Chapter 22
“I think I speak for all us girls when I say I hope this isn’t the last we see of you, Damien.” Isha smiles, acting as spokesperson for my trio of friends.
“I can assure you, wherever Layla wants me, I’ll be there.”
A flash of heat spreads from my chest outward when we lock eyes.
“Then, I suppose we’ll be seeing you soon,” Isha adds.
Before my friends make their exit, I catch the don’t-you-dare-go-to-sleep-without-calling-us looks they each cast my way, and I hold back a smile. Now, it’s just Damien and I standing in the lobby. He slips his hands into the pockets of his slacks, and I feel my skin heating under his stare.
“Did you drive?”
“No,” I answer, shaking my head. “I wasn’t sure how much I’d drink. Which reminds me, I should put in a ride request.”
I’ve barely gotten my fingers around my phone when Damien speaks again.
“Let me take you. It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
My lips part, like I’m certain I’m supposed to say something, like I’m certain I should turn down his offer. Only, I can’t seem to find those words. Instead, the one that slips from my lips is…
“Okay.”
An accomplished smile curves his lips, and I don’t even care that he’s just defeated my will. Having him show up tonight, at the precise moment I considered leaving, feels like… fate. Like, he’s the one who was meant to be here with me all along.
His hand settles against the small of my back, moving me toward the coat check as he lets out a quiet laugh.
“I probably should’ve disclosed this before you accepted my offer, but… I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t drive my car tonight. I brought my bike.”
There’s this sinking feeling in my stomach when he updates me, bringing to mind an image of him speeding out of the parking lot of The Jungle.
“I’ve… never been on one before.”
He tilts his head a little, and I don’t miss how he smirks as we move up in the line.
“Then, I’ll have to be gentle. Wouldn’t want your first time to be too rough.”
Heat burns across my cheeks as I fight a smile. “Cute.”
I peer up at him, finding him even more handsome than I realized before. It’s the hint of stubble highlighting the contours of an already godlike face. Needless to say, I quickly turn away before I’m caught.
Damien hands the woman behind the counter a ticket, and she leaves us to retrieve his things. While waiting, I force my eyes away from his, choosing instead to observe my surroundings—high-end furnishings, the tropical fish tank with LED backlighting, the bar.
And that’s when I feel my stomach twist into a knot.
Martinez is still here, drowning his feelings in whatever the bartender just poured into his glass.
“For you,” Damien says, luring my eyes back toward his as he holds the collar of a sleek, leather riding jacket. “You’ll be glad to have something covering your arms while we ride.”
It’s clearly a bit too big for me as I slip my arms inside, but I remember seeing it fit him like a glove.
“Thank you.”
He doesn’t speak, but more than once I’ve gotten the sense that he enjoys taking care of me. I feel it again now, as he gently tugs the collar higher, making sure my shoulders are fully covered. The leather is soft, and it holds his scent. As I turn, I breathe in his distinct aroma, the smoothness of his cologne. It’s masculine and subtle, and I’m already committed to not washing the scent off my skin before bed.
It isn’t until his brow arches that I realize he’s caught me sniffing the collar of the jacket.
“It… smells like you,” I admit.
“That’s a good thing, I hope.”
At first, I teeter my hand back and forth, insinuating that I’m on the fence about that, but my laugh makes it clear I’m only teasing. “It’s a good thing.”
His gaze is set on me, and the warm smile that curves his lips catches me off guard. You don’t look at him and think soft, but it becomes clear he’s a man of many faces.
A man capable of anything.
He grabs his helmet from the counter with one hand, then reaches for my hand with the other. Our fingers lace together, and it scares me that the inclination to shy away from his touch has faded. As we start toward the door, I glance toward Martinez again. This time, he sees me, likely making a million guesses about where my night with Damien is headed. But surprisingly, I don’t care that seeing me with someone else has gotten to him. Instead, I find myself clinging to Damien’s side even tighter.
We step out into the night air and our pace is unhurried as we stroll down the sidewalk, looking like the other normal couples we pass. However, I think we both know we’re anything but that.
A couple.
Normal.
“Did I do okay?”
I peer up when he asks. “With my friends? Are you kidding me? Pretty sure Dove considered slipping out of her engagement ring.”
He laughs, and the sound is deep and unmistakable.
“Now for the important question. On a scale from one to ten, how pissed are you that I’m here?”
I consider how to answer that. “I was a bit thrown off at first, but… I’m actually glad you came.” I swallow deeply after admitting that, feeling exposed and vulnerable in ways I often shy away from. “But while we’re on the topic, how the hell did you know where to find me tonight?”
This is the second time I’ve asked this question, but I’m almost positive he won’t give a reasonable answer. Then, when he offers nothing but a smirk, I’m certain of it.
“As long as you know that’s a little creepy,” I say under my breath, unsure why there’s currently a smile ghosting on my lips.
“As long as you know that won’t stop me.”
I’m not sure why, but I laugh. Most women would see his red flags and beg to be considered for the Witness Protection Program, but my weird ass is actually… flattered? Pleased with the idea of knowing that I’m almost always on his mind.
“This way,” he says, and I follow his lead when he takes me around the side of the building. But then I’m confused, holding my breath when he releases my hand and grips my waist as he spins me. My back presses against the lounge’s brick fa?ade and there’s this untamed look in Damien’s eyes.
A look that has my heart racing half a second before his lips are on mine.
The solid mass of his body is a wall of hot flesh and muscle I’d love to touch every-fucking-where. Our breathing deepens as I open my mouth, welcoming his tongue, not caring in the least that those walking past have a front-row view of what’s quickly becoming an R-rated moment.
“I’ve wanted to do this all… fucking… night.”
He breathes those words over my lips just before I steal another kiss. He draws me closer, and I imagine that having his lust reciprocated is the cause of the bulge that’s now throbbing against me. Deep down, I know I shouldn’t even be considering the idea of where things could go from here. But honestly? I’m no longer certain I’m strong enough to fight the pull.
The kiss ends, but his forehead is still pressed to mine, and breathing him in is perhaps even more intimate. The rawness of this moment, the thick, lust-infused air surrounding us… it’s almost too much to bear.
“I should… probably get you home,” he rasps, and I sense that the rest of that sentence might be something along the lines of “before we fuck in this alley and get charged with indecent exposure”.
I’m smiling, despite the strange feeling in my gut. It’s akin to guilt, brought on by having given Damien so much—my time, this kiss, my undivided attention. I shouldn’t be allowing him access to my thoughts, shouldn’t give any indication that I’m into him, or that his advances are working. Yet, when we peel ourselves apart and step away from the wall, I’m clinging to him even more than I’d been before.
We pause beside his bike, and I stand perfectly still as he gently removes the holder from around my ponytail. He secures the elastic band around his wrist before finger-combing my hair behind my shoulders, then places his helmet over my head. That sense of him always wanting to take care of me returns as he lowers the visor over my eyes with a coy grin.
He hops on first, letting me use his shoulders for balance as I swing one leg over the seat, and then lower onto it. I definitely wish I’d worn pants tonight—or even underwear—but I manage to mount the vibrating beast with surprising ease. And if I did happen to flash someone in the process? First look is free, I guess.
“Do I need to even waste my breath asking if you know where I live?”
Instead of using words to confirm what I’ve already guessed the answer will be, Damien glances at me from over his shoulder, smirks, then starts the engine.
Enough said.
I squeeze his waist with both arms, holding my clutch in one hand against his chest. I’ve got half a mind to tap out and tell him I’d rather just call for a ride, but before I get the chance, he takes off, pulling out onto the road.
My arms cinch around him even more and I rest my head against his back, part of me praying it’ll be over soon, part of me wanting it to last forever. It’s a rush and it’s terrifying at the same time.
Which is also how I’d sum up my feelings about him.
The city zips past in a blur as he speeds through traffic, weaving between cars, and narrowly making it through red lights. So much for popping my motorcycle-riding cherry gently, I guess. But since I know him to be a calculated man, I’m willing to bet scaring me half to death is part of the ploy to make me hold him tighter.
And it’s definitely working.
We stop at a light, and the idling engine makes the bike purr beneath me, vibrating up my legs, into my core. I let out a breath, and when I draw in another, I inhale his scent from the warm leather around my arms. My heart races so fast, I’m sure Damien can feel it pounding against his back. Still, I wonder if he knows that it has little to do with this death-defying race through downtown.
And has everything to do with him.
A sleek, black convertible comes to a slow stop beside us. Inside, a foursome of what I imagine to be college-aged girls hardly seem to even notice me, because their sole focus is lasered in on Damien.
The one in the passenger seat can barely close her full, glossed lips as she looks him over. It’s kind of hard to blame her for noticing what the rest of the world likely sees.
That he looks like fucking sex in a suit tonight.
Her window lowers and she smiles as she rests her elbow on the sill.
“Damn, mind if I climb on next?” Passenger-Seat-Princess asks. Then, she flips long, blonde hair over her shoulder as she eye-bangs Damien. “I’m told I ride pretty well.”
The others laugh, encouraging their “subtle” friend’s shitty behavior. It’s like I’m not even here, and being so blatantly disrespected stirs unexpected feelings inside me.
Jealousy.
Anger.
Damien’s eyes stay straight, never veering toward the car. It’s like he doesn’t even realize they’re there, but that doesn’t stop them from vying for his attention.
“First squeeze is free,” a brunette with a pixie cut shouts from the back, and my gaze shifts to her just as she turns toward the window, lifts her shirt, and flashes her tits.
I’ve done a good job of composing myself up until now, but I’ve reached my limit. My arms loosen around Damien’s waist, and I’m about to give these bitches the finger. They’ve earned at least that tonight. However, before I can get my hand free, Damien grips it, holding it against his torso. The feel of his slow, steady breaths against my palm relaxes me. At first, I think that’s his only objective, to calm me down, but then he pushes my hand lower, and I correct that thought. He doesn’t stop at his belt, going until my fingers graze the heat of his stiff cock, leaving his hand clasped over mine.
I grip him and squeeze as the sexual tension between us reaches a critical level. Meanwhile, the expressions of the girls beside us shift from childishly grinning when they thought they were ruining my night, to now looking like they’ve just eaten shit.
In a way, I suppose they have. Because without a word, Damien has sent them one hell of a powerful message.
That they don’t stand a fucking chance.
I smile behind the helmet as I move my hand over his cock, feeling where the length of it rests against his thigh. I savor the moment, stroking every solid inch of him as he casually returns his hands to the handlebars. While this display was definitely meant for them, I’ve taken something away from it too.
I consider how Martinez would’ve handled something like this. My guess is he would’ve at least smiled at the girls, or even responded with a wave under the guise of “being polite.” All while being completely aware of how he’s encouraging their behavior. Then, when the moment would have passed, I can imagine how he would’ve scolded me for being upset, accusing me of blowing things out of proportion.
But not Damien.
He’s possessive and protective in a way that’s both overwhelming and refreshing, letting the entire fucking world know that he believes I already belong to him.
The car takes off ahead of us as Passenger-Seat-Princess gives us the finger. They speed off, quickly becoming a memory. And while I’m pretty sure I should remove my hand from Damien’s dick now that the moment’s passed, I don’t. Instead, I stroke him a few seconds longer, and then let go, placing my hand on his solid torso again.
As expected, he pulls right onto my street without so much as a question as to whether this is the right place. He kills the engine as soon as we’re in the driveway. The light isn’t on in Dad’s study, so it’s safe to assume he’s gone to bed at a decent hour for once.
I climb off the bike, and I’m a little surprised when Damien does the same.
“Walking me to my door like a gentleman, I see.”
He slips both hands inside his pockets when he nods. “Of course. What do you take me for? A savage?”
It’s possibly the last glass of champagne at play, but I snort a little at the comment as we take the steps beside the garage up to my apartment.
“No way you just fucking laughed at that,” he teases, holding my back as I fumble inside my clutch for my keys.
“Come on. You have to see the irony in that statement.”
He doesn’t answer, but he’s a smart guy. He understands my meaning. From the woman who earns her living photographing actual proof that he’s not a gentleman, I’ve possibly got more right than anyone to call him out on this.
Once I have the door open, the vibe between us shifts. We’ve been flirty and rather hands-on this evening, and it has me more than a little turned on. But it’s never far from mind that Damien’s not the average, ordinary guy.
He’s innately dark and wicked beyond words. A nightmare despite having excellent genetics that make him practically irresistible in his expensive, tailored suit.
The very idea of a man like him can be summed up with one word—dangerous.
Still, there’s this pull toward him that has my limbs weak, has my body threatening to collide into his. It’s the reason my lips part to offer an invitation.
“You—”
“Goodnight, Layla.”
Damien’s words overshadow mine, so much that I’m not even sure he realizes that single syllable left my mouth. But he’s right. Our night should end here. It’s what’s best.
It’s what’s safe.
Giving the back of my neck a gentle squeeze, he places a single kiss on my forehead, contrasting the heat and urgency of the one we shared while pinned against the brick wall. And yet, somehow, this one’s better.
“Goodnight,” I force out, fighting the urge to say more, extend the invitation I intended to just a moment ago.
He turns to leave, and there’s an unmistakable ache in my gut as I step inside my place, twisting the lock, ensuring that I’ll spend tonight alone, wanting.
I step out of my heels, then my forehead falls against the door. My thoughts are utter chaos, matching my racing pulse, but I’ve done the right thing.
I’ve done the right thing.
Right?
My breathing sounds erratic as I begin to pace, at war within myself as I question whether I’ve made a mistake letting him go. Yes, I know he’s all bad, but that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about him at all the wrong times.
Hasn’t stopped me from wanting him.
Before I lose my nerve, I undo the lock and pull the door open, knowing my mind’s made up about chasing after him. But when I’m met by a wild gray stare, something’s become clear…
I won’t have to.
The beast I should be resisting, the one who’s brutality I’ve witnessed firsthand… is back, standing at my door. A million warning sirens sound off inside my head, because I’ve just become aware of a very pertinent fact.
Once I’ve had Damien, once his flesh and mine have intertwined in the most carnally satisfying way known to man… true addiction will undoubtedly take hold.
And if that happens, it may never let me go.