I’m not sure exactly what happened. Or how. But I think we’ve just made a date.
A small, inarticulate sound escapes from my throat, and for a beat, he goes still as if taking it in. Then he presses his mouth to the sweet spot right beneath my ear, dragging out the same sound again.
Date = 9 November
Place = San Francisco (Damion’s house)
POV – Melaena
I wake up clinging to a pillow that smells like Damion and I take a deep breath, enjoying the familiar fragrance. What a great dream – I kissed Damion. Not that I haven’t dreamed it before, but this time is different – it felt more real. I softly touch my lips. So real.
I roll onto my back with a big smile and open my eyes slowly, not wanting to let this dream end.
“Good, you’re up.” I look lovingly at the guy sitting on the side of the bed. This really is an almost perfect dream.
“I was getting tired of your snoring.” I jump up, pulling the covers with me. I look around frantically. This is not my room. And just like that, reality hits me and the asshole is back.
“I don’t snore!” He laughs and then hands me a cup of coffee. My mind is looping trying to decode what’s real and what’s not.
I eagerly take a sip of the hot beverage. If I ever needed a cup of coffee it would be right now. Hell, I think I need a whole pot today, not just a cup.
“You drool too, little angel. Probably from dreaming about me naked.” His nickname for me somehow always makes me feel special like I belong to him somehow. Well, at least it’s 100% better than ‘babe’.
“Gmf!” I snort, but he’s not far from being wrong about my dream. I’m just not sure right now what parts were real.
“I see you still wake up the same way,” he says.
“And what way would that be exactly?”
“You always wake up friendly, as if you’re stuck in a beautiful dream, and it takes you a few minutes to observe your circumstances, and then you’re just pissed and grumpy.”
I take a sip of coffee and tilt my head, shoving my chin out a little defiantly.
“I’m only pissed and grumpy when you’re around when I open my eyes.”
“Well, you sure as hell is gonna be waking up grumpy a lot then from now on.”
“What?” He chuckles and leans over pressing his mouth in my neck.
Holy cow, I’m melting.
“You’re going to wake up in my bed a lot from now on. You did ask me to teach you things, remember? Frick, so that was no dream either. What the hell was I thinking? Oh, yeah, that’s right … my stupid brain turns to mooch whenever he’s around. He nibbles my skin and my limbs go all noodly. So does my stupid body.
“Stop! I can’t think when you -” He takes the lob of my ear in his mouth and suck. Unable to stop myself, I sink back against his body, closing my eyes at his soft teasing laugh.
There is no doubt that Damion can teach me more things than I need to know. And I will most likely have a pretty good time learning them. But I’ve seen his habits over the years, and they don’t involve being friends with the women he sleeps with. And even though I’m not his friend, my brothers are. So I should squelch these occasional yearnings and get the hell out of here.
“I think I … mmm … should go … eh …” He stops his seduction, pulls away, and stands up. I groan at the loss.
“You promised to have lunch with me,” he chuckles. “You gave me five meals to make you fall in love with me.” And the whole of last night rushes into my mind. I did all … he did … no … we did all that. I feel the blush warming my cheeks.
“Anyway, I’ve phoned that nice professor of yours, Anne, and explained that you’re going to take a day off due to family trauma. She was so nice about it. Told me to look after you cause you’re special or something. Has she met the real you?”
I stare at him as if he’s gone insane. He has this gawky, goofy expression on his too-handsome face. Yep, he’s definitely nuts, but he’s the hottest, most bewildering nut I’ve ever seen in my life.
“What? Anne never lets anyone skip class.”
“I think she likes me!” Oh boy, nobody can be more obnoxious than this guy right here, and immediately I’m even more irked.
“Damion, you can’t just organize my life without asking me!” He ignores my statement flat and just continues.
“I picked up some clothes. We ran out of milk.” I look in the bag and find a pair of jeans, some underwear, skimpy denim shorts, and a bikini.
“Kiara let me in.”
“There are no shirts,” I say placidly wondering who packed this bag – Kiara or him. But I want to believe that my best friend won’t send me something that covers less than 10% of my body on purpose. And she would never forget to pack shirts.
“Yes, I know.” Not exactly clearing it up. “You can wear mine.”
He takes out my bra and holds it up in the air. “I’m going to guess we’re dealing with a C.” He looks smug and very self-confident. Then he looks at the size on the label and his smile grows substantially.
“So, 32-C. I’m so fucking good and it’s a perfect size – a Grimm hand-full. See, we were meant for each other.” He holds his hands up, cupping them as if he’s measuring them to my boobs.
I pick up a pillow and throw it at his egotistical head while screaming in frustration. He ducks, catching the pillow, the smirk still on his face.
“Ug, you’re so frickin annoying!” This time I throw him with my empty coffee cup. He catches it easily too, no surprise there.
“Get dressed, I have a plane to catch tonight, and I don’t want to waste a second.” He holds out my bikini. I want to show you something on the beach, and then we’ll come back for brunch.” I take the skimpy swimsuit and wonder if he realizes it’s about winter outside.
He never asks, he just commands. Exactly like my brothers. Always telling me what to do as if I don’t have a choice. Cocky bastards the lot of them. Yeah, I normally don’t do as they say if I don’t want to, but it would be nice of them to ask for a change.
“Yes, sir.” I do a bitchy salute with a grim expression. He glares at me for a beat, his face vacant.
“If you don’t want to go out, we could do something else.” He looks like a little boy that got scolded and my heart jumps and softens. He’s so damn confusing. One moment I want to strangle that handsome neck, then I want to cuddle him like a bear, and next, I want to lick him like a lollipop.
“No,” I say, “I want to go see the thing you want to show me.”
“But? You said it as if it needed a but …” His words are a direct hit to my already fragile state of mind. If we’re playing a game I need to know the rules this time. Is this another us-at-the-zoo day that ends when he flies off? Or should I risk my heart again?