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Distraction

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Chapter 28: Distraction (Dante's POV)

A sigh of exhaustion escaped me as I swung the bathroom door open and stepped out into my room, rough-drying my hair with a towel before tossing that in the hamper behind me. As I grabbed a t-shirt out of my closet and tugged it over my head, I heard the doorbell ring.

Today had been a rather demanding day, but in this city and this profession, that wasn't unusual. This morning, I had to run out of Anastasia's apartment when an old client reached out, asking for help.

It wasn't a huge task, and the client had been loyal to me for the past few years, so I did the job without asking too many questions and secured my paycheck.

I'd gone to The Veil afterward to see Tristan since he was back from the trip he and Amara had taken. Since Kai invited himself to join us, I had plenty of company.

I didn't see Anastasia much or at all today. Neither one of us went to work, but we had our own things to do. I knew she would be at dinner with her parents tonight. Her reaction to that invitation left me slightly perplexed.

On the surface, I only knew a few things about her father since he often supervised cases and was involved with the FBI, being one of its largest investors and having a lot of connections with the government.

Something didn't sit right with me when she mentioned her family dinner. She seemed uneasy about it, almost reluctant to go. Anastasia's past had always intrigued me, but she respected my privacy enough to never question my history, so the least I could do was return the favor.

But at times like this, when something seemed to be bothering her, and I couldn't do anything to help, I realized just how little we truly knew each other. I knew Anastasia's body and mind like the back of my hand after being with her and working with her for years, but I knew nothing about her heart.

She was so hard to read, I could never know what she was thinking or feeling.

When my doorbell rang for a second time, I headed downstairs and to the front door. I wasn't anticipating anyone's arrival, but I certainly didn't expect hers. As I swung the door open and my eyes met hers, a charged beat passed between us. "What are you doing here?" I questioned, observing her.

At first glance, she looked as put together and elegant as she always did. Her hair fell over her shoulders and cascaded down her back in loose waves with a black velvet hairband sitting up top, while a black full-sleeve top hugged her tight. The golden buckle of her black leather belt went around her waist, separating her top from the black maxi skirt that stopped just above her stilettos.

She looked... perfect. Almost too perfect.

I would have missed the redness rimming her eyes if I hadn't looked hard enough or the way the tip of her nose had turned a little pink, along with the flush in her cheeks.

She let out a deep breath. "Dinner ended early," she simply said with a slight scratch to her voice. "And I didn't want to go home."

I glanced at her up and down one more time, trying to read her body language, but she stood there completely rigid. Her shoulders were lined with tension, her face had tear stains coating her cheeks that were still shiny and damp. I had so many questions itching to crawl up my throat, but I bit my tongue.

"I had nowhere else to go," she whispered, staring at the ground. She had been crying. I didn't think she was trying to hide it, but I could tell she wasn't expecting me to ask about it.

I nodded once in understanding as I held her gaze. "Come here."

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around her purse until her knuckles turned white. It took her a second before she finally stepped inside, stopping just an inch away from me. A shaky breath escaped her as she lifted her glassy eyes to mine.

I opened my mouth to reassure her, to tell her that I wouldn't ask questions, that she didn't have to keep herself wrapped up so tightly around me, but before I could even utter a word, she collapsed into me, her purse falling to the ground as she looped both arms around my waist and dropped her cheek against my chest.

Something was so incredibly wrong...

I hesitated for a minute, not knowing what she wanted or needed from me, but trusting my instincts, I put an arm around her as I pushed the door shut behind her, and lifted my other hand, resting it on the back of her head.

Several minutes seemed to have passed with us standing there like that. A pit of dread began pooling in my stomach from not knowing how to respond. "Anastasia," I said, pulling back just enough to look at her. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head lightly.

I bit down a defeated sigh. "No? You don't want to talk about it?"

"No," she answered.

"Tell me," I said, tilting her chin up, "what do you want from me tonight?"

After a minute, she replied, "A distraction." Before I could even get a word in, she was pushing up on her toes to kiss me, placing a hand at the nape of my neck and pulling me in. With another hand firmly planted on my chest, she steered me into the living room, where she pushed me down on the couch and straddled me.

In all the years of knowing her, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd said no to Anastasia. But the idea of becoming her distraction, just someone she needed and used to take her mind off of whatever was truly bothering her... it left a sour taste in my mouth, and I couldn't understand why.

After all, that's what we had been doing so far; distracting each other from everything. From the chaos and frustration that bubbled up within us at work, from thoughts that haunted us to the point where we would rather use each other than be left alone with ourselves.

But that was the deal. We agreed that this was purely physical, and that was all it ever could be. That was all we allowed ourselves.

Drowning out every thought that plagued me, I allowed myself to take hold of her hips while I felt her hands slip beneath the hem of my shirt.

Her palms were cold against my warm skin, but I didn't stop her as she began gliding them upward, slowly lifting my shirt until she had no choice but to break the kiss and tug it over my head. "Upstairs," she whispered into the kiss, "can we go upstairs?"

"Is that what you want?" I asked in between kisses along her jaw.

Resting her arms around my neck, she nodded slowly, a quiet moan slipping out of her as my teeth grazed her skin.

Without asking anything else, I drew her legs around me as I stood up and made my way upstairs, trying to ignore the number she did on me with those kisses she was trailing down my neck and her fingers in my hair.

Anastasia had been to my apartment several times, of course, both in the past and present. But the majority of our nights were spent in her apartment because while I had no problem spending my nights there, Anastasia wasn't the same. She always seemed to find an excuse to pack up and leave before she dozed off.

I'd always suspected that she got away to stop herself from snooping around my room or asking me questions she thought I wouldn't want to answer. The curiosity killed me just as much as it did her. I wanted to know her, everything about her.

I set her on her feet at the foot of the bed and began lifting her shirt, my fingers grazing every inch of her skin as I did. Her arms slowly came back down as I dropped her shirt, and as they did, I took her hands in mine, trailing my fingers down her arms and along her sides as my lips fell to her collarbone, kissing my way down her chest, then her stomach while I dropped to my knees.

With a kiss on her hip, I slid her belt down, then unzipped her skirt and let it drop. I left another kiss on her hip, then her thigh. Her breath hitched as she dropped to the bed while I took her by the back of her knees, drawing her forward. With her chest rising and falling and her breaths heavy, she stared at me.

I paused as we stared at each other for several beats. "Are you okay?" I whispered.

She took one breath, then another, then answered, "No."

I pushed up on my knees and inched closer to her. "Can I make it any better?"

She nodded slowly and leaned in, kissing me slowly. Her red lipstick was slightly smudged by the time we pulled away, and I quickly wiped the corner of her mouth with the pad of my thumb.

It wasn't until I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties that she quickly caught my wrists. "Dante."

I held her gaze for a minute before sighing softly and withdrawing my hands, resting them on her waist. "It's okay, Anastasia."

"No, I'm sorry, I—"

"It's okay to change your mind, it's more than okay to tell me no."

"But I'm the one who came here, I'm the one who asked you for it. I—"

"It's also okay if you don't want to go home," I said quietly, "it's okay if all you want to do is stay."

She hesitated, "Even if that's not part of our deal?"

"Even if that's not part of our deal," I confirmed. "Is it okay if I still kiss you?" I asked, pulling her closer.

"It's more than okay," she whispered, her arms going around my neck as my lips met hers in a kiss that was softer than any other kiss we'd ever shared. A minute or two must have passed by the time we pulled away, both of us a little breathless. "Did you just shower?" she asked, leaving a kiss on my neck.

"I can do it again if you want," I mumbled, earning a laugh from her.

"Maybe a bath," she whispered, her lips grazing my ear.

I nodded in agreement before giving her a minute while I went to fill up the bathtub, pausing at the sink to steady myself.

God, what was she doing to me? My thoughts had never felt so scattered, and for the first time, I couldn't understand why I wanted her in a way that was so maddening or what I really wanted from her.

What if... I don't want anything from her at all? What if... all I want is her?

My hold on the counter eased up as I met her gaze through the mirror as she walked in, stopping behind me. Sliding her hairband off, she dropped it on the counter.

When she stepped back again, I could hardly see her unless she pushed up on her toes to peek over my shoulder; my body shielded hers completely when she stood behind me.

My eyes dropped to the red lipstick stains scattered across my neck just as I felt her lips over one of the scars on my back... then another... and then one more. She already had my head spinning before she started kissing the scars on my back. Gripping the counter, I struggled to hold myself together before her.

Something about Anastasia compelled me to let my guard down. She made me want to be vulnerable for her and only for her.

Inhaling sharply, I spun around and pulled her flush against me. "Anastasia," I warned.

She blinked, staring up at me. "I thought you liked it when I kissed your scars," she whispered.

I do, fuck, I do.

Something about the way Anastasia regarded them made me feel like they were rewards, not scars. I felt lucky to have them just because she was there to kiss them and touch them the way she did. It was crazy how she changed the way I felt about them, about myself.

No one else had ever appreciated the scars on my body, only insulted them.

"Don't you like it?" she asked, drowning out the voice of the flowing water.

"I do," I admitted.

Perhaps a little too much.

"Good," she mumbled, "I like them."

"You like my scars?"

"Every one of them," she nodded. As she moved away and discarded whatever was left of her clothes, I glanced at the mirror over my shoulder and found the same red lipstick stains covering almost every single scar on my back.

Dozens of them, all covered in Anastasia's kisses.

Fuck, what is she doing to me?

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Chapter 28

Ik I disappeared for a couple of days again, but I had a bit more uni paperwork to sort out and a lot of medical examinations in the past two days.

Istg, I've had three needles stuck in my arm in the past 48 hours, and I'm in so much pain 😭😭

But I'm still trying to update, so don't forget to comment

next ch: revenge