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Trying to distract me already?
Last Updated:
2026-01-06 01:09:23
Latest chapter
His Dirty Little Secret Damn it, Cassidy, pull it together.
Cassidy’s POVThe first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, painting the bedroom in soft golden hues that danced across the rumpled sheets like fleeting promises. I stirred slowly, my body still humming from the night's emotional whirlwind—the relief of Dante's return from confronting Evelyn, the lingering warmth of our kiss on the couch that had evolved into something deeper, more reaffirming, our bodies entwining in a rhythm that chased away the shadows. His arms were wrapped around me now, his chest rising and falling steadily against my back, his breath warm on my neck, a steady reminder of the sanctuary we'd built in these stolen weeks. For a moment, I let myself sink into it, the safety of his embrace, the way his hand rested possessively on my hip, fingers splayed as if to anchor me there forever, warding off the inevitable. But as consciousness fully returned, so did the weight in my chest, heavy and unyielding, like a stone lodged where my he
His Dirty Little Secret You think she’s soft?
Dante's POV The words stung, dredging up old guilts, but I pushed them down. Ruthless? Yes, in business. But with Cassidy, it was different—vulnerability shared, not weaponized. I thought of her earlier that night, curled on the couch in my shirt, trusting me implicitly even as shadows loomed. “Cassidy knows me—all of me. The breakdowns, the rebuilds. She doesn’t run from the ugly parts; she faces them with me. That’s trust, Evelyn. Something you never grasped. You saw relationships as mergers—assets and liabilities. When I became a liability, you cut losses. But this? Stalking, harassment, attempting corporate sabotage by leaking merger details? That’s not payback; it’s criminal. Mara’s got the full trail: IP addresses bouncing through proxies but leading back to your burner, the PI’s confession naming you as client, even timestamps on the photos matching your location data. It’s ironclad.”She inhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling rapidly, the reality sinking in like a lead
His Dirty Little Secret She’s a distraction.
Dante’s POV I stepped inside the room and the door closed behind me with a soft, final click that reverberated like the sealing of a tomb. The sound hung in the air, heavy and irrevocable, marking the end of something I'd long tried to bury. The interrogation room was a stark, unforgiving space—concrete walls painted a dull institutional gray, scuffed from years of confrontations, the air thick with the faint metallic tang of fear and desperation. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry insects, casting harsh, unflattering shadows that hollowed out Evelyn's cheeks and accentuated the dark circles under her eyes. A single metal table dominated the center, bolted securely to the floor to prevent any dramatic flips in heated moments, and she sat chained to it, her wrists cuffed to a ring embedded in the surface. The chain links gleamed coldly under the lights, a stark contrast to the disheveled woman they restrained.Evelyn flinched despite herself, her body jerking slightly as i
His Dirty Little Secret You drive me crazy.
Dante’s POV "Dante... yes," she moaned, her voice breathy and needy, sending a jolt straight through me like lightning. Her fingers tightened in my hair, pulling me closer as she arched off the couch, her body a live wire under my touch. The taste of her skin—salty from the faint sheen of sweat, sweet from the lingering vanilla of her lotion—drove me wild, my tongue swirling around her nipple with deliberate slowness, teasing the hardened peak until her breaths came in short, desperate gasps. I switched to the other, giving it the same lavish attention, my hand cupping the first, thumb rolling over it in lazy circles that made her hips buck against me instinctively."God, you're torturing me," she whispered, her head falling back against the cushions, eyes half-lidded with desire, lips parted in that way that always made me want to claim them again. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the soft curves of her breasts heaving under my ministrations, and I couldn't resist grazing my teeth
His Dirty Little Secret Hold for now?
Dante's POV I watched her go, adjusting myself discreetly with a shake of my head, then poured refills into travel mugs, my mind shifting back to logistics. A quick text to Mara: "Any hits on the email sender?" Her reply buzzed in almost immediately: "Encrypted layers peeling back—looks like a VPN hopscotch, but metadata on the photo points to a pro setup, likely a hired eye. Upping surveillance; tail's in position at campus." Good—proactive, no stone unturned. I wouldn't let anonymous shadows touch Cassidy; she'd been through enough rebuilding her trust after her past. By the time she came back down—dressed in form-fitting jeans that hugged her curves just right, a cozy oversized sweater that screamed autumn comfort, and her hair tied back in a loose ponytail—she looked every bit the focused, brilliant student I admired. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder, laptop peeking out, and she grabbed her travel mug with a grateful smile. "Ready, chauffeur? Or are you still daydreaming
His Dirty Little Secret Trying to distract me already?
Dante’s POV The machine hummed to life with a familiar whir, the rich aroma of freshly ground beans filling the air, chasing away the last cobwebs of sleep. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows in golden beams, casting a warm glow over the marble counters and the scattered remnants of last night's takeout—empty cartons of Thai food we'd devoured between laughs and lingering touches, the spicy remnants still lingering faintly in the air like a memory of our heated evening. I leaned against the island, watching the dark liquid drip into the pot with rhythmic precision, my mind replaying the confrontation at the restaurant like a looped video: the rival's hasty retreat, the satisfaction of turning a potential disaster into a strategic win. It should have felt like closure, but that cryptic email this morning—"You think you won? Watch your back. -E"—with the attached photo of Cassidy on campus, had reignited a flicker of unease. A veiled threat, no doubt from someone with a gr
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