Read WickedTakeover Online

Authors: Tina Donahue

WickedTakeover (11 page)

So much for shedding all of her practicality. Before Dante
was through, he wanted Lauren as uninhibited as he was.

Joining him, she eyed the ride. “Does it work?”

He placed her hand on his monster erection. “What do you
think?”

“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever known.” She sagged against
him. “You’re also nuts if you believe I’d ever question your virility.”

“Talk about a backhanded compliment.” He swatted her ass
then captured her mouth, plunging his tongue deeply inside. Lauren made a faint
noise of surprise before suckling his tongue as though it were the best thing
she’d ever tasted. With her arms wreathed around his neck, she held him
tightly.

Her strength had nothing on his. Dante warned himself to
take it easy so he wouldn’t hurt her. He was that turned-on. Carefully, he
fondled her breast, drawing his thumb over her nipple. She pushed her body into
his, ground her pussy against his cock and dug her fingers into his shoulders, tugging
him closer.

So much for being cautious. On a husky growl, he deepened
their kiss and squeezed her boob. Her moan said she liked that. They kept
trying to get closer to each other, eventually staggering back and forth as
they enjoyed one helluva deep, wet, prolonged kiss.

He broke it before she did, needing air. Lauren rested her
head against his shoulder and murmured, “More.”

Grinning, Dante eased away and grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
He helped her onto the platform and bypassed the horses.

“Wait.” She held back. “I like this one.” She stroked its
wooden tail.

Dante pulled her forward. “You’ll like this better.” He
stopped at one of the bench-like seats that had high panels on either side
decorated with a fairy prince and princess.

Lauren made a face. “That’s the old people’s seat.”

“Not with me here it isn’t. No, don’t sit.”

She straightened. “Why not? Wait. Where are you going?”

To start the ride, hopefully. The control panel was in a
podium to the right where the operator stood. Dante dug the instructions out of
his back pocket and tried to read them in the gloom. At last, he turned on his
cell phone, using its light.

Lauren gripped one of the poles and leaned toward him. “Do
you know what you’re doing?”

He looked up. “You even have to ask?”

She regarded his cheat sheet. “Nope. You’re perfect.”

Laughing softly, he pulled out the key and opened the
control box.

“Gabe gave you that?” she asked.

Another friend in local government had. “I just found it one
day.”

“Wow, are you lucky or what? Are you going to turn on the
lights and music? You know, draw a crowd?”

He shot her a look. “What do you think?”

She smiled sweetly. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

He wished. Dante followed the instructions religiously and
prayed that the piped calliope music and blazing lights wouldn’t come on.
Holding his breath, he finally flicked the switch. The motor hummed and the
carousel started to turn slowly. No lights. No music.

Blastoff.

Pocketing the instructions, he strode to the ride and hopped
on. Lauren was several feet away now, one hand on the bench to steady herself,
the other waving furiously as though to make certain he saw her. Suppressing
more laughter, he moved past the bobbing horses and reached her side.

She looked at him in what appeared to be awe, her expression
filled with tenderness and hunger. “What now?” she murmured.

Dante didn’t have time for words. As quickly as he could, he
unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them and his stretchy boxers down and plopped on
the bench, his cock so rigid and ready the damn thing pointed up at her.

Lauren licked her lips.

Before she got the wrong idea and fell to her knees, he
pulled a condom from his pocket. Once he’d rolled it down his length, he
ordered, “Hop on.”

With an indecent smile, Lauren gripped his shoulder, using
him for support. She lifted her skirt to the middle of her belly. Her curls
glistened in the available light, showing Dante how wet she was.
Oh baby.
His
body pulsed with need. She was about to straddle him when he said, “No. Not
that way.” His words caught with his crazy arousal. He cleared his throat.
“Turn around.”

Her expression questioned but she didn’t say anything. She
turned slowly, obviously uncertain of her footing. “I have you,” he said,
resting his hands on her hips. “I won’t let you fall.”

She looked over. “I know that.”

Her obvious faith made Dante feel more worthy than he had in
a long time. He returned her soft smile.

“Ready?” she asked.

“You can’t imagine.”

With her back to him and his hands supporting her, she
straddled Dante’s legs. He drew in a deep breath at her cradling his rod,
guiding it to her pussy, his crown sliding over her silky folds. Shit, she was
beyond wet. He groaned in delight then couldn’t make another sound as her body
sank down, her pussy slowly swallowing his shaft.

God.
Her tightness and heat caressed like nothing
else could. Impatient, he jerked his hips, pushing the last of his rod inside
her.

Lauren’s head fell forward. She made sounds that were just
this side of wild.

Wanting more—hell, demanding everything—he pressed his face
against her shoulder and pulled her tee up above her bra. Her back arched.
Dante frowned. She was wearing too many fucking clothes. Not wanting to take
the time to figure out where the bra’s clasp might be, he pulled the cups aside
and down, freeing her lavish breasts.

Their weight and her tightened nipples undid Dante. On a
coarse growl, he fondled her roughly, just as he knew she liked and he
preferred. Lauren gasped in delight then whispered something he didn’t quite
catch. He jerked his hips again, wanting to be deeper, to burrow as far as he
could within her.

Tightening her cunt around his cock, Lauren lifted her body
from his then came right back down.

Blood pounded in his ears from the friction she’d created.
Every part of Dante was so sensitive he had to grit his teeth to keep from
bellowing in delight.

Lauren rode him with true abandon, her actions proving she
cared only about this and them, not the rest of the world. It swirled by as the
carousel turned, the vegetation and long expanses of grass nothing more than
shadowed blurs. He squeezed her breasts then ran his hand down her torso to her
thatch of hair and clit.

When he stroked the hard little nub, Lauren froze briefly.
Then on a low lusty moan, she continued to pump as he rubbed her. The bench
creaked with their movements. A sudden gust of wind whisked past. Their scents
mingled. The soft noises they made blended, creating beautiful night music.

Dante fought climax. Lauren did too. She slowed down and
gulped air, her body shivering with unmistakable need. After calming somewhat,
she sped up as though fearful she’d lose the precious feelings, her actions
confirming that she needed to drive herself and him over the edge. At last, it
neared, as unstoppable as each minute that ticked by.

They soared and tumbled together, his growl, her moan in
perfect harmony, their bodies damp with perspiration, their strained breaths
breaking the silence before floating away into the night.

Chapter Eight

 

Lauren slouched in her office chair, her emotions a mess.
Before her evening in the park with Dante, she’d been falling too fast and hard
for him. Since then…

You can’t do this.

She’d kept saying the same to herself that night.

After she and Dante had caught their second wind and kissed
for minutes, he’d brought her to the horse she’d petted. He’d helped her on the
dumb thing, slapped its flank and barked, “Go Bessie!”

Lauren figured he must have seen a lot of old Hollywood
Westerns when he’d been young. As far as rides went, Bessie was beyond lame,
doing nothing more than sliding up and down a pole.

It was magical.

Dante stood at Lauren’s side content to watch her have a
good time. When they finally left, they’d strolled arm-in-arm back to his
pickup, pausing frequently to hug.

There hadn’t been anything sexual about those moments, which
made them even more enthralling. Their silence was comfortable rather than
awkward, neither of them trying to entertain the other.

Leaving him to go home was one of the hardest things Lauren
had ever done. She’d wanted to wake up with him in the morning even as she
warned herself to cool it. He wasn’t ever going to be hers. He was simply a
great guy and kept proving it.

A few days ago, he’d offered a check to help with her bills,
which led to their first argument. She started it, and he refused to
participate.

“Come on,” he’d murmured, wagging the check so she’d take
it. “You need this. I don’t.”

Lauren had pushed his hand away again. “I can’t accept it.”

“You’d rather see your car repossessed or your condo foreclosed
on? That’s smart.”

None of this was. It wouldn’t last. Men like him didn’t fall
for women like her. She was okay-looking, not a raving beauty. She was too big.
Hadn’t all those kids in school reminded her of that on a daily basis? She and
Dante were friends. That. Was. It. He’d move on eventually to someone as
gorgeous, sweet and smart as Jasmina. When he did, Lauren didn’t want that to
kill her. Shit. She hadn’t even made it through the last crap life had thrown
her way and didn’t need more now on top of that.

“It’s my decision,” she’d said. “Why won’t you respect it?
Is it because I’m a woman?”

His eyebrows lifted. “What does your damn sex have to do
with anything? You’re in a bind financially. It happens to the best of us. I’m
just trying to help.”

“You’re not facing reality,” she snapped. “You never do.”

Dante stared, his expression stunned by her outburst.
“What?”

Even though Lauren knew she was way out of line, she hadn’t
shut up. “Life isn’t about going to parks and riding merry-go-rounds or pretending
that being a tattoo artist and managing a parlor that’s barely surviving is
actually a career. It’s not about having fun all the time. It’s making hard
choices and sticking with them. That’s what being an adult is about.”

She snatched the check and tore it to pieces, throwing them
on the floor. “When I say no, I mean no.”

They’d been in the backroom before hours when she’d said
that. Finished with being a bitch, she’d stormed to her office, slammed the
door and locked it. With her face in her hands, Lauren had cried as she hadn’t
since her mom had passed. She’d wanted to apologize to him but couldn’t bring
herself to do so.

She was afraid to touch Dante again or have him touch her.
Hell, she was terrified even to see him.

Over the next days, she’d avoided being wherever he was,
which was a challenge in such a small building. Dante wasn’t as foolish or as
gutless. He went about his business as though nothing had happened. This
afternoon, when they were finally in the backroom at the same moment, he’d smiled
at her paisley skirt. Today was the first time since Lauren had hollered at him
that she hadn’t worn jeans. She was also back to ditching her panties. Lauren
figured she was sending him and herself mixed messages but couldn’t seem to
stop.

Nor could she run any longer, deciding to face him.

“Hey,” he’d murmured easily.

She was such a wreck from missing their great times
together, it took her a moment to respond. “Hey. You doing okay?”

“I’m good.”

Hell, he was perfect. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I shouldn’t
have said—”

Lauren had stopped at Van Gogh shuffling into the room,
looking as gloomy as he always did. He sank into a chair, obviously ready to
take his afternoon break. Not wanting him as a spectator to her fucked-up
feelings, she’d hurried to her office, terrified Dante would knock on the door
and want to talk. When he hadn’t, her spirits sank even further.

Sighing repeatedly, she finally forced herself to surf job
boards, then got brave and checked her email. More than fifty messages stuffed
her inbox, many from employment websites, big box stores having sales,
horoscope sites with her daily reading and one from a K. Ivers.

Lauren frowned at the vaguely familiar last name, trying to
place it and couldn’t. The subject line was typical—Regarding your
candidacy—and meant bad news was coming.

On a noisy sigh, she opened the email.

 

Good afternoon,
Lauren,
it began.

In March, you interviewed for a human resources position
with us at our West Palm Beach office. Although that job has been filled, we
have a new opening we believe you’re quite suited for and would like…

 

Lauren stopped reading, too floored to concentrate. The
sentences kept swimming in front of her.
Calm down, dammit.
At last, she
did and read the message repeatedly. She even checked the email address to make
certain it was actually for her and hadn’t been misdirected from some other
Lauren’s email, if that were even possible.

The company wanted to interview her for a senior HR position
this Friday. Three days from now. K—for Karen—wanted Lauren to call to confirm
that she was still interested and would be able to make the interview. Her
hands shook as she tapped in the number on her smartphone. When the call
connected on the second ring and the receptionist answered with the name of the
company, Lauren went blank.

“How may I direct your call?” the young woman asked.

God, say something,
her mind screamed.
Don’t blow
this.

Willing herself to get a grip, Lauren stated her name and
the reason for her call.

“I’ll put you on calendar for Friday,” the young woman said
then gave Lauren the time. “Will that be okay?”

It was perfect. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“We’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

Lauren said the same, killed the connection and reread
Karen’s email several times to make certain she hadn’t misunderstood anything.
At last, she replied stating that she’d just confirmed her Friday appointment—a
precaution should the receptionist forget to tell Karen about it. Lauren’s
inbox chimed almost immediately with Karen’s warm reply that stated how much
she looked forward to their meeting.

Lauren trembled with happiness then went numb with doubt,
not knowing how to feel. She’d waited so long for this. It sounded so freaking
good. Maybe too good.
Don’t count on it,
she warned herself. Could be
it’d fall through like everything else had.

She made herself apply to several other positions. After
slogging through the online forms, Lauren checked her inbox again. This time
there was an answer to one of her ads about the parlor. She’d gotten several in
the last days, all of them worthless. Not expecting much, she opened the email
and read it quickly.

And got her second surprise today.

Unlike the other replies she’d received, this one provided
detailed information about the potential buyer, including several website
links. Lauren checked them out. The guy already had numerous tattoo parlors
across the state and was looking to expand. She went back to his email, reading
the rest of it.

 

I’d like to see a prospectus of Wicked Brand.

Please send one at your earliest convenience.

 

His request impressed Lauren the most. Weeks ago, she’d
slaved over a PowerPoint presentation and her video of the parlor, figuring she
was wasting her time since no one would ask for them. Hell, the others who had
responded to her ads wouldn’t have known what the word prospectus meant. Given
their poor grammar and crude language, she suspected they were more into porn
sites than finance.

She rechecked the figures in the presentation, bringing them
up to date. For the last several weeks, the parlor had been doing all right.
Not making a fortune, but it was in the black, thanks to the business Jasmina
was bringing in with those young women telling their friends about Dante. Every
day more of those babes strolled in to get themselves inked or pierced and to
drool over him.

Lauren’s palms got sweaty. She recalled the evening she’d
told Dante that he couldn’t date or flirt with the customers. It seemed a
lifetime ago. Even though Lauren knew they’d never be more than friends, she
hadn’t worried about him screwing around with the clients while he was involved
with her. Dante wasn’t that kind of man.

She wiped her palms on her skirt and considered telling him
about Friday’s interview and this guy’s interest in Wicked Brand. If anything,
she should have been pulling a Tom Cruise, jumping on the sofas in the front of
the parlor, shouting at the top of her lungs that things were finally turning
around.

Her shoulders tensed, her earlier excitement turning to
dread that she didn’t want to explore. Chewing her lower lip, she attached the
prospectus to her reply email, along with several newer photos of Van Gogh’s
incredible work. In the body of her email, she praised him and Jasmina for
their outstanding contributions to the parlor. At last, she mentioned Dante,
gushing about him the most. How his business smarts and local contacts made the
operation run smoothly. She would have added more but knew very little about
his past. What had brought him here.

Although Lauren was tempted to Google his name, she didn’t.
It seemed so sneaky. As though she didn’t trust him.

Finished, she sent the message on its way and brooded. A
sharp rap on the door made her jump. Pushing the door open, Dante came inside
and went to her desk.

Lauren panicked, thinking he knew about her emails and told
herself that was nuts. She hoped he’d haul her into his arms and kiss her.
Maybe spank her. Hell, whatever. She wanted some action and him badly.

Despite noise from the clients and a Spanish singer belting
her guts out on the sound system, he spoke softly. “Are you busy tonight?”

With what? A guy? Surely, he didn’t think that. Prior to her
having been so stupid and mean, he would have come in here, taken what he
wanted then told her they’d be doing something wicked after work while refusing
to offer any details. Damn, how she missed that. “No. I’m free. Why?”

“I want to show you something.”

She spoke without thinking, “Another level? There’s more?”

He laughed quietly. “You’ll see. After we finish here, all
right?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t
have attacked you like that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Forgive me, please.” She kissed the blunt
tips of his fingers.

Dante cradled her face with his free hand. “I already have.”

He was too good of a man. She’d acted like such a jerk and
was keeping stuff from him. Lauren wanted to tell Dante about her interview and
the potential buyer but couldn’t bring herself to do so. It was too tentative,
not to mention sad if it worked out. She wouldn’t be able to see him whenever
she wanted as she could now. They might meet infrequently for coffee or dinner,
but that would probably be it. Their friendship would drift away. He’d move on.
She’d have to.

“Thanks,” Lauren said, appreciating his forgiveness. “Should
I wear clothes?”

Dante grinned as he had before she’d made a fool of herself.
“At least until we get there.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers then
left the office and closed her door without saying more.

Trying to work after that was impossible. Lauren watched several
episodes of
Gray’s Anatomy
using her free Hulu account. She got into an
original series called
The Next Step
about teenage dancers at a studio
in Canada. Both of the lead girls were blonde and beautiful. One was a total
bitch, the other as sweet as could be. The writing and acting were awful, but
the drama sucked her in, reminding Lauren of her high school days and the
snotty girls there.

A silly-sweet teenage romance was brewing between one of the
girls and one of the dancer boys when there were rapid-fire knocks on her door.
Lauren jumped. “What?”

Jasmina shouted, “I’m leaving now. Have a good night.”

Lauren wasn’t certain how it could be better than the park
and carousel. That had been epic. “Thanks. You too.”

Van Gogh moved down the hall next, his listless footfalls
unmistakable. “Night,” he called out in the general direction of her office.

“Night,” she shouted.

A few minutes later, Dante opened her door. “Ready?”

For anything, except not hearing him say that again. Sad,
Lauren knew. They both had real lives to get back to that she didn’t want to
think about now. “Absolutely.”

 

She drove, since Dante had walked to work. He didn’t rest
his hand on her thigh or play with her pussy as he had when they’d been in his
pickup. Lauren figured he didn’t trust her to stay on the road if he aroused
her too much.

“See that light?” he asked, pointing.

It was red. “Don’t worry. I’ll stop.”

He smiled. “Turn left there.”

After she did, he directed her up several more streets.
Lauren was so busy following what he said, it took her a moment to notice that
they were in a residential area with spectacular homes, most of them probably
worth a million or more even in the depressed market. She slowed her car to a
crawl and craned her neck to see as much as she could. “What is this place?”

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