Indebted to the Mafia King
Aftercare

Eleni

The rising sun peeks through the heavy hotel curtain as I lean back into Dante's hands in the massive bathtub. He smooths conditioner over my hair, the final step in our now usual aftercare routine. I sigh and continue picking up the pieces of myself that scatter when he takes me apart like that. Still, I always return to myself looser-limbed and more at ease than before.

Dante drops a kiss on my soapy shoulder. "How are you doing, El?"

"Good." I smile. "You?"

He chuckles. "Grateful that little stunt didn't get us kicked out of the restaurant. I liked the food."

I grin. "And the blowjob?'

"Now I know you're back." He shakes his head. "The blowjob, I can get at home. Or anywhere else, it seems."

I stretch out as I laugh. Through the soapy water, I can just see my tanned legs next to Dante's longer, paler ones. I tangle my ankle with his just to feel him in more places.

"Do you ever daydream about that?" I ask.

Dante removes his hands from my hair. "Don't rinse yet, it needs to sit. Daydream about your mouth? Daily."

I giggle. "That's not what I meant, but I don't believe you."

He wraps one arm around my waist, heavy and warmer than the cooling water. I snuggle in.

"El, you've got a mouth men could write poetry about." He kisses my cheek. "Daily might be undershooting."

Sleep starts to wind greedy fingers into my muscles. As soon as we leave the bath, I'm going to pass out. But I need to stay awake a little longer.

"Having sex in other places," I say.

He hums. "I assume you want something more specific than I haven't entered a space in the last three months without thinking about fucking you there?"

I nod as embers of arousal warm in my core. It's too late and I'm too sore to do anything else, but I enjoy the feeling anyway.

"Piacere, certainly," he says. "In a few different places. The middle of the dance floor. My office, properly this time. The room where we met."

I grin. "Playing out the fantasy of taking me up on my initial offer?"

He nods with a sly smile.

"We could do that, if you weren't so goddamn busy," I mumble.

"You've been busy too," he answers mildly. "I got home early on Saturday, and you were out with Seb for another two hours."

"Saturday?" The back of my mind, like I've forgotten something important.

"You came home with all that produce?" He curls some of my hair around one of his fingers.

"Oh!" I sit up, though I instantly miss his warmth against my back. "Some Russian slammed into me. I completely forgot to tell you." He chuckles and pulls me back. "Seb didn't forget."

"He told you about the tattoos?" I frown. "And how fucking big they were?"

"The second part took a little more convincing, but yes." Dante kisses along the line of my neck. "Why do you bring this up now?"

"Because...." I shake my head, struggling to keep my thoughts in order when I know sleep is so close. "Because I couldn't find anything about them while you were healing other than rumors." "They're very secretive," Dante says.

"I don't even know who their fucking boss is," I complain.

He laughs. "Neither do I, but I've got men on it. I don't think a couple Russians in a market are anything to worry about, though."

His voice is so soft, so smooth. Dante knows what he's talking about. He wouldn't lie to me, and he wouldn't put me in danger if he didn't have to. I nod.

"Let's get you in bed before you fall asleep," he says. "Rinse."

I'm not inclined to disagree with much of anything anymore. I wash the conditioner off underwater, then surface. Dante stands first, and I twist to watch the water sheet off his bare body. A cluster of bubbles clings to his hip bone, and I swipe it away with a finger. He smiles softly down at me, then steps out. I lean against the side of the tub, my eyelids drooping, as he wraps himself in one plush, cream-colored hotel towel and throws a second one over his shoulder. He returns to me and holds out his hands. "Time to get up."

I grumble, but I like this part almost as much as all of the others. Dante's hands are strong and muscular in mine as he helps me stand, but all of the threat of that strength has drained away. The arm that catches me when I stumble stepping over the high wall holds nothing but promise and protection. He wraps the second hotel towel around me, and the soft fabric soothes the new bruises on my skin. Dimly, my mind drifts to the ring box. He hasn't said a word about that yet. If I were him, and I was going to...I don't know, propose, I'd pick a moment like this.

Dante lifts me to sit on the counter and drags a wide-toothed comb coated in thick moisturizer through my hair, section by section.

The first time he tried this aftercare routine and let me go to sleep right after the bath like I wanted to, I woke up with my hair in such a snarl that I think I would've gotten it all cut off if we hadn't been at the safe house upstate at the time. After that, he made me walk him through what I did with my hair after a shower and memorized every step. I stare up at him as he tends to me. His dark eyes are soft, and the small tension furrow between his brows only appears when he hits a few particularly tangled curls. He hums to himself softly as he works, but I've never asked him what song it is. By this point, I can rarely muster the energy to speak. I love the song, though. I love Dante.

He lifts me in his arms and carries me to the bed. I pull off the towel and tuck myself under the covers while he circles around and joins me on the opposite side. As soon as he lays down, I pillow my head on his chest. He wraps an arm around me and doesn't say a word. The ring box appears in my mind again. I'd definitely choose a moment like this. So if he isn't, maybe I'm wrong. I never opened the box. It could be any-

I fall asleep before I finish the thought.