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“I figured as much. You look like you’re about to get off from the simple thought of jumping out of this plane.”
I expertly avoid his gaze to keep myself in check, hoping he fails to notice my flaming cheeks. Instead, I tell him in the most nonchalant tone ever what I do love.
“Especially sports bikes... but also bungee jumping, skydiving, wingsuit flying, anything with height or speed—I’m in.”
“Have you tried the Chicago Ledge and Tilt?”
I nod. “I sure did.”
For the first time since I met him, he gives me a megawatt smile. A smile that could convince the most innocent woman to join the devil’s playground.
Before I have the chance to explore this smile of his, we’re interrupted.
“Good evening, Mr. Dreygon.” A pretty blonde with a southern accent greets him with eager eyes. I doubt he’ll bite.
Does Damon even know how to flirt?
He’s a quiet flirt. You would know.
“I’ll be at your service tonight. Anything you need, I’ll be happy to help!” She looks at me rapidly, and her eyes are back on my boss in the blink of an eye.
I kind of regret taking the window seat now that her arm is leaning on Damon’s chair and she’s bending forward to speak.
He turns to me, his face as expressionless and stoic as ever. “Anything to drink, Gemma?”
The way he says my name should be a mortal sin. It sounds like forbidden fucking.
Stop,stop.
“Glass of wine?” He probes. I’m more of a beer girl, but I shake my head because I’m tired already.
“One glass of Screaming Eagle sauvignon blanc,” he tells her while turning to face me. She turns red, a feeling of euphoria washing through my core at his dismissal.
We talk about sport bikes, and he tells me that he sold hisa few years back. He doesn’t seem like the type to own a bike, and I find him even more attractive for it.
“How come?” I’m fingering the pages of my book to keep myself busy while I wait for his answer. My heart is beating erratically. We’re only talking, but my arteries, my tongue, mythighsare on fire. Burning up so bad I want to set my body free.
He shrugs. “Almost got into an accident. That was the end for me. I decided to get my thrill with fast cars instead.”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat. How pathetic to get this emotional over a simple passion that I used to love? Or maybe it has nothing to do with the bike and everything to do with the freedom that I lost.
I’m glad he doesn’t ask about my bike. It might lead to many questions I prefer not to answer.
“You don’t strike me as a junkie.”
“Who says I am?” His brow rises, challenging me, and I bite. Oh God, I gladly bite.
“Well... are you?” I make myself comfortable in my seat using the blanket they handed me before takeoff.
“I get my high off other things . . .”
“From drugs?” I ask innocently.
“I’ve experimented. But don’t play coy; you know what I’m talking about.” The way he eyes me makes me forget who awaits me back home. Makes me forget that I shouldn’t want his eyes roaming over my figure, that I shouldn’t want his lips to steal a taste.
He’s talking about sex. And I bet he’d be good at it too.
One look at him, and knowing how he talks, makes decisions, leads, and operates on a daily basis, I already know that he’d be master of the bedroom.
