The Informant

Chapter Nine

"Hmm." I responded, pretending to think about my response. But I already knew I was going to lie, I was just trying to come up with a reasonable lie. Something that'd make him not ask again, but also something that wouldn't make him more curious.

But then I thought about just telling him the truth. And if he ran now than all the better, right? No hurt. I mean, I'd probably get my feelings hurt if he rejected me, and I'd probably be embarrassed too. But my feelings being hurt and being embarrassed, over my heart being broken, was something I'd prefer any day of the week. For the rest of my life.

He shifted under me impatiently. "I'm not... fond of them." I replied.

He raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow in questioning, "Because?" He asked, dragging the word out when I continued to stay silent.

I rolled my eyes, "I'm a mother, Dante. I went from a C-cup to a double D when I was pregnant with my son."

"And that bothers you because?" His confused expression was the clone of adorable. 

I let out a huff of breath, "Because they have stretch marks and they aren't as perky as they once were."

"Yes, I understand that. But that comes with being a mother, no?"

I leaned my head side to side, "Yes and no. Some women don't get stretch marks at all." I answered.

"And you think those women are lucky?" He asked, using air quotes around the word lucky?

"Well, yes actually. The got the joy of having children without ruining their bodies."

He shifted beneath me, turning his head to the side and lifting his chest to get a look at my face. "You think your son ruined your body, no?"

Flustered I replied, "Well now you're making me sound like I regret him or something. Which I don't. I wouldn't trade my son for anything in the world. I love Julian, don't get me wrong. I just wish being pregnant hadn't made my breast look like cow utters. You know?"

He snickered. "Cow utters you say? I don't particularly believe you."

I nodded, "Well, its true, and i'm not the only one who thinks so either." I accidentally let that little tid-bit slip. I wasn't really the type of person to talk about my past or my troubles really, and I definitely never let shit slip. But something about Dante made me feel comfortable. Maybe even too comfortable. If I do show him he'd probably laugh, or maybe he'd try and play it off, like they weren't hideous, then promise to call me the next night and I'd never hear a word from him again. He seems more like the quietly-run-and-never-return type, now that I really think about it. But If he did then so be it, right? What was that song verse? "If you love me, then thank you, if you hate me, then fuck you.' Sounds like it applies to this situation.

He stiffened "Who exactly agrees with you on this matter, Mia?" 

I involuntarily mocked his stiffness, "It honestly doesn't matter. The fact of the matter is, they used to be perfect, and now they're not. That's hard to get used too." 

He nodded, "Sure, I can understand that. But I also think our biggest flaw finders are ourselves. They are probably not even close to the way you describe them. And you Ex-Husband," He shrugged, then added, "È uno stronzo." 

I wasn't exactly sure what that meant but, I knew it was some sort of insult. His nonchalance about it was sexy, and -like most things Dante did-  I was not so surprisingly turned on by it. The power emitting from his every pour was more than a turn on. I hadn't actually expected something like that to turn me on, Logan was similar to that, but Logan gained it form praying on the weak, smaller minded people... Like me. At least when it came to him. groveling  wasn't something I was used to doing, cowering from someone had never been something I would have normally done. But, Logan seemed to find every weak point inside, dragging it out and using it against me. Repeatedly.