CHAPTER 18—DAMIAN
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Maddie: Hey, you up?
Maddie: Damian?
AFTER WORKING AT THE shelter, I'm drifting in and out of sleep, my body on high alert even in rest - old habits die hard. The music helps, Johnny Cash's gravelly voice drowning out the echoes of old nightmares. It's almost Christmas, but the memories aren't as sharp as they used to be. Progress, I guess.
When the pounding on my door starts, I'm instantly awake, years of ingrained instincts snapping to attention, ready to protect, to defend. But it's not the noise that propels me—it's her voice, cutting through the fog of sleep like a blade.
"Hey! Damian!" Maddie calls out. It hits me like a sucker punch, that tremor in her voice. Something's wrong.
I'm out of bed in a flash, bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor. Three long strides and I'm at the door, yanking it open without a second thought. The rush of cooler air from the hallway raises goosebumps on my skin, and that's when I remember - I'm buck naked. Barkey, ever the loyal wingman, trots up behind me, tail wagging as he spots Maddie.
Maddie's eyes go wide, then drop south. Her gaze travels back up and down, slowly, like she's savoring every inch. When it locks onto my cock, already half-hard and getting harder by the second, I have to clench my jaw to hold back a groan.
"I, um..." she stammers, cheeks flushing a delicious pink that spreads down her neck.
"Spit it out, Princess," I growl, fighting the urge to drag her inside. My fingers twitch at my sides, itching to touch her. "Either we're running from a fire or-"
"You're naked," she blurts, eyes still glued to my crotch.
"Your journalistic skills are impressive," I deadpan. I had to decide between grabbing a towel and saving you. And saving you would always be top of the list." Maddie's eyes snap up to mine.
Before I can growl anything else, Barkey decides to join the party. He plops his favorite squeaky toy - a bright pink flamingo - right at Maddie's feet. Then he sits, looking expectantly between us like he's waiting for a standing ovation.
"Seriously, buddy?" I mutter. "Now?"
Maddie bursts out laughing. She bends down to scratch Barkey's ears, giving me an eyeful that does nothing to help my current state. "Good boy, Barkey. Way to break the tension."
I roll my eyes, but I can't help the grin tugging at my lips. "Traitors, both of you."
And then, she stands back up and licks her lips. Slowly. Deliberately.
I want to claim that mouth, feel those soft lips wrapped around my cock while she's on her knees, looking up at me with those big hazel eyes. The image alone nearly short-circuits my brain.
"Mads?" I manage to grunt, surprised I can still form words. "Are we taking the pets and running out of the building? Danger or no danger?"
She blinks, seeming to remember why she's here. "No danger. The music..." She winces, and I finally register the Johnny Cash song thumping through my apartment.
Shit. My Bluetooth must've disconnected, blasting at full volume. At three in the morning. I step away to grab a clean dishtowel from the kitchen—something to, well, cover me. Kind of.
"It's not just me I wanted to check on you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And well, it's Fluffy. Loud noises scare him, so...And I hate when he's hiding. His body shakes and if you stop the music he'll calm down. He always does. But I also know you need the music so I wanted to see if I could help. I don't know... it's silly. Especially because to calm down, he needs me to leave him alone for a bit."
Something in my chest tightens. This woman, who I once thought was solely focused on her career, on winning at all costs... she's here, in the middle of the night, worried about her damn cat. She's all soft marshmallow wrapped in soft curves with a spine made of steeled determination and resolve, and fuck if I don't want to be the one to hold her up for once.
I step back, gesturing for her to come in. "Let's see what we can do about that music. I'm so sorry." And about the way you're looking at me like you want to devour me whole. "And come on, Barkey, let's go to your favorite spot." I give the dog a treat in a Kong so he gets back into his favorite basket.
I half-expect her to rush back upstairs, but she doesn't. The door clicks shut behind us, and I kill the music. The sudden quiet is almost tangible, broken only by our breathing.
For a moment, we stand there. I'm acutely aware of every inch of my naked skin, of the cool air on my chest, of Maddie's gaze roaming over me. The tension builds, thick and heavy between us.
Then she moves. Slowly, deliberately, she reaches out. Her fingertips are warm as they make contact with my skin, leaving a trail of heat as she traces the lines of my tattoos. She explores each scar with a gentleness that makes my throat tight.
When her hand hovers over my heart, I can feel its wild rhythm under my ribs. Does she know what she's doing to me? How much power she has in this moment?
I can't take it anymore. I wrap my fingers around her wrist, feeling her pulse racing under my thumb. Her skin is soft, but I can feel the strength in her arm as I guide her back. One step, two, until her back meets the living room wall with a soft thud.
She looks up at me, those hazel eyes wide and dark. "Why the music?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I lean in close, my lips near her ear. The scent of her shampoo – vanilla like her vanilla/roses perfume - fills my nose. My skin prickles with awareness, every nerve ending on high alert.
"Helps me sleep," I admit, my voice rougher than I intended. The words scrape past the tightness in my throat.
I should stop here. I should step back, put some distance between us. But the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin under my hand - it's breaking down all my defenses. Years of keeping people at arm's length, of not letting anyone close enough to hurt me, and here I am, ready to spill my guts to this woman.
"There are other things I do when I can't sleep," I murmur, my lips brushing her earlobe. I feel her shiver, goosebumps rising on her skin, and it sends a jolt straight to my groin. My cock throbs, achingly hard. "Like jerk off thinking about the way you arch your back when you come."
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and charged. I can hear Maddie's sharp intake of breath, feel the way her body tenses against mine. For a moment, neither of us moves. The tick of the clock on the wall seems unnaturally loud in the silence.
Then she bites her lip, fighting a smile. Her teeth drag slowly over the soft flesh, and I'm transfixed. "I'd never trade your gift, but... I wish I'd gotten that Wonk-A-Willy Glow-in-the-dark. To feel you inside me whenever I want? Vampire 2.0's would have definitely gone into retirement."
A deep chuckle rumbles in my chest, surprise and desire mingling in my veins. This woman. Her fingers trail down my chest, slow and deliberate. Each touch leaves a trail of fire on my skin as I drop the flimsy pink dish towel. It was in the same wash where our laundry first mixed. Three months. A lifetime ago. Enough time to fall hard for the woman in front of me.
Her fingers brush against my cock, and it's like a match to gasoline. Every nerve in my body ignites, and I can't hold back the low, guttural growl that rips from my throat.
In one fluid motion, I grab her wrist and pin it above her head, pressing her back against the wall. The sudden movement forces a gasp from her lips, her eyes widening with a mix of surprise and hunger.
"Maddie," I rumble, my voice dark and dangerous even to my own ears. I lean in close, using my body to cage her in. The heat of her seeps through the thin fabric of her pajamas, and I can feel every curve pressed against me. "You're playing with fire here, Princess."
She tilts her chin up, defiant even as her pulse races under my grip. "Maybe I want to get burned, Bitey."
I press closer, my free hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. "You sure about that?"
Her breath hitches, a mix of mint and something sweeter flooding my senses. I can almost taste the want on her lips. "I'm sure," she whispers, her voice husky with desire. "I want you, Damian. All of you."
"Prove it," I growl, my lips brushing her ear. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."
She swallows hard, and I watch the movement of her throat with predatory focus. When she speaks, her voice is low and filled with heat. "I want your hands all over me, your mouth on my skin. I want you to make me scream your name. Please, Damian."
"Fuck," I groan, the word torn from deep in my chest. "Good girl."
It's raw need, lust, a claim. I want her like I've never wanted anyone before. Not just her body - though I want that too - but all of her. I want to draw out that throaty laugh, those surprised giggles that bubble up from nowhere. I want to be the one she can play F1 with or talk for hours or simply stay silent or watch those movies she loves. The one who gets to see all of her – not only the successful, perfect side she shows everyone, but her. The one who's there for her when she wins, when she doesn't, and everything in-between. Who believes in her and lifts her up.
"Damian," she whispers my name and this kiss? This kiss is all heat and hunger, teeth clashing and tongues battling. I pour every ounce of pent-up need into it, claiming her mouth like I've wanted to for months.
She responds with equal fervor, her free hand fisting in my hair, pulling me closer. I growl into her mouth, the slight pain only spurring me on.
My hand slides up under her shirt, calloused palm dragging against soft skin. When I reach her breast, I cup it roughly, swallowing her moan as I thumb her nipple to a hard peak.
I break the kiss, both of us panting. "I'm going to wreck you in the best possible way," I promise, my voice dark with intent. "Going to make you come so hard you see stars. And then I'm going do it again. And again."
Her body shudders against mine. "Yes," she gasps, her voice hoarse with want. "Please, yes."
I'm about to make good on my promise when...
"HEYYYYY!" Banging erupts at my door, the sound shattering our heated bubble like the roar of F1 engines at the starting line. A woman's voice, high-pitched and frantic, filters through the wood.
I freeze, my hand still splayed on Maddie's soft stomach, fingers hooked in the waistband of her ridiculous flannel pants. The contrasting textures - her silky skin and the worn cotton - ground me in the moment even as frustration bubbles up.
"Who the fuck is that?" I growl, low and annoyed. The last thing I want is to stop, not when I'm this close to having her again. My body thrums with need, every nerve ending screaming for more contact.
"Help!!! I need help! My sister is missing!" The voice outside ratchets up another notch, desperation bleeding through every word.
I watch as Maddie's face flushes, color spreading from her cheeks down her neck. "I know her," she whispers, her body tensing under my touch. "It's Rose, my sister."
"Why is she here?" Her voice trembles slightly, confusion and worry mixing in her tone.
The shift from heat to worry is fast, and I have to adjust, too. My body's still humming with the tension of what almost was, but now I'm on edge for a different reason.
"Hell if I know. But..."
"Please put something on," she murmurs, her eyes darting between me and the door, then back to my naked form.
I scan the room, spotting that damn pink towel. As I set it in front of me, I can't help but think this night's taken a turn I didn't see coming - like a hairpin bend on a rain-slicked track.
I grab the door, tension still coiled tight in my chest. When I swing it open, I'm greeted by a woman who's clearly frazzled—hair a mess, eyes wide with panic. She's got Maddie's eyes. But before I can even get a word out, she blurts out:
"Maddie's disappeared!"
I glance over my shoulder to where Maddie is very much not disappeared.
Her sister continues, not paying attention to anything. "Yes! I went upstairs, and the door was unlocked, Fluffy was there, but Maddie's gone! I've been calling her, and she's not answering, and I—"
"I'm here, uh. Definitely didn't disappear," Maddie says. "Please, tell me are you okay?" Maddie steps forward, her voice softening as she searches Rose's face. The humor in the air dissipates slightly as she focuses on her sister, clearly torn between embarrassment and worry. "I mean, aside from thinking I vanished in the middle of the night?
Rose's eyes flicker between Maddie and me, her expression cycling from panic to confusion to something that looks suspiciously like realization. I take in her appearance—disheveled hair, the hastily thrown-on coat, the mix of relief and suspicion in her eyes. "I'm fine. But you... you're here?" she repeats, looking like she might need a moment to reboot. "What are you doing here?" Her sister asks—like she's got a thousand questions.
Maddie tilts her head like answering questions in the middle of night is normal for them. "Just, you know, hanging out."
"Hanging out?" Rose echoes, glancing at the clock on her phone. "At three in the morning? In ..." She looks at me. "You're the vampire, right? Well that makes sense."
Maddie gives a nervous laugh. "Well, you know... Barkey was lonely, and, uh..."
I can't help but grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Barkey needed some company," I finish for her, enjoying the way Rose's eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "I did, too."
Maddie shakes her head. "I probably should see what's going on." And gives me a soft kiss on the cheek—the same kind I've been giving her and yep, we're definitely going to need a repeat. Thousands of them.