Dante
I woke to a warm body pressed against mine. I opened my eyes and looked down at the pink-haired woman who’d changed my life within such a short space of time. She was snuggled up against my chest, fast asleep. One of her arms was wrapped around me tight, as though she was scared I’d take off while she slept. It made me smile. The simple gesture speaking volumes.
She loved me.
Just thinking that blew my mind. She fucking loved me. And it felt like the deep I’d die for you kind of love. Or more like, I’d go to jail for you, which she had.
My gaze shifted to her back, to the shank scar marring her pale skin. I ran a finger over the bumpy, jagged scar, wondering who’d done it and why. Was it because of her crime or was it to do with something else? Either way, it hurt knowing she’d been stabbed because of me, the woman a sweetheart.
She snorted softly in her sleep, making me smile, the sound similar to her strange snorting laugh. I brushed her hair back to get a better view of her face. It still got to me how much she resembled Kara—or Kara resembled her, since Clara was older. I must have fallen hard for Clara for her to have created my type. It was almost as though she’d hardwired my brain from a young age, steering me towards women who resembled her, only Beth being the exception to the rule. But Beth could never match up, not to Kara, and definitely not to Clara. Our relationship had been doomed from the start, unlike the one with Clara, because, even after all these years, and with all the obstacles thrown at us, we still ended up together. There had to be something to it, some soul-mate shit that drew us to one another. I grunted, disgusted with myself for even thinking that. Soul-mates, my arse. That shite only existed in Beth’s shitty romance novels, the type I used to relentlessly tease her about, where the dude had a dick the size of a baby’s arm, yet the virgin could still take it. I looked down at my dick, thinking no virgin could take mine unscathed.
Clara stirred, mumbling something in her sleep. She let go of me and flopped onto her back, baring her tits, the sheet only covering her lower half. I ran a finger around one of her pink rosebud nipples, causing it to tighten and my cock to twitch. But instead of sucking the nipple into my mouth, I stayed focused on her face, thinking she could easily pass off as Kara’s older sister.
Clara murmured something else in her sleep, again too garbled to understand. She kicked off the sheet, exposing herself below. My eyes ran down her flat stomach, settling on her pussy. Unable to help myself, I dipped a finger between the crease, playing with her opening. She stirred, murmuring more words, but stayed asleep, the woman hard to wake. I smiled, keen for my mouth to wake her up to a very good morning.
I climbed between her legs, spreading them wider. She moaned my name but didn’t open her eyes.
“Yes?” I asked.
She moved her hips up in answer. Taking it as an invitation, I went to go down on her, but stopped as she lowered a hand to her pussy. My cock twitched again at the sight of her masturbating, what I was seeing so fucking erotic I groaned myself.
She lifted her other hand to her head, gripping onto her hair as she continued to play with herself. I watched open-mouthed, my eyes glued to what she was doing, so fucking turned on that I didn’t know what to do: whether to remove her hand and enter her, or to help her out, licking her below.
“Dante,” she said again. “Please, more, please. I need you.”
“Hell yes,” I said, no longer able to hold back. More than willing to give her what she needed, I removed her hand from her pussy and went down on her.
She cried out, “Simon!”
I instantly jerked my head back, shocked to hear another man’s name on her lips. But instead of looking back at me with guilt, she was thrashing about on the bed. Her eyes were still firmly shut, making me realise she was having a nightmare, not awake like I’d thought. Then no’s fell from her lips, the cries full of distress.
“Clara,” I said, taking hold of her arms. “Wake up.”
She thrashed about some more, seemingly lost in the nightmare.
“Clara!” I repeated. “Wake up!”
She jolted, my words finally getting through to her. Her eyes shot open, sleep and confusion clouding her grey irises. She stared up at me, her breathing ragged, her expression confused. She glanced around the room, then looked back at me. “A nightmare, it was just a nightmare.”
I shook my head, what I saw more than a nightmare. “You yelled no to your ex. What did he do to you?”
She didn’t reply, worrying me more.
“Clara, why were you screaming no at that Simon prick? Did he hurt you? Is that why you jumped at my job without givin’ the rehab notice?”
She opened her mouth, looking like she was struggling to say something, but couldn’t quite get it out, which only fuelled my concern.
“What did he do to make you leave a job that you told me you didn’t wanna lose?” I asked.
“I...” She grimaced. “It was just a dream.”
I shook my head. “That wuz more than a dream. It looked like you were reliving a memory.”
She pushed up onto her elbows. “It was a nightmare. Nothing in my dream really happened.”
“Well, it obviously came from somewhere. You were terrified. What did your ex do to you to make you have a nightmare ’bout him?”
She dropped her gaze. “It was a misunderstanding.”
I took hold of her chin, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Then, say it to my face.”
She pushed my hand away. “It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”
“Didn’t look or sound like it.”
“Just drop it, I have.” She went to get out of bed.
I grabbed her arm. “Clara—”
She yanked free, yelling, “Don’t touch me!”
I jolted at the venom in her voice, the shout coming out of nowhere.
She swore and turned back to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” She leaned forward to kiss me.
I jerked my head back, upset that she wouldn’t tell me what he’d done. Just the thought of that creep doing shit to her, like people had done to me, made me want to hunt the bastard down and tear him to shreds.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she pleaded.
“How am I lookin’ at you?” I asked, my upset growing. “Like Kara used to look at me when I screamed in my sleep?”
She tensed.
I fixed her with a firm stare. “What you just did...” I prodded my chest. “I did to Kara. I didn’t have many nightmares, but when I did, she tried to get me to talk, but I insisted that nuthin’ had happened to me, even though it had. And more than once, different names behind my nightmares.”
Clara shook her head. “You can’t compare what was done to you to what was done to me. You were hurt so much more.”
“So, you admit this prick hurt you?”
“I’m not sure you could say he hurt me. I’m not sure I understand what even happened, whether it was a misunderstanding or...” her words trailed off.
“Or what?”
“I don’t know what to believe. I talk in my sleep, and sometimes sleep walk. I’ve even had a conversation with someone while I was asleep, and they didn’t realise until a few sentences in.”
“I don’t understand what you’re gettin’ at.”
“I’m letting it go, so you should too.”
“I don’t even know what I’m lettin’ go.”
“Simon. He’s in my past. Leave it be.”
I shook my head. “Not until you tell me what happened.” I indicated between us. “I want things to be open and honest. I’ve been told so many lies in the past, by my best mate, my dad, and most recently by one of my exes. We broke up cos of those lies, and she’s dying cos of those lies. I need the truth.”
Clara squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then reopened them. “I had a dream yesterday morning, of you going down on me. I came, thinking of you, shouting out your name. Next thing, I hear another man shout. I opened my eyes, and instead of seeing you down there, I saw Simon. He claims I said yes, which I may have, but not to him, to you.”
“You woke up to find him between your fuckin’ legs?”
“Yes.”
Fury shot through me, stone-cold fucking fury. I pushed off the bed and snatched up my jeans, wanting to fucking kill him.
Clara jumped off the bed and grabbed my arm. “Don’t, Dante, it was a misunderstanding.”
I jerked my arm free. “How the fuck can his face in your pussy while you were sleeping be a fuckin’ misunderstanding?!” I yelled, not having any of her excuses.
“I told you I talk in my sleep. He thought my yeses for you were for him.”
“He still had to start things for this to happen! That’s fuckin’ rape!”
She tightened her grip on me. “It’s not, he didn’t penetrate me.”
“He had his fuckin’ face planted in your fuckin’ pussy! I’ll fuckin’ kill him!”
She started crying. “Don’t do this, please don’t do this,” she said, now trembling. “I’ve only just got you back.”
I went still, the upset and fear in her voice throwing cold water over my anger, cooling down my temper rapidly. I cupped her face. “Nuthin’ is gonna happen to me.”
She pushed my hands away. “Yes, it will!” she shouted, now the one angry. “I’ve just got you back, and you want to kill someone! They will take you from me! You can’t do that to me! You can’t! I spent over three years in jail, a further six years away from you, and you want to make it longer?” She bunched her hands into tight fists, her tears now falling freely. “I can’t go through that hell again, Dante. It drove me insane being away from you. I refuse to do it!”
She turned away from me and brought a hand to her mouth, the sobs coming from her cutting me. I stepped in close and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m sorry,” I said, giving her the comfort I should’ve given her straight away, not raged-filled fury. “I won’t fuck things up.”
She turned in my embrace and stared up at me with hope. “You won’t?”
I nodded, having no intention of fucking anything up. I was going to do shit right for once, get that fucker back for what he’d done to Clara. I just needed to go about it without getting caught.