Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“You were looking for me?” Damien says, shooting me a look before turning to Dad.
I find it difficult to read Damien’s expression.
Is he telling me to keep what we just did quiet?
If so, duh.
But I think there may be more there.
It’s like he’s trying to let me know something.
Maybe he thinks we should tell Dad. Maybe that’s the only way to get rid of this guilt.
He’s made me his girlfriend now, at least secretly, between us.
At least we have something to tell Dad now.
But I can’t bring myself to blurt it all out here.
“Saul was asking about the restaurant.”
“Ah, okay.”
When Damien turns, I feel my heart give a tremor as though willing him to stay, even if I know it’s impossible.
Dad offers me a smile – no clue what the heck we just did – and then leaves the room. I turn to the counter and grip the edge of it, trying to work out what to do next.
My body and wayward instincts are telling me to chase after him, sink my fingernails into his shoulders, and feel how firm he is again.
To kiss him, taste him.
My tongue tingles with the kiss, how sweet it felt to finally taste him, the way my body erupted into lust far fiercer than the texting could ever produce.
It makes me think about the other stuff we talked about, being naked, giving into our wildest lust-filled dreams.
Nerves hiss at the edge of my thought, a harsh voice is echoing that I’m going to disappoint him.
I watch as Dad, Saul, and Damien come into view out the window. I wonder how the rest of the party can’t see how tense Damien looks like he’s ready to explode out of his clothes.
I watch him, my heart skipping faster, my mouth dry, and my panties rubbing against my sex when I move so much as an inch.
My sex is sore, hungry to feel his touch the same way my hips did, my mouth.
All of me needs him, every part.
My mind, body, and my soul, if such a thing exists, and my children, his children, our future offspring.
During the conversation, he looks my way. His body gets even tenser. I’m surprised he doesn’t shatter the beer bottle he’s holding.
With a visible effort, he turns back to Dad and Saul.
I move away from the sink, going into the living room, hardly able to believe what just happened.
We kissed.
And it was better than I ever could’ve imagined. All those crush-fueled fantasies, all that insane want, but I never could’ve dreamed of this feeling.
I told him to text me about us meeting.
Maybe he will, and maybe I’ll agree.
But only so I can tell him in person this has to stop.
That’s what I tell myself, but I can’t ignore the little voice whispering in my mind.
Yeah, right, as if you want to stop…
That evening, I sit up in bed, scrolling through the restaurant’s Facebook page. It’s just hit ninety thousand followers, mostly because of a video Damien recorded under my instruction, a classy welcome into the restaurant as it’s being prepared.
As I watch the video, listening to Damien’s confident voice, looking at his smirking lips and somehow mischievous eyes, I find it difficult to match this man with the one who claimed me so possessively in the kitchen.
The more I think about the kiss, the more certain I become there was something real there, something similar to what I’m feeling.
It was as though I could sense his desire for a family, his need for a future together.
But that could simply be a case of me thinking too much about it. Maybe I’m adding things that weren’t there by dwelling on it so much.
We need to meet.
The text appears at the top of the video in the notification window.
I sit up, even more, squeezing the phone hard as though that will relieve some of the tension. The party’s over, the tidying up done, and I can hear Dad and Lacey downstairs. I remember how close Damien and I came to getting caught, Dad casually walking into the kitchen.
Why?
Because I have to see you. That’s why.
But what if somebody catches us?
I stare at the text for what feels like a long time, wondering if I should send it. I keep thinking about how we’ll be crossing a line if we arrange to meet.
But really, haven’t we crossed enough lines already?
We kissed in the freaking kitchen, with guests everywhere.
If Dad had walked in a few seconds earlier….
You can come to my place. I need to brush up on my culinary skills anyway.
A) I don’t believe that. And B) you’d really cook for me?
I’m GOING to cook for you. Come by tomorrow night.
But what about how wrong this is? We both know we should stop.
I CAN’T stop, Danielle. I’ll go insane if I try to resist you any longer.