AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dante appears in the doorway, tall, broad, and imposing. His damp hair falls loosely, framing his gorgeous face, while his torso remains bare save for a towel slung around his neck. His body—God, his body—a mesmerizing tapestry of corded muscles and ink, looks like a sin I’d gladly commit.
“Adele,” he growls softly, his voice carrying across the poolside. My name rolling off his tongue feels like a long, slow lick between my thighs.
The world narrows, and everything fades except for him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dante
The scent of chlorine reaches me before I see the water, mingling with the fragrance of tropical flowers from the conservatory. I pause at the entrance, taking a deep breath. Then, squaring my shoulders, I step out into the sunlight, my eyes immediately searching for her.
She’s lounging on a chaise, engrossed in conversation with Sophie. For a moment, I just watch her, drinking in the sight of her voluptuous curves in a tiny blue bikini. Then, as if sensing my presence, she looks up.
The smile that spreads across her face is like a sunrise, brilliant and warm. And then she’s on her feet in an instant, all pretense of cool abandoned as she runs toward me, her steps perfectly uneven.
I open my arms just as she reaches me, and suddenly she’s there—warm, soft, real. Her arms wind around my neck, her legs around my waist, our bodies molding together like two parts of a whole. The scent of her—sunscreen, chlorine, and vanilla—fills my nostrils, making my head spin.
“Dante,” she breathes, her voice muffled against my neck. I tighten my arms around her, one hand sliding into her hair, cradling her head.
“I fucking missed you, baby,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her temple, then my tongue sweeps inside her mouth, and I groan as her taste seeps onto my tongue. One hand leaves the curve of her ass to find the knot of skin on her hip, and her breath stutters as she writhes against me.
A throaty laugh makes us break apart. Sophie is standing now, one hand resting on her swollen belly, an amused smirk on her face.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “I still haven’t recovered from the last time I had to go soak my eyes in bleach after one of your cuddles.”
Addy laughs, the sound vibrating against my chest, but she doesn’t let go of me. I feel a grin tugging at my own lips.
“Sorry, sis,” I say, not feeling sorry at all.
She waves a hand dismissively, already turning to leave. “Just try to keep it PG-13 until I and the babies are out of earshot, yeah?”
As Sophie’s footsteps fade away, I turn my attention back to Addy.
“How was . . . work?” Her green eyes are locked on mine, filled with avid curiosity and a blatant hunger. My attempt at a teasing reply instantly dies on my lips.
Instead, I say, “Work was good. Win some . . . lose some.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I huff out a surprised chuckle. “Do I want to talk about it? Sure. Which part do you want? Bright and shiny or dark and twisted?”
I cup her face in my hands, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When they open again, they’re on fire.
“What if I said twisted?”
Well, then. Without a word, I step backward, walking us into the shallow edge of the pool. The warm water envelops us, and Addy’s legs tighten around my waist as I wade deeper into the pool.
Her skin is slick against mine, her breasts pressing against my chest with each breath. I can feel her heartbeat, or maybe it’s mine—they seem to have synchronized, creating a rhythm that drowns out everything else.
“Ask me anything you want to know,” I say then capture her lips with mine.
The kiss is hungry and desperate, a week’s worth of longing poured into it. Addy responds eagerly, her fingers tangling in my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. A low groan of pleasure escapes me, the sound getting lost in her mouth.
When we come up for air, we’re both breathing heavily. Addy’s cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I press my forehead against hers, content for a moment to just hold her, to breathe her in.
But I can see the questions in her eyes, the curiosity that’s always there. She bites her lower lip, a gesture I’ve come to recognize as a prelude to a difficult question.
“So,” she begins, her voice soft but steady. “You and Sal found the bomber, right?”
