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I remove the call display, eyeing the home background photo on my phone. It’s of Harvey, on one of our bike rides in a secluded area. I trace his smile as if it could bring it back onto his lips.
No such thing. Not anymore.
“Gemma . . .”
My heartthumps-thumps-thumps.
I can’t shake off these feelings. Talking to Damon is equivalent to jumping out of a plane. And that’s terribly, terribly dangerous.
“I am, but it’s almost midnight.”
“I can pick up something quick, or did you want to order a chicken salad from room service?” He probably saw me eating it at my desk a few times.
My body wants to invite him in so badly, because this is what he wants to know, isn’t it? My mind, however, is telling me not to do it, not to ruin what Harv and I have.
Had.
“Okay . . . come.”
I hear a small grunt before the call ends. I’m second-guessing my decision every step I take toward the hotel room door after he knocks.
Did it ever feel like this with Harvey? In the beginning? Even I can’t lie to myself. Everything with Damon is different, explosive. Everything ismore,and I’m afraid because that’s riskier than wanting to play around in the sheets.
Damon doesn’t strike me as someone who wants more.
I breathe and release, telling myself that I’ll use this opportunity to get to know him better.
I can control myself.
I open the door, and he’s standing there freshly showered; his dark hair ruffled up at the top. He’s in a black T-shirt and dark jeans, and I’m like a black wolf, unable to keep my mouth in check.
“I ordered already.”
He looks so different without his suit on, and by God, he smells like my next mistake. I want to push him on the bed and untie my robe. Instead, I sit on the bed as far from him as I possibly can while he sits on the couch located in the right corner of the room.
For a minute, we don’t say a word. All he does is let his gaze travel from my feet all the way up my legs.
I forgot that I wasn’t wearing anything under the robe. A hunger settles in the pit of my stomach, and the simple friction of sliding my legs against one another doesn’t provide me any relief.
“Are you deliberately trying to tease me?” He’s up and ready for the door.
“I can get under the covers until our food comes...” I leave the bed and walk up to him, offering my weak solution.
He should leave. Let him leave.
He scoffs. “Get under the covers? Gemma, all I canthinkabout is getting you under them.” He corners me against the wall, one hand on each side of my face.
I say nothing, absolutely nothing. I can’t even breathe.
I can’tbreathe.
Damon takes hormones and lust to a whole new stratosphere, and I don’t know if I even want to make it out untouched.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He shakes his head, tipping my chin up with his forefinger. “We can’t. You’re my assistant, and you’re very fucking taken.”
I gulp. How selfish of me to need a reminder, while Harvey’s sleeping peacefully and innocently in his bed.
Or so you think . . .
