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I grab a pillow, holding on tightly, knowing today will be completely different from last night with him. Memories of me basically telling him I fell for him should make me cringe, but I’m kind of relieved.
And wishing it won’t make him run away.
I curse when I see the time on my phone. I have to hurry—we have a morning meeting before attending the second day of the conference.
Damon left me two aspirins next to a water bottle, so I take them both, touched by his silent gesture.
I’m out of the shower by the time I hear a knock on the door. Damon’s handsome, freshly showered self appears in my doorway.
“Ready? We need to leave.” He checks his watch as he steps inside my room. “In two minutes.”
I had the chance to fix my hair and put on some makeup, but I still need to dress. I hear the door close as I walk to the bed, eyeing the off-white lacy blouse with the matching tank top and a fitted black skirt.
“Two minutes?” I ask him, dropping the towel.
There’s an edge to his stare when his gaze roams over my body, the tightness of his sculpted jaw visible from a yard away. If I’m not mistaken, I see the tiniest curve in the corner of hislips, as if he’s fighting hard to contain a smirk, like he admires my tenacity.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t known what I was doing with my life since before the accident, nor have I known where I was heading after it. But I especially don’t know what I’m doing—at all—around Damon.
I should be figuring things out with Harvey. That’s what loyal people do. They work for their relationships even if it’s the one thing drowning them.
Instead, I’m here, naked and eager for Damon.
I feel less guilt about it than I used to. Perhaps we really can adapt to anything life throws at us. Or maybe the guilt is easier to bury when I’m so far away from Harv.
I grab my dark-green thong, pulling it up my lotion-soft legs. My body feels like it’s trembling when he takes slow, leisurely steps toward me.
The suit, his walk, his gorgeous face. Everything from his watch to the carved frown of his eyebrows contributes to his powerful allure.
His body leans against mine from behind. He directs my hands on the bed, leaning me forward. Then he hunches down to reach for my thong around my knees, bringing it up to my inner thighs.
I suck in a breath, my nipples perky and cold when his hand caresses my ass before he palms my pussy from behind. I whimper in painful agony, wishing he could slip inside me and rid me of this pleasurable misery.
“You know what I want to know?” he asks, his voice thick and hoarse.
I release a loud exhale, waiting for his hand cupping me down there to do something—anything.
“How far would you be willing to go to feel a high, Gemma?”
I ponder his question for what feels like minutes. The silence roams around us. His hand leaves my sex, grabbing my ass instead, then he smacks it, hard, before he fingers the curve of my spine.
“Far,” my voice comes out, reeking of desperation.
“Far?”
I nod. “I don’t have limits.”
“Oh, baby, everybody has limits.”
I turn my head. “I’d go far with you, Damon.”
My answer seems to appease something in him. I see it in the way his face relaxes. He seems less tense, content, as if he admires me.
Then he pulls my thong all the way up and twirls me around to face him.
“Hurry. Julia will be waiting downstairs soon.” He grabs my nipple ring, earning a head tilt and several swallows, because I really want him. “Will you be soaked for me all day?” He traces a finger over my thong.
Even through the fabric, I’m ready to combust, to lose my mind, my sanity, to end up secluded between four white walls for the sake of his touch.
