Tempt (Dark Odyssey Club Fantasies 2)

I shuffle against silky sheets and the scent of him.

Dante.

It’s his aftershave. I remember the first time I smelt it, or rather the first time I had a memory of the scent.

I was ten years old. Dante came to my birthday party and gave me a hug when he arrived.

I remember being among all the girls and feeling so grown up when he walked into the room and just hugged me. He would have been twenty-nine then.

All the girls were so jealous because he was so handsome and cool. That was probably the first time I realized my crush was real. It was also the first time I realized that I wasn’t going to feel the way he made me feel about anybody else.

Memories of last night filte

r into my mind.

Memories of how we spent the night together. I lost count of how much times we had sex after the sixth time. I didn’t know people could be so into each other that they could just keep going like that. we did though. We just kept going and going then I closed my eyes for one second and must have drifted off to sleep.

I slide my hands over the sheet and my breath stills when my hands come away with nothing.

I sit up, and see him sitting by the window watching me.

We’re in a suite at The Dark Odyssey. I’ve never stayed overnight before. I’ve been with many wealthy billionaires who wanted to do all sorts of things to me and have fun, but I’ve never been here with a man I had a real fantasy with. A man who is like a living fantasy to me.

He’s shirtless and just wearing his boxers. I stare and I look at the masterpiece he is. He has a body made of steel with sleek defined muscle enhanced with his tattoos. He has Celtic swirls and symbols. Everything about him is mouthwateringly gorgeous.

“Hi,” he says breaking the moment of silence.

“Hi,” I answer.

There’s a tentative expression on his face and I know it means he’s not sure about what we’re supposed to do next.

I wrap the sheet around me and make my way over to him. Heat streaks through my body when he reaches for me and pulls me into his lap.

He sighs and searches my eyes as if he’s trying to find the right words to say to me.

“How can you look more beautiful every time I see you?” he asks.

“Dante, I think I look like I just emerged from the stone age.” My damn hair must be a mess and a half. I won’t even try to run my fingers through it.

“You look beautiful, you always do.”

I cup his beard and love the specks of gray in it and the edges of his temples. “You look beautiful too.” I smile.

“Me? This old guy?”

I roll my eyes at him. “Oh please, you know you aren’t old.”

“I’m older than you.” He searches my eyes.

“So?”

“Rachel, I’m much older than you. I’m twenty years older than you.”

“So?” I repeat with a little smile.

He sighs then his face softens. “Rachel…why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me how you felt about me?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t want to cross the line and ruin everything, or risk never seeing you again, or something.”