Sick Bastard (14 page)

This whole situation couldn’t get any worse.

London

“Holy fuck,” I whisper to myself as soon as the fog of sleep lifts. The heels of my hands find my eyes and try desperately to rub the sleep away. I haven't even opened them and I already feel like I've been run over by a Mac truck, and then backed over and hit again. I feel like road kill.

My eyelids feel like lead and my throat is dry. Don’t even get me started on the grossness going on in my mouth. My body, as a whole, feels like … well, it feels like a Mac truck hit me.

Lying in bed, I listen for Matt, wondering how drunk he got last night. Did man candy come home with him? Oh hell, they better not have had sex in my kitchen again.

I can’t lay here forever, even though I’d love nothing more. I move to sit up but my head spins and my stomach rolls. I'm
never
drinking again. I recall telling myself that the last time I drank and look at me now. I should really listen to myself more often.

Once the spinning subsides, I pry my eyes open only to stare directly into blinding light. Jesus, it's deliriously fucking bright in here. Rays of sunshine shoot through the windows and assault my aching eyes. I make a mental note to get darker curtains. It takes me a good three minutes to fully open them, but it's not without a lot of effort.

Wait a minute … Where the fuck? Oh no. Taking in my unfamiliar surroundings, last night comes crashing down on me hard and it brings my headache screaming back. Drinks, Dante, drinks at the party, Perry, and more drinks. What a fucking mess. Dancing with Dante is the last thing I remember. Stupid fucking London. You let your stalker take you home, I chastise myself.

What the fuck did I do last night? Holy hell, did I have sex with him and not even remember it? I would remember that. I think I would, anyways. God, I hope I’d remember that. With the way he touched me while we were dancing I would want to remember.

I need some answers, some coffee, and some strong coma inducing medication. But what I really need to do is get the fuck out of here.

Standing at the foot of the bed, I take in his room. It's nothing like I would’ve expected. The room is actually nice and calming with the bed in the center of the room, and all the colors are in whites, browns, and creams. It's peaceful and inviting. Nothing scary and nothing creepy. He probably has his scary shit in a dark basement with his whips, chains, and torture devices.

I make it up and tip toe to the door. I peek my head out the bedroom, “Mr. Marx? Dante?” I call quietly. I listen but get nothing in return. Where could he be? I look back into the room for some idea. Did he just leave me here?

Looking back in the room, I find a clock. It’s nine am. I also find my dress folded and laid neatly over a chair. Why are my shoes muddy? They both look sad and the dress is in need of a good dry cleaning. Picking up my dress, I see some splatters of mud on the bottom. Great. I’ll have to do the walk of shame in a dirty dress and muddy shoes. Fabulous.

Looking down at myself and back at the dress, I figure fuck it. I find a closet and boom, tons of button up dress shirts, all smelling like Dante. At least I now know I didn’t leave with some random stranger. Thank God for small miracles. I grab the first one closest off the hanger and put it on. I’m sure I wouldn’t be the first half-naked chick Dante will see in his lifetime. In fact, I’m sure of it.

I walk into the hallway, peeking around corners. I find a long hall to my right with a few closed doors and to the left, it opens to what I’m guessing is the living room or kitchen.

I try staying quiet while I wander down the hall in my bare feet. I have no clue where Dante is or where I'm going in general. The living room and kitchen can't be that hard to find, right?

Rounding the corner, I find what I’m looking for and it's massive. I'm sensing a theme here―everything large and over the top with Mr. Personalities. Everything with this man is excessive.?

I thought I had a big living room, but mine doesn't compare to his. His is huge. Two large, soft gray suede couches face each other, and between them sits a large coffee table in dark distressed wood. Okay, I need to focus. Coffee is the only thing I should be looking for.

The dining room is the next room over and opens into the kitchen. Damn, this man has amazing taste. His clothes and his home are impressive. He has every conceivable appliance, except a coffee pot. No coffeepot, but I find a Keurig with the most amazing little cups of coffee in them.

I walk over to it and get it ready, and now all I need is a cup. I open the first cabinet and voilà. It’s starting off to be a good day, minus the hangover shit. I make my coffee, add some milk from the fridge and I’m in coffee heaven. I sit at the table, drinking it ‘til I’m finished and put the cup into the sink. It’s time to go hunt down Dante and get the hell out of here.

Walking back into the living room, I find him. Well that was easy. There he is, asleep on the couch that faces away from the hall. Walking a little closer, I peek over it at him. He is a sight.

I got a tiny glimpse of it last night, but his hard, menacing face looks so relaxed and peaceful. He looks
normal
. His lips are parted slightly and his eyelashes leave shadows on his cheeks. A long arm is thrown carelessly over his head while the other is draped off the side of the couch. He looks beautiful and handsome. He also looks uncomfortable. His body is too long and muscular to be squished into the couch. Why the fuck didn’t he lay on one of those big ass suede couches?

On one shoulder and over to his back I see a black wing. It almost looks like feathers wrapping around to his shoulder and up to his neck. Shifting, he moves and the couch creeks in the silent room and I damn near have a heart attack.

As much as I’d love to stand here all morning and into the early afternoon staring at him, I’ve got to find a bathroom. With a final look, I leave him be and wander my ass back to his room to get to the bathroom.

Just like the rest of his home, the bathroom is large and opulent. What really draws my eyes, besides the toilet, is the beautiful oval claw foot tub in the middle of the room. It’s calling to me, begging me to get in.

I'll gladly give the tub what it wants. Who am I to deny it? I’m hung over and grubby, so I could use a good soak. Dante won’t mind. Hell, he’s still sleeping anyways. I need him awake to get me out of here so this will kill some time.

I can’t imagine a man like Dante taking baths. He’s a shower man all the way. I’m only showing this beautiful tub the love it deserves. I do my thing and run the water, letting the beautiful tub fill up.

Sinking into the hot water, I shutter and damn near groan. It’s deep, long, wide, and the rounded sides make for a perfect place to rest your head and feet. I think I just found a little slice of heaven here on Earth.

~~~~~~

I stay in the tub so long that I’m starting to wrinkle, and I’m pretty sure I nodded off a few times. My headache has turned into a dull throb and my need for more coffee has marginally subsided. I’m relaxed until I feel the air shift. The skin on the back of my neck prickles and my heart begins to hammer in my chest.

Whipping my head around, there stands Dante, only a foot behind me. He’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and an eyebrow quirked up. “Fuck, Dante! How long have you been there?” I shout.

“Have you always had such a dirty mouth?” He retorts, giving me a wicked glare.

“Have you always been so fucking creepy?” I fire back immediately. My question makes him laugh. That wasn’t meant to be a joke.

Shrugging a shoulder, he answers, “Since meeting you, yes. And fifteen minutes.” He’s been watching me since I got in? Now he’s just a pervert.

“You’ve been watching me for fifteen minutes?” He simply nods. “Jerk. You’ve gone from stalker to pervert. Congratulations.”

“I’m not going to disagree there.”

“Why are you watching me?”

“Why not? And
why
can’t you ever just answer a question with an answer?”

“Don’t have a good answer for your there, but why on earth wouldn’t I watch you? I have a hot, naked woman in my bathtub and I’m a man. What else would I be doing?” Fair enough.

“So why not knock or something?”

“It’s my bathroom, is it not? I didn’t know I had to knock to come into my own bathroom.” Asshole.

“Well when someone you’re not sleeping with is in here, you do.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Walking further into the bathroom, he casually leans himself against the counter. His hair is a mess this morning in that mad scientist style and he needs a good shave. He looks disheveled, messy, and sexy. Legs crossed at the ankles, he starts twisting that watch while he looks at me. Around and around it goes, but he looks relaxed instead of nervous, so I won’t complain about the watch bullshit.

“I can see your tits, London.” His deep voice informs me, catching me off guard. Looking down, I can see them just below the water. Taking a page from his book, I go with uncaring.

“I’m sure you got an eyeful during the fifteen minutes you stared at me in here so what should I do, hide ‘em?”

“No, don’t hide them from me, but damn, I’m thinking of a lot of things I’d love to do you’re your tits.”

“Good.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Good? Why would you say that’s good?”

“It’s payback.” Now he really looks confused. This is kind of fun.

“Payback?” Again I play from his playbook, a question for a question.

“Are you gonna keep repeating everything I say?” He rolls his eyes and I almost jump for joy. I got to him so I win this round, but really, that was too easy. For such a hard man, he sure breaks easily.

“London,” He mutters impatiently. Fine.

“For our dance last night, remember? You were touching me, licking me, and kissing me, so this is payback. It’s a bitch, I hear.” He laughs, and it’s a deep, genuine laugh.

“Baby, I’ll pay up and then some. I’m not in the business of leaving beautiful women hanging.” I’m sure he’s not.

This is kind of exciting. A little dirty flirting while naked is a turn on, so why not have a little fun. “Promise?” Licking his bottom lip he nods once.

“I promise.”

A loud voice startles us both.

“Boss?” A man calls from the bedroom, and the bathroom door is wide open. Oh shit. “Boss?” The voice repeats.

“Put a foot in this bathroom and I’ll blow that motherfucker off, do you hear me?” Dante growls as he heads to the door.

“Ah, I see. You got a bitch in there, don’t’ ya.” The voice teases.

“Out.” Dante looks thoroughly pissed.

“Alright,
Capo
.” A different voice says. Fuck, how many are out there? Looking back at me, Dante’s face softens.

“I set something for you to wear on the bed. Let me get these dipshits downstairs. I’ll only be a few minute.” As he turns to leave, I do something I shouldn’t do. I say something that I know I’ll regret in the near future.

“Dante?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m holding you to that promise.” I hear him growl in frustration before the door closes a little too hard against the frame. Now I can’t help but laugh.

~~~~~~

I look like I stepped right out of rap video. I’m wearing way too big baggy sweats and a white tee. Dante’s stuff is about three sizes too big, but it’s comfy and smells like him. I’ve wrapped my wet hair into a messy bun on the top of my head since I have no hairbrush. I’m as ready as I’m gonna be.

Five pairs of eyes swing in my direction as soon as I set one bare foot into the kitchen. I know only one of them, and that’s Dante. The other four are men of varying ages who continue to stare at me.

“Holy shit,” one mutters, catching a smack to the back of the head. Another man openly gapes at me with his mouth opening and closing, reminding me of my old goldfish. It’s name was Shiny because it was. One grins like the joker and the other is busy stuffing food into his face.

“Who’s she, Boss?” The goldfish asks. Dante seems a bit smug.

“London, come here.” I don’t know why, but I do as he says.

“London, these are some of my employees. Meet Vinn, Rocco, Geo, and Pete. Boys, this is my London. Say hello and be respectful or I’ll kick your asses.” They all say their hello’s at the same time, and I wave and say hello back.

“Alright boys, you gotta go. Handle business in a timely manner and for fucks sake, don’t make a mess of it.”

The guys all get up and walk out the kitchen door. The tension in the room skyrockets the second the front door latches closed. Shit. Standing by the kitchen island, I glance up at Dante who is, as usual, staring holes through me from the other side of the room. “Yes?” I inquire, but I know what he wants.

“Are you looking to cash in on that promise now?” He asks softly. His eyes are dark and intimidating when he licks his lips. Yes! Hell yes!

“No.” I scoff in a lame attempt to seem uninterested, but I’m very interested.

Shaking his head slowly in mild amusement, he tsks me. “London, you’re a terrible liar. I think you do want me to fuck you, and I think you want me to do it now.” Oh I do, but I’m not letting him know that.