Chapter 30
Damian
Brielle’s hair tickles my nose, the scent of coconut and sunshine waking me up. She yawns widely against my chest, looking like a bear that’s just woken up from hibernation.
She’s fucking adorable.
“Good morning,” I whisper quietly to her. She snuggles in close to me, her arm wrapping around my chest like I’m her personal teddy bear.
“Morning. What time is it?”
“Almost 7:00 am.”
“Hmm. Five more minutes.”
“You know I would love to, but I have to get up. I’m meeting my father for breakfast this morning.”
“Ugh. Fine.” She rolls off me, and the loss of her body against me immediately makes me feel like I’m missing something. “Does he know about us yet?”
Brielle knows my father’s thoughts on relationships.
It’s something we’ve talked about before.
She knows that I’d stayed clear of telling him that I’m seeing someone because I know how he’ll react.
Even more so when I tell him that she’s one of my employees.
Just mentioning that I had an interest in someone was enough to make him lecture me about staying away from relationships.
“Kind of.”
Brielle levels a perfectly arched brow at me.
“Okay, not really. He knows there is someone, but I haven’t told him about you. I will though. I promise. Just not today. He has some things he’s dealing with right now, and I don’t want to add to it.” I lean over and kiss her. Her soft, warm lips nearly pull me back to her.
My father just found out that Cynthia is getting remarried, again.
His anti-relationship, anti-trust rhetoric is at an all-time high.
It’s something we’ve shared in the past, but things are different now.
If I tell him about Brielle, he’ll warn me away, as always.
I love my father, I respect him, but if he says one wrong thing about Brielle, I don’t think it’ll go well.
So instead, I’m staying silent on this, just a little while longer.
“And you know that I have that dinner tonight, right?” I ask, changing the subject.
“A real event this time? Not some made-up excuse to keep me away?” She smirks, calling me out on my bullshit from last week.
I lean down again to capture her lips. I can’t get enough of her. “Yes, a real event. I’m not letting you get away again. I’ve learned I’m not strong enough for it.”
“Good boy,” she croons. Just for that, I nip at her lip. I pull myself away before I fall right back into that bed and bury my cock inside of her.
“My mother set me up with a date for this,” I remind her.
“I know. Giana, right?”
“Yes. We’ve gone out before. I told you that, right?”
“You did.” Brielle nods. I can’t read her face, but I know this is probably awkward for her. Honestly, it is for me, too. To leave Brielle in my bed and have another woman on my arm tonight doesn’t sit well in my gut. I don’t want her to be upset.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask her again.
It isn’t just my father that I’ve been keeping this relationship from. I also haven’t mentioned anything to my mother.
I know her. She’d set up a dinner to meet Brielle. She’d pressure me to make it official, asking about the future and how many kids she wants. We’re in too precarious of a position to put that kind of pressure on ourselves, so I’ve stayed quiet.
“Of course.” She smiles at me.
I should be glad that Brielle is fine with me taking a date to an event.
I’ve never wanted to be tied down to someone before, to have to be accountable to someone else for my actions.
It’s why I’ve always agreed with my father that relationships weren’t for me.
He was afraid of what it would do to my business.
But me? I just liked the freedom of being on the market.
Instead, a feeling of discomfort spreads through me. Anxiety that she’s not as deep in this as I am.
I smile back at her before heading to the shower, an unsettled feeling roiling in my stomach.
The line to the valet seems to be taking an eternity to get through. The silence in the car is stifling.
We finally get to the front. The doorman opens the car door for Giana as I step out and hand the valet my keys and a twenty-dollar bill.
“You seem tense tonight, well, more tense than usual.” Giana rubs her hand up and down my arm, and I pull away quickly.
“Yes. I’m fine. These events are the bane of my existence, specifically political ones like tonight.”
The industry functions are hard enough to handle, but I understand the value of them and what good networking can do. Tonight’s affair is a fucking joke. A money-grabbing, campaign event meant to build favors that can be played and traded to manipulate the system to get your way.
I’ve never been one who enjoyed the politics of industry, and the more I see the inner working of lobbyists and regulations, the more I despise it.
Giana delicately folds her hand into the crook of my arm. The deep purple dress she’s wearing complements her dark skin. Her curly hair hits just above her shoulders. She blows every other woman in the room out of the water, but that’s only because Brielle isn’t here.
I check us in and find our table, pulling her chair out for her.
“Do you want a drink or anything?”
“The table wine is fine. Sit,” she says, patting the chair next to her.
I pour us each a glass of merlot from the bottle on the table and nearly jolt out of my seat when her hand lands on my thigh.
She removes her hand before I have a chance to and takes a sip of her wine.
The social hour seems to last an eternity. I take an hors d’oeuvres on the way by and two glasses of champagne.
Giana knocks back her glass before I’m even halfway done and collects another from the waitstaff as he traverses the room.
The ballroom is packed with people, all vying for their own agendas.
Everyone around me is playing some sort of game to get something they want.
I’m probably one of the youngest members in the room, which leads people to underestimate me.
They speak to me like they’re imparting some great wisdom when, in reality, they sound like a bunch of self-glorifying asses.
I really do hate these things.
Finally, the lights dim a couple of times, and everyone moves to take their seats. Giana takes a third—or fourth—glass of champagne before we make our way into the dining hall. The first of the speakers gets up, talking about all the amazing things the governor has done for us.
Giana’s hand caresses the back of my neck, her fingers threaded into the hair at the back of my head.
“Stop now,” I tell her, pulling away from her for the third time tonight.
“Your mother didn’t mention that you were seeing someone,” she says casually. “It can’t be that serious if you haven’t even told your family.”
“What makes you think that I’m with somebody?” I ask. She eyes me with bemusement, one brow raised. My skin heats, and I scratch the back of my neck. “It’s serious to me.”
“Then why am I on your arm tonight and not her?”
I take a sip of my wine, stalling. I’m well aware that anything I say has a chance of making it back to my mother. “It’s complicated.”
She places her hand on my thigh again. “I can handle complicated, Damian. We had a really good time last time.” She smirks, recalling the last event that I brought her to or, more specifically, how that night ended.
“I wasn’t involved with someone else last time.” My voice is getting colder. I remove her hand with a stern look.
“Damn. Did Damian Edgerton go and fall in love or something?”
I don’t answer her. I can’t. Not honestly anyway.
The speaker at the mic drones on, and I focus my attention on him, as if I actually give a shit what he’s talking about.
My foot taps on the floor, my knee bouncing with pent-up energy. I just want to leave, to get home to Brielle.
But she isn’t waiting for me at home. She doesn’t live there, even though she spends almost every night in my bed. When I get back to my apartment tonight, it’ll be to the sound of silence, a cold bed waiting for me.
A photographer comes to our table with a large camera around his neck. Giana pulls in close to me, her perky tits brush against my arm. Her hand goes to the back of my chair instead of my shoulder. She smiles at the camera, but as soon as he’s got his shot, she backs up again.
She plays the part for the rest of the night. Hanging on my arm, engaging in conversations, smiling and laughing at the not-funny jokes we have to listen to from the social elite.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” she asks quietly, her mouth pulled into a tight smile.
“I’ve been ready since we got here.”
A couple starts to approach us, but before they can get to us, I spin her around and head for the door. I’m not wasting another second making inane small talk with these people.
The valet brings my Mercedes around quickly. I open the door for her before rounding the car. Twenty minutes later, I pull up to her house and wish her a good night.
“One last chance. Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?”
“Positive,” I tell her. “Have a good night, Giana.”
She smiles, leaning in to place a light kiss to my cheek. “Have a good night, Damian.”
I wait until she gets in safely, then pull away, on my way to get where I really want to be.
Brielle’s apartment is on the other side of the city, and the pure number of people out and about makes everything move slower.
When I finally get there, there’s no place to park.
I travel up and down her block twice, looking for anywhere I can pull over.
I’m about to take my third time around when I spot someone.
“Hey,” I call out my window. “Pete.”
Pete throws his hand up in a wave, and I beckon him over.
“Mr. Edgerton, how are you tonight?”
“Fine. I need to ask you a favor though. I’ll give you two hundred dollars if you find a place to park my car and leave the keys and location in Brielle’s mailbox.”
He hesitates. “That feels a bit steep for valet service.”
“It’s an emergency.” I’m already getting the cash out of my wallet. I see him tracking the money, but he doesn’t make a move to take it. Instead, his eyes snap to mine.
“Is everything okay with Ms. Collins? You don’t need to give me anything, just go get to your lady.”
“Brielle’s fine. I’m just a very impatient man. Take this. Park her anywhere you can find a spot. Just let me know where she is,” I tell him, handing him the cash as I get out of the car. Someone behind me honks on their horn, but I ignore them.
Pete looks down at the cash again, then takes it and hops in my car. I don’t bother waiting to see where he goes before I head inside.
I pound on Brielle’s door, the sound louder than I expect. Feet scramble on the other side. A hard, deep voice calls through the door, “Who is it?”
I’d be concerned that she had a man in the apartment, if that sounded anything like an actual man’s voice. “Damian,” I chuckle.
“Oh, thank Christ.” The voice changes two octaves back to a normal speaking voice. Holly pulls the door open, a broom held tight in her grip.
She lets out a deep breath and points the broom handle at me like a lance. “You scared the shit out of us.”
“I’m sorry about that. Can I come in?”
“Boo, it’s just your man. You can come out now,” Holly yells, stepping aside to let me in.
Brielle pops her head out of her bedroom. A wide smile splits her face when she sees me. “I wasn’t hiding, just so you know,” she says. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and I place a soft kiss to her lips.
“I’m sure.” I grin.
“It was Holly’s turn to protect us from bad guys. I’ve got the next one.”
“Bullshit,” Holly calls from the kitchen, a pint of ice cream in her hand. “You’re never even here.”
“Am I interrupting your girls’ night? I don’t need to stay. I just dropped Giana off and wanted to see you.”
She kisses me again, deeper and longer than before. “You’re not interrupting anything. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah? You sure?” I ask, doubt creeping in.
Her brows furrow in question, confusion painted across her face.
“I’m taking this to my room. Have a good night, you two,” Holly says.
“Night, Hols.”
“Have a good night, Holly.”
Brielle turns back to me, stepping out of my arms. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing happened tonight… between me and Giana,” I spit out. The fact that it isn’t her first question or even a concern to her pisses me off.
“I didn’t ask if anything happened between the two of you,” she says slowly.
A flood of frustration pumps through me.
“I know. I know you didn’t ask. You didn’t even seem to care that I was taking another woman out for the night,” I grouch.
A wide grin spreads over her face. Apparently, she finds my misery amusing. “Were you upset that I wasn’t jealous?”
“No. Not upset. But if you were going out for the night with another guy, it’d be the last time that man was seen alive.”
“Damian.” She lifts to her toes and places a soft kiss to my jaw.
“There was nothing for me to be jealous of. I trust you, wholeheartedly. If I saw some woman trying to make a move while I was with you, yeah, I might not react well. Fucking Alessandra,” she mutters under her breath.
“But you are the most principled, honest, trustworthy person I have ever met.”
“You weren’t concerned that I’d take her home with me?”
“You bought me my favorite shampoo and conditioner to stay in your shower the other day. My toothbrush is in your bathroom. My underwear is in your laundry,” she says.
Her hand slides against my shirt, up and down my chest. My body reacts to it instantly, nerve endings lighting up in a dance for more of her.
“Damian, I’m not going to monitor your every move.
Because if I felt like I had to, then I wouldn’t be doing this with you. ”
“We’ve never talked about being exclusive.”
“Tell me something. Would you have hooked up with her if we weren’t together?”
This feels like a trap if I ever heard one. I proceed with caution, choosing to answer her honestly. “Probably.”
“And did you?” She wraps her arms around my neck, looking up at me with those sapphire eyes.
I grab the bottom of her ass and scoop her up. Her legs circle my waist as she clings to me. “I already told you that I didn’t. I wouldn’t. All I wanted to do was get home to you.” I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in.
“There isn’t anyone else for me either, just so you know. For however long we do this, it’s just us. No one else.”
“I know. You’re too nice to set someone up to be decimated like that.”
She throws her head back laughing. My ribs crack a little more, the beating in my chest tied directly to this woman. If I didn’t have Brielle, I’m not sure it would be beating at all.