to come home with me, instead. Maybe she sensed somehow, that things weren’t right with me. Hell, who was I kidding? Of course she knew something was wrong.

Mel took her bag, but before she headed off to her bedroom, she looked back at me. “Let’s unpack, grab a bottle or two of wine, then you’re going to stop acting like everything is sweet, and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you. I know something is, so don’t deny it. Did you and Dante fight? You’re not breaking up are you?”

I opened my mouth to say something to put her off, but she raised her hands. “You know, don’t; don’t answer that. Let’s unpack first. Don’t even think of putting me off. You’re going to answer me Gracie. I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours. If you’re thinking stupid thoughts, I need to slap you, before you do something, completely stupid.”

I watched her turn and walk off to her room, dragging her bag behind her, and even when she was gone, I still stared towards her doorway, my mind turning over.

Forcing myself to snap out of my mood, I headed for my room, and began the boring process of unpacking. Funny thing about holidays, it was fun packing to go away, not so much fun unpacking, when home again.

It took me about half an hour, to pack away the things that didn’t need washing, and throw all the dirty clothes, in the laundry basket.

Once I was done, I grabbed my phone, and made my way to the kitchen, to get the wine. Mel was already there, handing me a filled glass, before taking the rest of the bottle, and her glass, leaving me, to head off to the living room.

She said nothing as I followed her, nothing as we both sat, nothing as she placed the wine bottle on the coffee table, and nothing until we’d both taken a couple of decent sips, from our respective glasses.

Finally when she sat back, nursing her glass in one hand, as her fingers ran lazily up and down the stem, she turned to me, doing little more than raise her eyebrows at me.

I knew that look. I’d known Mel a long time. I was getting ‘the look,’ the please explain look, the fess up, and tell me what the hell is going on look.

I knew I could mess around all night, going in circles and evading her questions, or I could open up. Evading sounded too exhausting. The truth was, no matter how much she told me off, slapped me around the ears; I needed to speak to her, I needed her opinion, it was time to tell her what troubled me, even though my every instinct told me, she’d be pissed off at me.

“I’m breaking it off with Dante.” I said quietly, going straight to the heart of my troubles. This was no time for sugar coating, or beating around the bush.

I heard Mel gasp, and flop back in her seat, before raising her glass to her lips, and taking a large gulp of wine. “What the hell Gracie? Why, why on earth would you talk of doing that? Are you crazy, are you a masochist? Are you a sadist? What the hell would make you say something like that?”

“I’m a masochist and a sadist?” I focused on those two things. “One enjoys pain and the other inflicts it, isn’t that right? How can I be both?”

“Don’t be such a bloody fool.” She snapped. “You know what I mean. You’re in love with him, and he adores you. Anyone can see that. Why the hell would you want to hurt yourself, and destroy him?”

“I…I realised something, when we were at the vineyard.” I began hesitantly. “He’s well off Mel. Like seriously, well off, loaded, rich, obscenely rich, to be exact. How can I compete with that?”

She frowned at me, tapping the edge of her wine glass, as she studied me. “What the hell? What on earth does that have to do with anything? What do you mean; compete with him? This isn’t a competition to see who has the most money.”

“That’s not what I meant exactly. Look at him, you’ve seen him. He’s gorgeous, and sweet, kind, he loves his life in Italy; I can see that. I don’t fit in. He should be with a nice Italian girl. One who will love the life, being married to a man who owns a vineyard.”

“He’s talking about selling it though.” Mel said.

I swallowed a mouthful of wine. “I don’t want him to sell it. He loves it, I can see that. The point is, if he keeps it, will he let others run it, or will he want to move back to Italy?”

“You couldn’t live there, is this, what it’s all about?”

“It’s not living there, that is the problem. It’s beautiful, I loved it there, but, he’s obviously very well respected, and people flock to him. You saw them. He’s constantly got people wanting to see him, speak to him. Women flirt with him, and touch him, I hate it.”

Mel reached over, and placed a hand on mine. “Will you listen to yourself? He loves you, only you. Look at your pasts. Look what you’ve both been through, and survived. He found you, and waited for the right time, to reveal who he was, to you. He loves you; don’t throw that kind of love away. You may never find it again.”

“I don’t think he could be happy with me, long term Mel. Look at him, and look at me.” I waved a hand down myself.

“I’m looking, and I see a beautiful, intelligent woman.” She snorted. “Well, most of the time. Now you’re just being a bloody idiot.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” I muttered into my wine glass, as I took another mouthful.

“Why would you think, you’re not suited, to be with a wealthy man? His money means nothing Grace. When has Dante ever acted like a wealthy man? He doesn’t flaunt it; he’s not flashy and showy with his clothes, jewellery, no over the top expensive car. I don’t get it. I ask you again, why do you think you’re not good enough for him; the man who worships you, why?”

“He’s a gorgeous, sexy man Mel. He’s wealthy, I mean seriously wealthy. If he sells the vineyard, he’s a really, really wealthy man. I’m talking multi-millionaire. Ok, I knew he wasn’t short of a dollar. His home is nice, his car and clothes, plus he owns Dial A Stud, so he had enough money to buy it, but I thought he was only, kind of a bit wealthy, from being a stud, and that he saved enough money, from it, to buy the company. You know, even when he told me about the vineyard, it didn’t register. I guess I thought, quaint little house, in the hills of Italy somewhere, a few grapes, and people crushing them by foot. That’s about the full extent, of how much I thought, of him owning a vineyard.
Then he takes us all there, and it’s a multi-million dollar industry. Huge home, accommodation, olive plantations, acres and acres of grapes, not to mention the wine cellars, the fermentation rooms, its mind blowing.”

“Yes, but I still don’t see why, that’s reason enough to break the man’s heart. He loves you. I bet he’d give it all away, if he had to, to keep you. If you do this, you’re going to throw away, the best thing that ever happened to you. You may never discover love, like you have with Dante, again. Is it seriously worth it?”

“I have to believe so, because, one day, I won’t be fucking good enough, for him.” I cried; my voice breaking. “I’m broken Mel. You know this. Did you see him with those children? He’s going to want kids. He’ll be a wonderful father, I know he will. I can’t give him those children. He deserves to have a woman, who will be everything, he needs. A nice Italian woman, to live the life expected, of one who owns a vineyard, one who will look the part too, and who can give him a family. I’ve been kidding myself, ignoring the truth, that one day, he’s going to want more, need more, need a woman who…who isn’t…barren.”