Chapter 27
Ellie
“But that doesn’t change anything.”
Damien’s words, two statements with far too much space between them, both stop and restart my heart again all within less than five seconds. When I don’t say anything, he turns back to face me again, probably to see if I am still breathing.
“So, you’re not going to fire me?” I ask.
“Of course I’m not going to fire you, Annelise. For one, it’s not ethical. Being a mother is not grounds for termination. Why would it matter to me if you have kids?”
“Well, as you now know, I’m a single mother. I have a sister in town that helps me, but other than that, all my sitters as well as before and after school care are services I have to pay for. That’s another reason money has been so tight for me. Hence the modest rental we live in.”
Damien walks back over and bends down. He takes me by the hands and pulls me to my feet.
“There is nothing wrong with where you live. And I apologize for never actually reading your resume. I guess you could say I have a different hiring process. I can usually tell if someone is going to work out just by meeting them.”
“Because of the benefits clause?” I ask. I’m only half teasing, but Damien is dead serious when he answers me.
“No. Not completely anyway. You walked into my office with confidence. I could tell you were nervous, but I could also tell that you wanted the job. Not just that, but you knew you could do the job. Your attention to detail was impeccable. Your focus was second only to mine, and you haven’t disappointed me since.
In any way. So no, Miss Bates. I regret to inform you that you are stuck in a contract with me for the foreseeable future. ”
My lips crawl into a slow smirk, and I fight the tears burning the back of my eyes. “You don’t care that I have a son?”
“Honestly, I admire you for it,” Damien answers. “It explains why you’re so good under stress, but also why you get flustered when I ask you to work the night shifts.”
“It does make it kind of hard when I have to find someone to watch him on short notice,” I admit.
“I will be more mindful of that.”
The conversation ends after that, sealed with a kiss. I lean into it, body and soul, knowing full well that it’s still not entirely wise to let feelings interfere with the contract, but also not really caring in the moment.
This time, it is me who leads him to the bedroom. I guide him down the small hallway and close the blinds before pulling my faded Ramones shirt off. Damien pulls me in for another kiss, his hands tracing my curves softly enough to make me giggle and raising every tiny hair on my body.
I lay back on the bed, and he tugs my cotton shorts off, kissing the inside of my ankle and up my calf, over my knee and further north. He hovers over my pussy, his hot breath penetrating through my satin panties, making me wet.
“Sorry I’m not in lingerie,” I whisper, waiting for the contact.
“We are off the clock, Miss Bates. Formality isn’t necessary.”
I am not entirely sure what that means, but it makes my heart pitter-patter in my chest like the wings of a hummingbird.
I also don’t care right now. Damien continues north, skipping the anticipated contact altogether, and kisses my stomach and the swell of my chest. He is purposely avoiding all the spots that he knows will drive me wild.
Maybe he’s trying to tease me. Maybe he actually wants to go slower this time.
I’m not sure, but I’m also not complaining.
Damien stands and slowly strips down to his black boxer briefs.
I can see his dick under the stretched cotton.
He’s hard for sure, but his attention is elsewhere.
On me. He sits down on the bed and lays back, and I crawl towards him.
This time, I kiss him, starting with his mouth, down his jawline, his neck and his chest. I take my time kissing each ab until I get lower and lower, teasing the skin around his waistline, watching him tense under my touch.
I am on all fours, crouching over him. The idea of his cock, hard and smooth and dripping, in my mouth makes me wetter by the second.
“Fuck me,” he groans as I kiss below his navel. His hands reach up to hold my hair back. He drapes it over one shoulder, exposing the other. Then he uses a finger to draw a tiny circle on my shoulder blade, right where the tattoo is. “Mariposa…”
Suddenly I stop. My mind flashes with a memory. A memory of that word coming from the mouth of a masked man in a dark corner of a hotel. It wasn’t the Redwood, but…
Wait.
My eyes dart to his hip. To the star-like pattern. Another memory surfaces in my vision. It can’t be. Can it?
“What’s the matter, Ellie?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbows. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m starting to wonder if I have.” I say, knowing just how crazy I sound. But I know I’m not.
I look up at him and inch forward. Then I raise my hand to his face. I cover half of it, leaving my fingers parted for his eye, and I gasp. “It’s you.”
Damien sits up. “What are you talking about?”
“You were at the masquerade,” I tell him.
“What masquerade? When?” Damien sits all the way up. I stand up and run my hands through my hair; holding them on my head for a moment.
“The charity gala. It was open to the public, and my sister Rachel dragged me there because I’d just gone through a breakup. I saw my ex, and a man came over, a man who worked there, to make sure I was okay. He got me another drink and took me to the VIP section of the hotel and then…we…”
“Shit,” Damien whispers. I look at him and search his eyes to see if I am wrong. Because if I am right, this is all a very, very wild coincidence.
“I’m right…aren’t I?” I ask carefully as my heart hammers into my ribcage.
But Damien doesn’t answer. He simply gets up and puts his clothes back on.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Home,” he says as he buttons his shirt in record time.
“So you’re not denying it,” I say, following him out into the living room.
“What is there to deny?” he asks without looking at me. Then he just turns and starts walking toward the door. The words he says next aren’t exactly what I am hoping for. “I’ll see you at the office.”
With that, he’s gone. For a moment, I just stand in my kitchen in my underwear. On the upside, he implied I still have a job. But at the same time, he admitted that it was him I was with six years ago. It makes sense because that hotel is a sister hotel to the Redwood.
“Fuck!” I let out, pressing the heels of my palms to my eyes.
How did I not think about that? Worse yet, how did I actually manage to reverse Cinderella this shit?
In my defense, I was distraught and slightly drunk that night, but still.
You would think that the best sex of my life with the hottest man I’ve ever been with would be so memorable that I would recognize him if I saw him again, mask or not.
That night changed my life in more ways than one.
It rekindled my faith that not all men are selfish lovers.
It reminded me what it means to be with a dominant man who knows what he wants and knows what women need.
It’s also the night that I am almost completely without a doubt certain resulted in my pregnancy.
I stumble over to the couch and collapse onto it as my brain connects the string of staggered dots.
I had sex with a hotel owner that night.
That hotel owner was apparently Damien Graves.
I got pregnant with Luca that night.
Which means…
“Damien is Luca’s father.”