“I say it because it’s true,” I snarl. “Get used to hearing the word perfect, because I’m never going to get tired of saying it. Before I saw you, Dreamer, I didn’t even know perfection could exist. You changed that very fucking quickly.”
She lets out a hot high-pitched breath, flooding me with an almost overwhelming compulsion to grab onto her thighs again and watch as they turn lust-red from my touch.
“I keep wanting to say I can’t believe this is happening, you know?” she murmurs. “But then I tell myself to stop thinking like that. This is happening. This is real. And I need to accept that.”
“This is very real,” I growl, leaning down to bring my lips close to hers.
I hold us in that position, our faces pressed close together, her lips brushing over mine and mine doing the same to hers.
We’re on the edge of kissing but we’re on the precipice of so much more too, of a life lived brightly together, of a future carved in an image we both want, we both need… because something deep inside of us calls out the same thing.
“We were made for each other,” I whisper, sliding my hands up her shoulders and framing her face in my hands.
She feels so delicate in my massive hands, so needing of my protection, and fierce flames flicker through me when I think about someone trying to hurt her.
“I feel the same,” she whispers. “I never knew it was even possible to feel like this so quickly, but I guess you’ve done the impossible.”
I claim her lips, pushing solidly against her, growling as she whimpers and sinks into the closeness of the kissing. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, moaning as I press her into the seat, leaning down with more and more pressure as the heat of her body sinks into mine.
I’m addicted to the taste of her, the touch of her, the everything of her.
“Oh, God,” she moans, breaking it off. “Dom, you can’t keep kissing me like that.”
“Why?” I growl. “Because it makes you want to do other things, eh?”
She bites my lip, the way she’s done several times now and the way that will never stop driving me crazy. There’s something so captivating in the gesture, it’s like she makes me feel drunk with how she melts for me, how the lust-filled parts of her emerge even despite her nervousness.
“Yes,” she whimpers, letting my lip go. “You know that’s why. Jeez, how was I a virgin yesterday?”
“You’re turning into my personal horny Dreamer, aren’t you? But just for me, Daniella. Only for me.”
“Only for you,” she whispers, saying the words I want to hear when I want to hear them, and how I want to hear them because we were made for each other and she knows how much this means to me.
I’m about to reply when the limo comes to a stop.
I glance out the window.
We’re not at the restaurant. To the left – my side – there’s an alleyway, quiet at this time of the evening, and to the right, there’s the road, the traffic light.
I reach over to the door and press the comms button so I can talk to the driver. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” he replies. “A car is blocking the road. I’ll have to go around…”
“Fuck,” I growl, shaking my head and taking out my cell phone.
“What’s wrong?” Daniella says anxiously.
“Maybe nothing. Or maybe the Italians left that car there on purpose.”
“But how would they know…”
“We’re only a few streets over from the restaurant, and it’s my restaurant. Maybe they guessed where I was taking you and decided to spring this trap. Or maybe I’m panicking for nothing. It’s better to be on the safe side, though—”
I flinch and let out a growl when the gunshots pound into the car, slapping against the window and the door.
Daniella screams and flinches back, reaching for the door handle in her panic.
I dart my hand out and grab her shoulders, firmly sitting her down, staring at her with the beast emerging from my eyes, but not the beast she’s used to seeing. This is the beast who will do anything to protect our family, even if it comes to blood.
“This car can withstand anything they throw at us,” I tell her firmly. “All we can do is wait until backup arrives.”
The gunfire stops and Daniella lets out a trembling breath, stiffening her lip as she stares up at me, nodding shortly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “That was so dumb.”
“Hush,” I whisper, leaning down and placing a warm kiss on her cheek. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You shouldn’t be in this situation. I wanted to take you on a date so badly, but I should’ve waited.”
I press a few buttons on my cell phone, dialing Kesha.