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“You wouldn’t have come.” He flips my hair away from my shoulder.
He’s right. Without a work-related motive, I don’t think I would’ve agreed to come here tonight.
“I can’t keep up with you,” I admit honestly. “You push and pull constantly.” Either toward him or far, far away from him.
“I don’t think you heard my warnings loud and clear. Sometimes you look at me like you want more.” He tips my chin with his forefinger, and I can’t think straight. I’m officially high off sexual tension and lust. “Do you want more?”
I shake my head, take a deep breath, and release. It shows my vulnerability, maybe even my eagerness to have sex with him, but I don’t relent.
“More of your body. I want more of your body.” For good measure, I add, “You’ll never have my heart—it belongs to the man back home.”
His face falls and the sideline of his jaw flexes. Then heweaves his fingers through my hair, holding me in place at the scalp.
Soft pink lips reach closer and closer, and my heart rate surges. I’m burning, my body humming with a tingling sensation, and he’s barely touched me.
If I’m going to hell for what I’m doing—if I’m betraying and breaking my loyalties—I better enjoy the taste of my sins.
So I let my hands wander in his hair, while he grabs my body to settle over his. The act itself lifts my skirt up quite high, enabling me to straddle him.
My sex is perfectly aligned with the rock-hard bulge at the front of his jeans, while my breasts heave against his muscled chest.
“Gemma...” He leans in, kissing my throat, and I burn up an extra fifty degrees.
God. Him.
“What you do to me.” Another kiss. “If I have to take another cold shower, I’ll catch pneumonia.”
I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be beaming at his revelation, but I am. Buzzing with need. Damon rarely gives, rarely compliments, so this means something to me.
He wants me.
And it makes me feel like I can take over the world.
My hand finally cups his face, my fingers skirting his clean jaw. “So soft,” I whisper, and he closes his eyes, dark lashes spiking up in greeting.
“You like it clean?”
He’s referring to his beard, of course. “You look younger without it. I feel like I can ask you anything... spill all my secrets.”
When he opens his eyes again, he takes my hand in his and kisses one finger at a time. “And the stubble?”
What can I say about his five-o’clock shadow? “I want to feel it all over me...”
He mumbles somethingunder his breath, and I lean forward, arms around his neck, staring at this beautiful specimen of a man.
Nice lips. Narrow dark, dark brown eyes. Frowning eyebrows. Fuck-me hair.
And his body? His body was made for sin. I don’t have to see him naked to know this man is rocking hard abs, among other things.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, eyes locked on my lips. Lips that he’s teasing with his thumb. Lips that are about to meet his.
I’m a pile of mush by the time he finally,finallymoves his mouth close to mine. He’s going to kiss me.
This. Is. It.
He holds my chin firmly with one hand until no distance remains between our lips, and they touch. A heat wave hits my insides. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I’m afraid I’ll get addicted. Like a lighter flicking booze roaming through my bloodstream.
Damon captures my lips with his, hands holding my neck in place. My breasts touch his chest, removing the remaining gap between us.
