Quinn
They had ended up just taking Dante and three of the guys who had come in and attacked him in.
All we had wanted was to have one lousy dinner. That was it. All this was not supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to show up, and they weren’t supposed to taunt Dante so much that he got into a fight. The police weren’t meant to get involved either.
It was meant to be a quiet night—and now it was a mess.
I didn’t know what part made me the most upset, the part where our night was ruined, or the part where Dante was in an entire boatload of trouble.
Could this have happened at a worse time? Why were things for Dante just getting shittier and shittier?
I thought this chapter was closed. I thought we had ended this sad story already.
They were her brothers? Yeah right, and I was Hillary fucking Clinton. There wasn’t a chance in hell that they were legit. It didn’t matter now. The damage was already done. Dante was in a fucking holding cell at a police station in Houston. He was in there because he had gotten into a physical altercation with a random pack of goons who were looking for trouble.
In Dante’s defense, he had held his own pretty well against them. He was taller than all of them, but they were all pretty thick, heavyset guys. They didn’t look like a pack of brothers; they looked like hired thugs. If the fight had gone on, who knows what would have happened. Dante was strong, and he was angry. He knew how to fight, but he was outnumbered. Did it matter how good a swordfighter you were when your opponent had a gun?
This wasn’t as bad as being in a foreign country, but it was pretty bad. This kind of thing—physical altercations, or colloquially, fights—meant that you couldn’t control yourself in public and you were a menace. People and establishments became leary of you. Getting into fights was a great way to get yourself banned from places. It was bad enough that Dante raised hell in LA, where he was based, but he had to go fuck up everyone else’s quiet nights around the country.
I could see the stories now.
He was lucky that I was above outing him at a time like this. I knew a lot of people would not be so considerate. Daniel would probably kiss me if I gave him this scoop. He would probably be the only one with it. I wasn’t. Daniel would have to find out about this the same way that the rest of the country was going to.
Because there was going to be a police report filed, the disturbance was probably going to make the local news. It was probably going to make the national news because it was Dante Rock, and it was going to make the sports news for the same reason. The details of the case would come from the police report and whatever bum eyewitness reports people, who were there thought they were qualified to be giving, gave. If there were cameras in the restaurant, footage of the surveillance would make an appearance. People would start rumors and speculate until they finally forgot about it when Dante got into trouble for something else. Because that was just what Dante Rock did. That was what you could count on Dante Rock to do for you. He could give you good basketball, and he could give you good fights. That was it.
I wasn’t saying that because I wanted him to get in trouble. I was saying it because, after this, Dante’s goose was cooked. How long would it take before the league got wind of this? LA was just two hours behind and three and a half hours away by flight.
Who knew what they would do to him?
I didn’t want to think about it because looking at Dante behind bars was different than seeing him react to the other hits he had taken so far. This was legal trouble. Real legal trouble. He could potentially face time in jail for fighting, the restaurant might sue for damages, and the goons might sue just for the hell of it…for the sake of the payout.
Dante had asked me before he was taken away to call his lawyer back in LA. I had his phone because it would have been taken away from him anyway when he was put in holding. I had called his agent because that was the only name in his phone beside his mother and his sister that I knew. I didn’t want to call either of them because I didn’t want them to panic.
This was fine. Everything would be fine.
This was a mess—and things were likely going to go down the toilet, but that was no way to face a problem. I had to think positive because I was probably doing it for both Dante and myself. I had to keep calm because I was no use to him when I was panicking, or crying, or otherwise making myself useless as a partner.
I had made the calls, beginning with an introduction of who I was and the reason they were talking to me and not to Dante. I followed with profuse apologies at calling them this late in the night for this sort of reason. His agent had yelled in disbelief when I told him what was happening. He wasn’t surprised; he was just mad. He told me how to contact Dante’s lawyer, and when I asked whether he could keep the situation to himself, he said he couldn’t. He said that this didn’t just involve Dante, and it would take a number of people to get him out of this mess.
His lawyer, as we spoke, sounded incredibly bored. I didn’t know whether he dealt with this sort of thing often when it came to Dante, or if he just didn’t care what was going to happen, or if he had it all under control and I was the one who was frantic and overreacting.
Whatever the case was, there was still a long time to wait.
It was at least an hour after him being taken into custody before I was able to go and see him. There was black ink on his fingertips. They had booked him. He had a mugshot now. Way to cement that bad boy image.
“Dante,” I said to him, walking over to the cell.
He stood and walked over to the bars when he saw me. This moment was literally like something out of a movie. Dante Rock in a holding cell. Where was my camera when I needed it?
If I wanted… really wanted I could have used my phone, but that was just shitty. That would just be using this situation for my own gain and I didn’t want to do that to Dante. He was in trouble and the buzz something like this could generate was huge, but I couldn’t do it to him. Not for a story, not for anything.
This was a mess.
The interview on Inside the League had been well received by most people, but I guess there were a lot of people who were upset about it, too. The story had died down a little since the team was on the road now, but there was no way we could have anticipated something like this happening.
The guys had said they were the girl's brothers and that… let's just say you get good at spotting lies when you hear them enough and that sounded like a lie. How did they know where to find Dante? It wasn’t a secret that he was in Houston, but since they found him, it had to mean that they were tracking him. We hadn’t been at the hotel where we were staying. That, at the very least, was public knowledge whenever teams came to visit. How was it that they knew that we were not there at the time, and more importantly, where it was that we would be? We had not left any information with guys back at the hotel or at the desk or anything. The whole thing just stank, and I couldn’t help feeling there was something else going on.
“Quinn, have you heard from anyone?” he asked.
“I made the calls, and all they told me was your lawyer would be coming.”
“How long will I have to wait?”
“They didn’t say, but if they are flying in from LA, it might take a while.”
He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.
“What’s going to happen?” he asked me.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell you. I have no idea.”
“Do you think anyone from the restaurant was filming?” he asked.
“Almost certain. You know how people are when fights are about to start. They can’t wait to film it and put it on World Star Hip Hop.”
“How bad to you think this is for my career?” he asked.
“Honestly?”
He nodded.
“I think… I think if there are videos of the fight on the Internet, they will get plenty of traffic because of your name. I think that people who were at the restaurant, or even not at the restaurant will be fighting each other for a chance to give their eyewitness report to every blog out there. Those things, however, I think would be the least of your worries.”
“Tell it to me straight. If you were the manager, what would you do?”
I sighed. “If I was part of the Yellow Jackets’ management, I would be struggling to find a reason why I shouldn’t suspend you for the rest of the season or worse.”
“What is worse?” he asked.
“Kick you off the team.”
“You really think they would?”
“You wouldn’t understand if that was what they felt they had to do?”
Surely he had to. This was not an isolated incident. It had happened as a result of a scandal that we thought we had tackled. Even if it was not the result of a crazy woman, who was apparently so obsessed with Dante she was sending people to kill him, there was no way that the team’s managers could look at this as if it was its own incident. They had to consider the brawls during games, the attacks on fans, the salacious lifestyle, and the suspensions.
“I would get it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“This is really bad, Dante. We both know that you already had strikes against you. If they did send you off the team, the trouble you are in would just follow you, and who knows what team would take you knowing you were a controversial player.”
“What about the woman then, if the guys who came after me were her brothers?”
“I haven’t heard a thing from her since she blew the Internet up with her false accusations,” I said.
“What are you thinking? We need damage control.”
“No… no, I don’t think this is what it seems like. I don’t believe those guys.”
“Why not?”
“The woman was lying. Why would this be true? She's already shown that she has no shame. She doesn’t care what she says about you, true or false. In fact, she probably wants there to be speculation about your character. It would just make the case for her stronger.”
“You think this is all a con?”
“I don’t have any proof, but yeah,” I said, trying to put the pieces together in my head and make sense of them. “I think someone is trying really hard to pull one over on you Dante.”
“So what now?”
I shrugged.
“We have to wait.”
It felt like ages before Dante’s lawyer showed up. There was not just one man, the one I had talked to on the phone, but four. Four times the people we were expecting was a bad and a good thing. On one hand, that was a lot of legal power, on the other, the number of lawyers seemed to be directly proportionate to the amount of trouble Dante was in.
I couldn’t be there while they were talking to him. I could only imagine how much trouble he was in. I felt so sorry for him. He didn’t deserve all this. He had been partly defending me. I shouldn’t have stood up and said anything. I didn’t think the guy would actually put a hand on me, but I had been on the ground before I even knew what the hell had happened.
I saw the men before I saw Dante.
“What happened?” I asked one of them. “What’s going to happen with Dante?”
“Were you the one on the phone?” one of them asked. He had on dark glasses even though we were inside.
“Yeah. I’m Quinn Blaze. Was I talking to you?”
“Yes. Dante… is a very lucky man. This could have gone very wrong for him.”
“So what's going to happen?”
“He had a nice long conversation with his management and he has to miss the rest of the games that they have on the road.”
“How many is that?”
“Four.”
I winced. Another suspension. When was Dante ever going to play again?
“What does he do now?”
The man shrugged.
“Whatever he wants. You’re his…?”
I thought about what the answer to that question was.
“I’m his… we’re friends,” I said.
“How about you keep an eye on him for us. Make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble.”
Could I do that? I didn't know.
What did he mean by that? How was I supposed to watch out for Dante unless we were together?
I hoped that his lawyer didn't think he and I were together. Not that there was anything wrong with that, or because I didn't like Dante. I liked him just fine. I just didn't think that would be a good thing for him and his image.
If anyone from the restaurant was going to open their mouth to blab about what they had seen or thought they had seen Dante Rock doing, they were maybe going to mention that he had been in the restaurant with a woman.
I would be that woman.
I could just see the rumors swirling.
It would be terrible for Dante. There were worse things than being in an alleged relationship, but I didn't want it.
It would just be more shit, and the last thing he needed. I didn't know what the hell he thought he was telling me when he asked me to keep Dante out of trouble. It didn't seem that Dante could stay out of trouble. It was just attracted to him. It followed him wherever he went.
How much influence did he believe that I had over Dante anyway? If Dante was a known rule breaker, what did he think I could say to him to change that? Trouble and Dante Rock were obviously two sides of the same coin. I had basically tethered him to his home, with no alcohol at his disposal or women to distract him and he had still managed to get himself behind bars.
I hoped his lawyer had some advice or something because I was clean out of options. Dante was obviously not someone who interacted with the universe the same way we mere mortals did.
Watching Dante come out, I couldn't help myself. I ran over to him and hugged him. He seemed a little surprised, but he hugged me back. I was so nervous about what would happen. I was happy that he wasn't in worse trouble, but how long before it was game over and he fucked up in a way that his lawyers could not fix for him?
"Are you okay?" I asked him, looking him over. He had light bruising on his face and the back of his right hand, but that seemed to be it.
"I'm fine, Quinn. What about you?"
What about me? Why was he asking, he was the one who had just spent most of the night literally behind bars. Yeah, I was a little tired, but no one had ever died of a little fatigue.
"I'm fine. What did they tell you?"
"The usual speech about how I am an idiot and I am going to do something one of these days that I can't get out of," he said, shrugging.
I wished he wasn't so cavalier about this. I was more worried than he was and he was the one with his entire career on the line.
"Did you talk to your team management?"
"They are the ones who told me I had to miss the rest of the road games. They also said they would release an official statement or whatever and that I was not permitted to say anything about this to anybody."
"What do they think happened?"
"Who cares? I'm benched. Once they want to tell me something, they will. I'm not going to ask them for information."
“What are you going to do now?” I asked him.
“Go home, I guess. They don’t need me here anymore. Wait. What are you going to do?”
“If you aren’t going to be here anymore, I don't have to be. I’m going home, too, I guess… till your suspension is over. If we have to do anything, we can do it from there.”
“Come with me,” he said.
“I am. Your team flew us out here, I suppose they will fly us back out?”
“They won't. They might pay for it, but we can't use the team’s private plane because it will be taking the team to the next stop.”
“That’s fine. I could get a ticket back to LA easy.”
“Don’t worry about it. I could give you a lift back.”
“How?”
“I only fly with the team because they prefer that all their players are together and arrive places at the same time so they don’t end up fucking up their schedule. I have my own plane.”
Dante had his own plane. Of course, he did. What was I thinking?
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Quinn, I’m offering. It’s the least I can do after getting into that fight.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“I have one more thing to ask though,” he said.
“What?”
“I don’t know about you, but I was excited about finally being in a place with plenty of private rooms that we could use… together.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I like fucking in places it's not allowed, but I like being able to lock a door, too.”
“Hm, I agree.”
“This whole suspension thing doesn’t have to ruin everything though.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Come home with me,” he said.
“Your house?”
“Yeah. You can stay as long as you want.”
“Are you asking me to come to your place for a sleepover?”
“Quinn,” he said, pausing and touching my hair, moving it behind my ear. “We both know the last thing either of us will be doing is sleeping.”
It was that thing that Dante had that made women so attracted to him; he was using it on me. He was using it on me—and it was working. He was selling something—and I wanted to buy. I felt hot inside of my body. He didn’t need to ask me twice to do anything at all with him. The answer was already yes, but I was too proud to just let him know what a hold he had over me. Even if he already knew, I didn’t need to make him feel any more confident about it.
“If I come to your place, then I have to stop by mine for clothes.”
“Tell me what you want, I’ll tell Daniella to send someone to buy some.”
“Who is Daniella?”
“My housekeeper.”
He said ‘housekeeper’ like it was the commonest thing in the world to have one. We had never had a housekeeper when I was growing up, but we hadn’t needed one. Dante sure made the most of his money, making sure he had all his bases covered. Maybe that was why he had never settled down with anyone, he didn’t need to because he had all the benefits of a wife without actually being married to one. His housekeeper kept his house running and went home every day, and the girls he fucked provided that service while also leaving every day. The dream…he was living it.
“How long do you expect me to stay?” I asked him.
“You don’t have anything else to do… you don’t have any other guys you have to go home to,” he said. So…a long time was what he was saying. He just wanted me to stay with him, indefinitely. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Of course, I wanted to say yes, but it was sort of a lot. The point at which I could still be awkward about us being together had passed. We were fucking. I couldn't even be coy about it anymore. It was no use.
I couldn't pretend that we were still here, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, because we were not. We were going at it and going at it was probably what we would have been doing if this whole fiasco hadn't occurred. I wasn't mad about it as much as I was just a little insecure.
This would last as long as he was in a position where he had to have me around all the time. I was the woman he was allowed to be with, so I was the woman that he was with.
If he wasn't into me beyond the sex we could have together, he was good at making me think that he was. He... the last time we had been together…had said I was his. He had said it over and over again: “Mine, mine, mine.”
I was nervous about what he meant when he said it. Did it even mean anything? Maybe he was just saying it to make me hot or whatever. Maybe he got off on hearing women say that they were all his. The way we related to each other every other time, it was just so hard to put a real label on what we were or to even try and pinpoint what it was that he must have been feeling, or what box he had me in in his life.
I didn't have him in just one box. He was in several. I had heard enough times that men could compartmentalize things and not get as harassed about them as women got.
This, now that I was feeling it, was what I had been trying to avoid when we had gotten together.
I wanted to know what this was so I knew how to feel about it because labeling it according to my feelings was way too risky. My feelings had been pretty fine before this whole thing, but now that the man had essentially tried to take me out on a date and now was asking me to go hide away with him at his house, I was beginning to feel a little funny.
I was beginning to feel that perhaps, I liked Dante a lot more than I wanted to and a lot more than he wanted me too, as well. So I had a little crush. That was fine. That was not that big a deal.
Thousands of women had crushes on Dante Rock. I was just the girl who was lucky enough—at the moment at least—to be the one he was sleeping with.
The one he was sleeping with.
The one he was sleeping with.
That was who I was. Nothing more. I was the one he was sleeping with. He had a reputation. He could sleep with anyone and he had slept with everyone. I was just another one.
"It's still dark, how soon before we can leave?" I asked.
It was the wee hours of the morning. After midnight and before five in the morning was no man's time. It was the time at which anything that was happening was bad. You could be sure of it.
"The plane is mine; we can leave as soon as you want."
"I want to go home," I said.
"I'll start making the calls now. We can go to the hotel and get ready to leave and it will be ready when we get to the airport.”
I ended up falling asleep in the car back to the hotel, an Uber that Dante called while he was on the phone. I was ready and packed quickly, and the hotel let us check out.
I must have fallen asleep on the second taxi ride, the one to the airport because all I remembered was waking up. We didn't have to go through the usual airport protocol and were led right out onto the runway where the plane was. It was a little smaller than the one that his team used, but the inside was more luxurious.
Inside, it looked like a really nice living room. There were seats along one side with a table between them and a couple rows of seats—the way they looked in regular planes—on the other side of the aisle. In the back was a door which was closed.
The captain and the single flight attendant were warm and accommodating.
"You like it?" Dante asked me.
I loved it. If I wasn't careful, I would get used to traveling like that. Coach would never be enough again.
"I've seen better," I joked. I sat down in one of the plush seats gratefully. I picked at a couple of the grapes that were in the bowl of fruit that was between the two chairs. "And bigger."
"You haven't seen the best part."
He noted my posture and probably the bags under my eyes. I must have looked exhausted. I had washed all my makeup off after we had gotten back to the hotel.
"Tired?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Too bad, I thought we could have some fun," he said.
"Doing what? We're on a plane."
He smirked and stood, holding his hand out for me to take. He led me to the closed door and opened it. The plane had an entire bedroom with a bed in the back. He closed the door behind us. The room looked just like a regular bedroom if a little oddly shaped because of the shape of the aircraft. I felt his hands on my waist and his lips on the back of my neck. He swept all my hair out of the way and kissed me there. I sighed and let him.
It felt great. It was intimate and gentle. He trailed kisses up my neck, close to my hairline, biting along the outside of my ear. I turned around and kissed him on the lips. He deepened it immediately, pushing his tongue into my mouth.
That was what he had meant by “fun.” Part of me probably knew but was really tired and hoped he would just let me sleep. That part, the tired part, felt wide-awake suddenly. Suddenly sleep seemed boring. Why would I go to sleep when this was on the table?
I felt myself start to get wet. I knew he didn’t bring me back here to sleep even though he must have been tired after the night he had had. I knew I was tired, but there were slightly more important things going on at the moment.
“I thought you'd be tired and want to go to sleep,” I said to him. He smiled down at me.
“You’ve seen me play, Quinn. You know it takes a lot to wear me out. I’ve been waiting so long to get you alone like this again.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I already know you have an exhibitionist streak. All the times we’ve had sex, it's been in places where anyone could catch us if they really wanted to. I’ve been waiting to get you in a room alone.”
“What difference would that make?”
“Here…I can finally see you naked.”
He walked past me and sat on the bed. He leaned back, bracing himself on one arm and using his other hand to undo his pants and fish his cock out of his underwear. I stared. The sight of his member took me out every time. I’d had it inside of me, inside of my mouth too, but the size of it was still impressive. I felt myself becoming wet, thinking about what was about to happen.
Dante was right. This was going to be the first time that he and I were going to be truly alone together.
“Strip,” he said. “Take it all off.”
I looked into his eyes. They were clouding over with lust. I pulled my blouse out of my skirt and started undoing the buttons one by one. I pulled the two sides of the top open and slipped it off. Dante was watching me, silent and intent. I reached behind myself and undid the button and zipper of the skirt I was wearing, letting it simply fall to the ground in a pool around my feet. I was in my underwear now. I only ever wore white under my clothes, unless it would be visible through the fabric of my shirts, in which case I wore nude like I was today.
It wasn’t anything extra special. Nothing lacy and erotic from Agent Provocateur. It was just a matching bra and thong set.
“Keep going,” he said. “I didn’t ask you to stop.” He was jerking his dick, and it was getting stiffer and stiffer. I smiled and unhooked my bra, letting it fall off my body and join the rest of my clothes on the ground. A lot of guys in the past had been fans of the tits. I realized then that I didn’t know whether Dante was. We had never been fully naked when we’d had sex. They were natural full-C cups, which I always put in push up bras because I wasn’t sure they were proportional to my height.
I was in my heels and panties now. Dante’s dick was at attention. There was no getting harder than it was right then. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of my panties.
“Stop,” he instructed. I looked at him, wondering whether I had done something wrong. “Come here.”
I walked over to him like I was hypnotized. I didn’t even question what he wanted me to do. I stopped right in front of him, between his spread legs.
“Turn around,” he said.
Turn around? Turn around and do what? I turned slowly so I was facing away from him. I moved my hair over my shoulder to the front so I could look back at him.
“Bend over. Pull your panties off,” he said. I was thankful I wasn’t looking right at him because I was sure I wouldn’t be able to take it. I bent slowly at the hips and slid my thong down my thighs. I felt open and exposed. I had been with other guys before, but this experience was one of the most erotic things I had ever gone through.
I knew—bent over like that—that he could see just how wet he had made me. I held my breath, feeling the shock of his hand coming to rest on my hip. He ran his hand over my ass, squeezing. My breath caught, feeling him run his thumb over my tight rosebud.
“Spread your legs,” he said. I felt him kiss and bite the skin on my thighs and ass until he finally ran his tongue over my soaking wet lower lips. I sighed. It felt incredible. I felt impossibly open to him. My head was down and my legs were open. I had nothing to hide behind. He held my hips and ate me out from behind.
The embarrassment I had initially felt being so exposed immediately evaporated.
His tongue ran over my lips and between them, lapping up the juice spilling from me. I felt deep carnal desire inside me radiating from between my legs. The tip of his tongue lapped over my entrance before he slid it inside, tongue fucking me. I pushed my hips back, wanting more. I felt his hand reach for my clit, gently rubbing, as his tongue went to work penetrating me. My eyes were shut. The sensation from his tongue and hand warmed my whole body. His tongue left my channel and moved up, licking over my bud. He was groaning, and the sounds his mouth made as he ate me made me blush. I wanted him to stop so he would fuck me. I wanted him to let me ride him until he shot his cum inside of me.
“Dante, I want you,” I said.
“Hm?” his mouth was still occupied.
“I want you to fuck me, Dante. I want to feel you come inside of me.”
He released my hips so I could straighten up. My legs felt unsteady. I turned around to look at him. He smirked at me and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. I walked back over to him and stood with my legs apart. He took my hips and pulled me onto his lap. He kissed me, sucking my tongue into his mouth. I could feel his dick against my stomach. I reached between us and held it in my hand, pushing its thick head into me.
I held his shoulders to keep me steady. I closed my eyes, feeling him fill me up, almost too much. His hand brushed my cheek. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He kissed me sweetly. The contrast between the sweetness of his kiss and what we had just done and were about to do was dizzying. I ground into him.
His lips attacked my neck and chest as I rode his dick. He leaned back on one arm, wrapping the other around my back and using it to feel me up. His hand moved up between my shoulders and to the back of my head and down to my ass. His dick stretched me out erotically as he penetrated me.
“Slow down, baby,” he whispered to me. I didn’t want to. I wanted to come. I wanted him to make me come. He suddenly leaned all the way back down onto the bed and held me by the hips, making me stay still. He pulled me down so my tits pressed against his chest. He kissed me, deeply licking the inside of my mouth. My lips felt swollen and tender from his rough kisses. I tried to grind against him to feel the friction of his dick, but he wouldn’t let me.
Holding me still, he thrust up into me lazily. It was slow and sensual. I relished the feeling of him rubbing against the most sensitive parts of me, but I felt needy and frustrated. He was making me wait.
“Faster,” I begged him. He kissed me and held my face so I would look at him.
“Relax, baby,” he said. “You’re mine; we can do this whenever you want.”
"I want to feel you come inside of me Dante, please," I begged. He continued his slow, delicious torture. My body was hot and cold at the same time. I wanted to be ravaged, but he was going to take it slow and drive me crazy. The frustration felt as good as the sensation. I felt his hand reach between my ass cheeks and tease my hole. If I didn't come soon, I was going to scream. I was going to cry. I was going to explode.
"Dante, I need you," I said. I sounded desperate and wanton. I was. I was begging a man to fuck me the way I knew he knew how.
He suddenly gripped my hips and started hammering his cock up into me. Holding me by the arms so they were behind me and my tits hung near enough his face for him to suck my nipples. He used his teeth, biting as he slammed into me from below. I screamed from the pleasure and pain of his mouth and cock stimulating me at the same time.
I came, collapsing in an exhausted heap on top of him. He blew his load with his last few thrusts, spurting deep inside of me.
We fell asleep on the bed for the rest of the flight.