Chapter 19
Kat
“He lives here?” I stare up at the building like it’s a monster wanting to swallow me. This place screams old-money elegance. The kind most people can only dream about. There’s even a doorman who greets Otto with a nod before opening the door for me.
My tennis shoes squeak on the marble floors in the lobby, and a crystal chandelier casts a warm light over the gold embellishes around the space.
Whoever my baby-daddy is, he’s loaded. That really would have come in handy when I was a new mom, putting herself through grad school while working two jobs.
I do okay for myself now, but not this kind of okay.
This is way outside my league. Maybe I don’t have to worry about Lincoln’s college fund after all.
Is it bad of me to think that? Probably.
I’m not gonna demand anything from this guy.
Whether he wants to take responsibility for Lincoln is up to him.
Linc and I haven’t needed him before, and we’ll get by fine on our own.
But I definitely wouldn’t turn down some college funding if he offered.
“This way.” Otto puts his hand on my back, stopping me mid-spin as I take in the room. He guides me through a hall behind the main elevators to a private one with a keypad. He quickly types in a code, and the doors open.
The last time we were in an elevator together, I came harder than I ever have—at least as far as I can remember. How much more could we get up to in a private elevator?
“Why are elevators so hot?” Otto asks as if he’s reading my mind. His hand comes to the small of my back as we step into the little box, which is much smaller than the one in my building.
I shrug and fix a smear of lipstick in the mirror. “Cramped space. Mirrors. No avoiding each other. The risk of getting caught.”
Nerves skitter across my skin, making my stomach flutter as the elevator moves upward.
I’m about to meet a stranger who knows me intimately, a man who was inside me just this morning even though I couldn’t tell you his height or the color of his eyes or anything else about him.
My palms begin to sweat, and I wipe them on the loose fabric of my dress.
I watch the numbers over the door steadily count upward. “Why do you think I forgot Damian this morning even though we were together?”
“No idea.” Otto plays with the stud in his bottom lip. “Maybe the orgasm? The French call it the little death, so maybe that’s like leaving for a moment?”
“We don’t know for sure I orgasmed.”
“Believe me when I say there’s no way you had sex with Damian and didn’t come. Just looking at the man is enough to have me nearly spilling in my pants. Plus, he wouldn’t have come before you. Trust me. You came.”
My cheeks feel hot, and I pull at the collar of my shirt to get some airflow.
“Or maybe it’s a time thing,” Otto muses. “Like you just timed out? I don’t know.” He takes my hand and pulls me across the space so we’re pressed together. “We’re gonna solve this. Don’t worry, beauty.”
How is this my life? Two days ago, I didn’t even know this man. Yesterday, I was determined to make him eat shit for forcing me to become a fucking dragon against my will. Now, it feels as natural as breathing to have him hold and comfort me. Maybe I’m just touch-starved.
I clear my throat and step away. “You know, I haven’t forgiven you.”
He has the audacity to smirk. “Yeah, you have.”
“No, I haven’t.” I stomp my foot like a petulant child and immediately regret it. In all the craziness of finding my son’s dad and learning why I can’t remember him, I’ve been too distracted to stay upset with Otto. Not to mention, I’ve needed his support.
But what he did isn’t excusable.
The door opens directly into the penthouse before I can say anything else.
“Here we are.” Otto holds his arm out, waiting for me to go first.
Modern furniture graces the space with clean lines and solid colors that contrast with the exposed brick walls. Abstract art adds pops of vibrant color, and the floor to ceiling windows wash the room in bright natural light.
My mouth falls open, but it’s not the casual elegance of the apartment that surprises me. It’s the naked man. He’s facing the window, but he spins around when he hears us step out of the elevator, angrily pumping his cock like it did something to offend him.
Our eyes catch, and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t stop. If anything, his hand moves faster, harder. Like he’s punishing himself more than seeking pleasure.
“You won’t remember this anyway.” The snarl on his face breaks into a sob.
I gasp as I realize who this is and why he said that. This is Damian.
He looks as broken as the expensive coffee table between us.
It’s clear something heavy fell on it recently, and he hasn’t bothered cleaning up the broken shards of wood.
He’s been drinking. The scent of alcohol is thick in the room, and he sways a little as he steps away from the window.
His eyes are red rimmed like he’s been crying for hours.
Tears threaten my own eyes, but I don’t look away. I have a vague sense that I should be horrified by what I’m seeing. I should run back into the elevator and get out of here. But for some reason, his pain doesn’t scare me. And neither does the raw desire I see on his face.
I take a tentative step closer. He presses back against the window.
His hand slows, and he blows out a breath like he’s trying to get himself to stop.
Flickering flames burn bright in his eyes, eclipsing his pupils.
Scales shimmer on various parts of his body, popping up before turning back to skin. This man is half beast right now.
A tortured beast.
Because of me.
Because he thinks he’s lost me.
I don’t remember him. I know nothing about him except what Otto told me, but something deep in my gut—something primal and instinctive—tells me he’s mine.
Holding Damian’s gaze, I slowly walk around the coffee table to where he’s standing by the window and lower to my knees.
“What are you doing, beauty?” Otto’s tone is worried. “He’s half feral right now.”
“I know.” I give my unexpected and unasked-for mate what I hope is a reassuring smile, then turn all my attention back to Damian. “Come here.” The words are thick with command. I might be kneeling, but I’m the one in control right now. “Come. Here.”
Damian staggers forward. “Kat.” His breath is ragged. “I can’t… what if you…”
He’s only a foot away from me now, so I scoot a little closer on my knees. My tongue traces my parted lips as I stare at him. He’s shaking his head. I wrap my hand around his so we’re gripping his cock together. Then I look up through my lashes, open my mouth, and stick out my tongue.