Chapter 77. Regrets
By the time I finally topple off Dante, sated, the sun is nowhere to be seen, and dinner is long forgotten. My skin clings to the sheets with sweat, and I spend a long time just catching my breath.
After that long time passes, I look over at Dante. Tonight wasn’t our most intense session, but usually by this point, he’s up reminding me aftercare is an important part of the process and I’ll get a UTI if I don’t go to the bathroom. Instead, he just lays on the pillow, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling with his gaze distant. Judging by the wrinkle between his eyebrows, business has him worried, not me.
Maybe this is where I fit into the Saints now. Not boss in name, but boss in bed. The place he comes to unload the problems he can’t figure out on his own, and I help him unsnarl them. At least for now.
“Thought for a thought?” I graze my fingers down the middle of his chest, avoiding the few remaining staples he says Dr. Domino is going to take
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