Page 12 of Damian’s Conquest

“Ouch,” Naomi cried out and turned to Lydia. “Somebody just stepped on my foot.”

“It’s a hazard in here. Most guys have two left feet.”

“Now I really need a drink.” She smiled at Lydia. “Do you think you could order me a martini, while I hobble after you?”

“Sure. With olives or a twist?”

“Two olives, thanks.” The lie worked.

The moment Lydia turned away and made her way to the bar, Naomi headed in the other direction. She wanted to walk around the dance floor to get to the other side of the club where the exit was located. But she spotted Damian standing only a few yards away from her, talking to another guy dressed as a vampire. Shit! Had he fixed the microphone already and was on his way back?

Naomi quickly turned on her heel and headed onto the dance floor to disappear amidst the crowd. The clubbers danced to a popular eighties pop song, and she tried as best she could to avoid elbows and feet. She was almost at the edge of the dance floor, when somebody to her left gripped her arm.

She spun her head toward him. Damian! How had he gotten to her so quickly when he’d been all the way at the other end?

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” he asked and pulled her into his arms. “’Cause, you and I, we’re not done.” He rocked to the rhythm of the music, his arms snaking underneath her cape to hold her close to him, while the cape hid what he was doing.

“I was just… I thought…” But just like earlier, she couldn’t think. Not with his hands on her, one palming her buttocks, the other stroking up the side of her torso toward her breasts.

“Dance with me,” he murmured seductively.

“You could dance with any woman here,” she protested weakly.

He chuckled and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Why would I do that when I already have what I want in my arms?”

Maybe taking his offer wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, it would give her a chance to find out more about him and whatever was going on at the Mezzanine. Or was her reason more personal? Was the reason for staying that she wanted to let herself go in his arms, if only for a night, just to experience being desired by a gorgeous hunk? But did Damian only want her, because whomever he’d flirted with earlier had perhaps rejected him? Was she too easy?

Damian pressed his cheek to hers. “I enjoyed touching you. And I don’t want the night to end.”

“Damian,” she murmured, her hand on his biceps tightening. “I gave you an out. You could have just let me leave. We both know I can’t compete with the kind of girl I saw you flirt with earlier.”

“You saw me flirt with somebody?”

“Yeah, and why wouldn’t you? I’m sure you get plenty of offers every night. So, really, you don’t have to follow through with this, just because we kissed earlier and it got a little out of hand.”

“So that’s what you’re calling it when you’re a few minutes away from climaxing.”

She jerked back, stunned that he’d been able to read her so well. But of course, she couldn’t admit that. “I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t? I apologize. That means I’ll have to work harder on making sure you come, because I don’t want to be the only one climaxing when we’re in bed together.”

Naomi gasped, though she liked his directness. He made it very clear what he wanted from her. He was different from other men who claimed they wanted to take it slow, only to steamroll her with their next breath.

“You’re very sure of yourself,” she said into his ear. “I hope you can deliver.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“What if it is?” Because suddenly she was eager to explore what he was capable of. It was as if a little devil was sitting on her shoulder, urging her on to do something naughty and brazen.

Damian laughed softly. “Then I’m very grateful that we’re both wearing capes.”

All of a sudden, the music changed, and Naomi realized that Lydia was on stage and had started to sing a love song. The lights dimmed over the dance floor.

“You can’t just… we’re in public,” Naomi protested.

Yet she didn’t stop him when he started caressing her under the cape. “Nobody can see what I’m doing. All you have to do now is to make sure you hold our capes together. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“You’re wicked,” she said, but clutched the fabric and held the capes together. She was certain that anybody looking at them had to suspect that something was happening underneath the capes. Why didn’t Damian seem to care about that? After all, everybody in the club knew who he was. Wouldn’t he ruin his chances with other women by this public show of… well, she wanted to say affection, but that couldn’t be it. She searched for a better word. Public show of, uh, lust. Right. That’s what it was. Had to be.