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I really hate to admit this to myself, but I kind of like her.
“Wow, I’m so glad to know that you think so highly of me.” Damien places his hand over his chest as if to say he’s wounded by her words, even though I know he’s teasing. “Damien Henderson, by the way, nice to meet you.”
It feels good, to be able to stand in the same room all together, and not feel the suffocating pain and hate that’s hovered over us like a dark black cloud for nearly ten years.
I feel lighter than I have since, well, I can’t even remember. How long has this been weighing on me without my knowledge? Even when I thought I’d put it to rest, I hadn’t. It was still there, sucking life and joy out of me.
I don’t want to give hate that much of a hold over my life anymore.
Casey’s cheeks flush ever so slightly under Damien’s gaze.
“Oh, she thinks highly of you, all right.” Tyler laughs from behind her, and she shrugs unashamedly.
“The towel cover. You took that photo, right? You freaking nailed it.” Her lips tilt up into a grin, that says she would eat a lesser man for lunch and not think twice.
Oh, the infamous towel cover. I can’t help but smile to myself. Half of the country has seen my husband in a towel, and I have to agree that it was a glorious sight. I don’t know which was more fun, Damien’s initial reaction to it, or the reaction he has every single time someone brings it up. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, honestly.
A few months back I was contacted by Sports National. They needed a portfolio of photos of Damien for a story they were doing on him. With the potential for a Cup win this year, they were highlighting some of the starting players on the Renegades. I might have not so accidentally slipped in a photo of him wearing nothing but a towel. That photo might have ended up on the cover of the magazine.
It was from my personal collection; I took liberties.
“Thanks, it was some of my best work.” I smile, and finally feel myself start to loosen up. This feels right. This is how it was always supposed to be. “Listen, um…why don’t you guys come in and have a seat? I know a little girl that you need to meet.”
Epilogue
Damien
“It’s cute that you think you’re in charge.” She says slyly as she takes the room key from my hand and slides it over the scanner on the door.
I don’t say anything when the light turns green. She turns the handle and pushes the door open, revealing our suite for the night. I spared no expense in booking this room. She deserves nothing but the best, and I intend to give it to her.
“Wow, Damien, this is stunning,” she slips out of her persona, stepping fully into the room and marveling at the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city down below.
I flip the lock on the door as it closes behind us. My body vibrates with post-game adrenaline that has nowhere to go.
We fucking won.
I wouldn’t be here without the woman standing in front of me.
I waste no time eating up the space between us. I hook my finger through the loop of her painted-on jeans and yank her backward until her back is pressed flush against my chest.
I run my hands over her body, starting at her thighs and moving up, up…only pausing long enough to pop the button on her jeans and shove them down her thighs. I splay my hands over her soft stomach, inching my way up until I reach the white lace of her top.
This damn top has been teasing me from the moment she walked into the bar tonight. She lifts her arms, reaching over her head seductively, and wraps her hands behind my neck. She arches her back into me, and the movement sets my blood on fire.
I run the palm of my hand over the lace material covering her breasts until I feel her nipples harden beneath my touch, only then do I reach inside and pull them out, putting them on full display.
We’re close enough to the window that there’s a chance we could be caught, but far enough away that it’s unlikely. The risk, albeit slight, only hitches my desire for her higher.
I massage her perfect tits in my hands, rolling her hardened nipples between my fingers and pinching until she hisses my name.
“Damien,” she tosses her head back into my neck. Her fingers tangle in my long hair.
“I know what you want, baby.” My voice is raw as I drag my hand up to her throat, wrapping my fingers around her neck.
My other hand snakes down her belly. I slide two fingers over her clit, noting just how wet she is for me already. I tease the hardened nub briefly but don’t stop until I’m sliding into her warm, wet opening.
Her hips buck into my hand, and I tighten my hold on her neck. I feel the ripple of her throat as she moans, and the vibrations rattle the palm of my hand.
