“Hey, D-boy, is something the matter? You seem a little ‘off’ today.” He takes a deep breath.
“Sorry, I’m just distracted. Noah got some bad news. Leyla … his little sister is sick and has to get some tests done.”
Even though he’s not saying it, I know it must be about money. Aria, Noah’s oldest sister is doing like three or so odd jobs already just to get by, so I’m guessing there’s definitely nothing left over for extras like medical tests.
It must be hard to worry about money all the time. Even though I’ve never been an excessive spending diva, and Uncle John made us work for our money, we’ve never felt the disadvantages of being poor.
“Hey, don’t worry about the money, we’ll figure it out, okay? I will help you.”
“Thanks, Sorella (Italian = sister), but I’m not worried about money. I’ve got enough.” Okay, maybe I assumed wrong. “The problem is that Aria is stubborn and proud. She doesn’t like just taking money from people for nothing, not even from me.” He gives me a lopsided grin and then concentrates on his driving again. We’re driving past the gate that leads to Damion’s house.
“So your restaurant plan -” a distraction ’cause something unfurls in my gut and I’m pretty sure it is nerves, “- is it like a five-year thing?”
“More like a dream-come-true thing.” His icy eyes get back a little bit of their sparkle. “I’m negotiating to buy out the shelter.”
“Wow,” Kiara gushes, “I’m so glad for you.” Me too. It seems as if he had a hard life. He deserves some happiness.
“Yeah, I’m not great at taking orders,” he sniggers. “Always wanted to be my own boss.”
We stop. I haven’t even noticed that we’ve pulled up to what must be Damion’s childhood home. I blink and glare through the window.
The scene unfolding in front of me is mesmerizing. A mansion hides in the shadow of a small mountain that runs deep into the ocean. On the other side, horses graze carefree in a paddock not far from me, drawing my eyes further to where green grass collides and disappears into a forest of trees. It must be one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, everything flows into one another as if it’s meant to be like that.
Even the people standing on the porch – framed by roses in all different colors – fit uncomplicated into the picture.
I get out but my feet get stuck to the ground. My eyes fly over the little boy making a beeline towards the car, the happy-looking couple, fitted into each other’s side in a tight embrace, to settle on the man with his hands propped into his jeans. He slowly descends down the stairs, barefoot, watching me in some strange way, like he was both happy to see me and surprised to feel that way.
My heart jumps and beats as if it’s racing down the track, aiming for gold. Rubbing a hand over my thundering chest, I wish the frickin organ would stop getting involved and just do its job – which is to pump blood at a normal rate.
My nipples twitch, my anus contracts and my gut turns – I’m sure I’m going to spill that delicious sandwich all over Kiara’s high heels. My middle brain is acting up again, this time both the hypothalamus and amygdala are mixing totally contradicting hormones simultaneously.
So on one side, there is salivation, sweating, and cutaneous vasodilation, with nipple erection as well as clitoral, labial, and vaginal engorgement. On the other accelerated breathing with dilated pupils and clammy hands. He scares me even more than a group of clowns.
Well, I’m not afraid of him so much as what he can do to me. This time he can devastate and level me. It peeves me to admit that he has a grip on my heart. Always had.
Oh, I tried my best to get over him, to rip him out … but he’s soul-deep. And that’s hard to disentomb.
“Hi, Sista, how’s things going?” Luke grabs me around my waist, but my eyes stay focused on the man stiffly shaking Alejandro’s hand. Haley and Deimos also walk closer.
“Good.” Hey, look at that. My voice sounds perfectly calm. Casual. Not at all as if my heart is about to pound right out of my chest. The heart I’m desperately trying to protect.
It will help if Damion doesn’t look so tall, strong, and attitude-riddled with his tight-fitting jeans and loose long-sleeved T. Not to mention that sinfully wavy dark hair my fingers itch to sink into it. He lets go of Alejandro and turns to hug Kiara.
“Alejandro, right? Welcome, son,” Haley grabs a super stiff D-Boy into a hug. She must be the warmest person with the biggest heart I know.
“Morning,” Deimos grabs the top of Alejandro’s arm. “Let’s go talk for a bit?” Both of them look a little tense.
“You guys go, I’ll bring some coffee around.” Alejandro nods and they walk away toward the back of the house. Jinx, without command, stays focused on his place by Alejandro’s side.
Damion, without a word, takes my hand and pulls me from Luke’s grip, straight into the house.
“I’ll just help Haley then!” Kiara giggle-shouts after us. We go straight up the stairs and into a room.
He abruptly drops me onto a bed with a black and gray quilt. The ash-colored walls contain some gray-scaled images of bikers and skateboarders doing stunts. Underneath some shelves hosting helmets and trophies is a motorbike converted into a table.
He locks the door.
He stares at me for a long beat, not saying a word, but I can see a tiny smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. His expression is far more genuine now. Warm. Which lead me to think other thoughts about that sexy mouth of his.
Like the way it kisses.
“Do you have any idea how fucking many times my brain got stuck on your un-virgin offer?” He takes a step to close the space between us, and I suck in my breath. Being this close to him, somehow always fries my brain and makes my body hum with anticipation and hunger and need. I fist my hands in his shirt, not sure if I want to pull him closer or shove him away.
I open my mouth to say something, but he growls and jabs me to him, putting his mouth over mine. A soft little sound escapes my throat I lift his shirt and move my hands underneath. His abs quiver at my touch.
I kiss him back. More than that, I press my curves right up against him – tight. With a groan, he wraps his arms around me and I can feel every contour of his hard body against mine.
Every hard inch.
His hands move up under my shirt until his fingers flicker right at the hem of my bra. I make another little sound, a hoarse mewl of pleasure, and with a soft “Fuck” he softly sweeps a thumb over my stiff nipple. He moans in my mouth, and an unexpected tenderness hits me hard … right in the chest … just as a fire explodes between my legs with a great need to be touched.
“Damion,” I whisper, and he blinks as if shocked to find me pressed down on the bed.
Underneath his shirt, one hand is resting over his heart, the other holding the waistband of his jeans. Am I doing this?
For a beat, we eyeball each other, both breathing heavily, neither moving.
My fingers itch to go south but instead, he rolls over to fall on his back on the mattress.
“Look – ” I try to access any part of my brain that’s not turned to mooch, “That – ”
“Was a mistake,” he says, pushing down his junk. “That’s what you were going to say, right?” Actually, no. “Sorry, I just lost control.” He sighs.
“I don’t want us to be about sex,” he says slowly turning his head, so we’re both lying on our backs, facing each other with looks of uncertain expressions.
“Although I would really like to fuck the sense out of you,” he says, blunt as always.
I can think of a million reasons in my mind why that is a very bad idea – one being that he’s going to hurt me so deeply I won’t ever find the light again. But my productive organs are too busy doing a mating dance while singing Hallelujah with my heart. The same heart that keeps falling for him over and over again. And I hate feeling so damn weak and vulnerable.