Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Damien
This beautiful girl was very irresponsible. Quitting her job to travel the world on the little money she had was stupid. She wasn’t even thinking about her future. Once her little adventures were over, she’d have nothing.
“Like I said before, Damien, there’s more to life than just making loads of money,” she softly spoke.
“Having money makes me happy, and as long as I can make a shitload of it, I’m going to.”
“Okay.” She placed her hand on my leg. “You do that, but money doesn’t buy happiness.”
“I’m done talking about this,” I spoke as I got up from the bench. “We better head back. It’s getting dark, and I have work to do. You can come back during the day by yourself.”
“I will.” She grinned.
What irritated me about her was that she was always smiling and happy. It was annoying because she wasn’t living in reality.
“You better start looking for an Airbnb when we get back to the penthouse,” I firmly spoke.
“I will. Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
When we stepped into the lobby of my building, I froze when I saw Katherine standing there.
“Katherine, what are you doing here?” I asked in a stern voice.
“I left some of my jewelry in your bedroom and want it back. Who’s this?” she asked as she pointed to London.
“I’m London Everly.” She extended her hand with a smile, and I knew this wouldn’t go well.
“Oh, so you were fucking her too?” Katherine asked in anger as she dismissed London’s hand.
“No, Katherine.” I pushed the button to the elevator, and the doors opened.
“You’re a liar, Damien!”
When we stepped off the elevator, Katherine stormed down the hall and into my bedroom.
“Girlfriend?” London asked.
“No. She was never my girlfriend.” I sighed as I went to the bedroom to ensure she didn’t steal anything from me.
“You’re a real scumbag, Damien Prescott.” Katherine pointed at me.
“Get your jewelry and leave,” I spoke. “And don’t ever come back here again.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” She grabbed her jewelry and stormed out of the bedroom.
“You can have him,” she spat at London. “But beware, he’s a liar, a cheater, and the most uncaring, emotionally unavailable man I’ve ever met in my life.
He’s toxic. So do yourself a favor and run as fast as you can before he breaks your heart.
” She stepped into the elevator, and before the doors closed, she looked at London. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“She sure is angry. What did you do to her?” London asked me as she followed me into my study.
“I did nothing to her. She’s pissed off because she thought we were in a relationship, and I had to set her straight.”
“You didn’t love her?”
“God, no. She was just a friend I fucked and took to dinner a couple of times a week. She was more trouble than what it was all worth. I have work to do. You better get upstairs and start looking for another place.”
“Okay. Good night, Damien.”
I didn’t respond and took a seat behind my desk.
After working for a couple of hours, I turned off the light in my study and walked out.
As I was on my way to the media room to shoot some pool before going to bed, I stopped at the staircase and looked up, wondering if London was sleeping or not. Why did I care?
I tossed and turned all night because of her. She was in my head, and I couldn’t get her out. I kept thinking about Central Park and how excited and happy she was when she saw the Alice In Wonderland statue. I thought about our conversation and couldn’t stop thinking about her. Fuck.
The next morning, I got up, showered, and noticed a smell infiltrating the penthouse. Was she cooking? I walked into the kitchen and found her at the stove in nothing but a pink, slightly sheer nightshirt.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Hey, good morning.” She turned around with a smile. “I’m making pancakes.”
I walked over to the Nespresso machine and made a cup of coffee.
“None for me. I have to get to the office.”
“It’s Sunday,” she spoke.
“I’m well aware of what day it is. Just because it’s Sunday doesn’t mean I don’t work.”
“Here’s the deal. I won’t say a word about you working on Sunday as long as you eat some breakfast first. If you don’t like pancakes, I can make you something else.”
I stared at her with a narrowed eye and grabbed my coffee cup.
“Fine. I’ll have pancakes. I haven’t had those in years.”
“Great.” She smiled and turned back to the stove. “They’ll be ready in a minute.”
I sat at the island and stared at her long, lean legs and the outline of her perfectly shaped ass through her nightshirt. My cock was starting to twitch, and I needed to divert my mind to something else.
“Where did you get the stuff to make the pancakes?” I asked.
“I had everything delivered, and Sammy was kind enough to bring the bags up for me.”
“I sure hope you were wearing something over that nightshirt.”
“I had my robe on, but then I got too hot.” She placed three neatly stacked pancakes on a plate, then walked to the refrigerator, grabbed a can of whipped cream, drew a smiley face on the top, and placed the plate in front of me.
“Seriously?” I looked at her.
“A smile first thing in the morning sets your tone for the day.” She grinned. “You should try it sometime.”
I clenched my jaw as I picked up the bottle of syrup and poured it over the pancakes.
“Did you find an Airbnb yet?” I asked.
“I found a couple of nice ones last night. I sent out emails, but I haven’t heard back yet.”
“Hopefully, you hear back today,” I spoke.
“I’m sure I will.”
“I hate to say this, but these pancakes are delicious.”
“Thanks, Damien.” She smiled. “Did it hurt you to say that?”
“A little.” I smiled.
“Look at that. You know you’re a lot sexier when you smile.” Her grin grew wider.
“Don’t get too used to it,” I spoke.
She laughed as she turned around and placed her plate in the dishwasher. As she cleaned the pan in the sink, I got up and placed my plate on the counter next to her.
“Excuse me,” she spoke.
“What?”
“You are more than capable of placing your plate in the dishwasher.” She started to laugh.
“What is so funny?”
She grabbed the kitchen towel and brought it up to my forehead. Instantly, I grabbed her wrist.
“You have a glob of whipped cream on your forehead. How did you manage that?” She continued to laugh as she wiped it off.
“I have no clue.” I laughed as I let go of her wrist.
Her laugh halted as we stared into each other’s eyes.
“I like your laugh, Mr. Prescott.”
I brought my hand up to her cheek as I stared at her beautiful lips. Slowly, we both leaned in, and our lips met for the first time. She dropped the towel and placed her arms around my neck as our soft kiss deepened.
“I’m sorry.” I pulled back. “I shouldn’t have done that.
“Don’t apologize. I wanted you to,” she whispered.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m more than sure.”
Our lips met again, and my hands traveled up her nightshirt and cupped her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.
A soft moan erupted from her as her hands tangled through my hair.
I placed my arms under her legs, picked her up, and carried her to my bedroom.
Setting her in front of the bed, I gripped the edge of her nightshirt and pulled it over her head.
My fingers traced the outline of her perfectly shaped breasts as her nipples hardened at my touch.