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)
Ever.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Danielle
“You don’t have to,” he says as I pick up his plate.
I throw him a look, once again struck by how domestic and homely this feels. It’s like what we talked about, how everything feels new and familiar at once, a destiny-driven combination that has me knowing we’re right for each other.
But once I carry the plates into the kitchen – the delicious dinner settling nicely in my belly – thoughts of Dad return to me.
It’s what Damien said, about how nobody else knows what happened when he was a kid, all that darkness and pain he had to live through….
Except for Dad.
His best friend.
When I return to the dining room, Damien’s standing at the window, his hands behind his back. I’m quiet for a moment, watching him, allowing my body to respond to the sight of his honed muscles and his confident stance.
My sex aches, and my core gives one of its now-typical shivers, telling me to make this happen.
He turns, that savage look passing across his face when his gaze settles on me.
“We need to talk,” he says with an effort, walking toward me.
I nod, knowing he’s right, but the closer he gets, the more difficult it becomes to remember the thing I’m supposed to care about most.
Telling Dad before we go any further.
“We’ve crossed lines,” he says, stopping just short of me.
He’s close enough to touch, his scent teasing me. Manly and musky and one thousand percent him, as if his body is sending me signals, tempting me to do something silly, something I may regret when I fail.
“I know,” I whisper.
“By text. In-person… We need to agree we’re going to tell Max.”
I swallow, feeling like I’ve been thumped in the chest, even if this is what I expected.
“I know,” I whisper.
“So, you agree?”
“I know you’re right,” I go on. “But the thing is, Damien… what are we going to tell him?”
He looks at me, his expression becoming intense, like he’s hiding something. I try to work out what it could be, daring to let myself hope it’s his feelings, his desire, his need, his everything…all the feelings swirling through me, but his version, possessive and protective and animalistic and mine.
“You’re my girlfriend,” he smirks, and the intense moment passes. “We can start there.”
“What if he hates us?” I whisper.
Damien steps forward, taking my hands. I let out a soft breath at the touch, the sensation sizzling up my arms, all through my body.
My sex grows hotter, wetter, my panties rubbing against it. My mind floods for the thousandth time with all the things we said during our texting sessions.
“He won’t,” Damien says.
“How can you know that?” I say passionately. “Do you really think I’m worth the risk?”
He answers by looping his arms around me, sliding his hands down to my hips, and squeezing like he owns me.
His lips are on mine in the next instant, our bodies melting together as I claw onto his shoulders, and dig my fingernails into his unyielding muscles.
He moans through the kiss, moving his hands to my ass, massaging in a way that has my whole lower half ablaze.
My sex is screaming at me now. This is the time…our future is right there, in his pants, solid and ready.
We both press forward, driven by our bodies, our lust.
“This is so much better than texting,” he growls, breaking off the kiss but keeping close to me, his hot breath whispering over my cheeks.
“I know.”
A wide smile spreads across my face, despite the kernel of uncertainty set firmly in my gut.
But it’s scarier too, I almost add, but then he kisses me again.
I’m glad for the interruption, even if I know we’re going against what we said, waiting until we’ve told Dad to do anything else.
He massages my ass cheeks, pushing them together, causing maddening tingles to attack me.
My sex is soaked, and my panties feel like they are in the way.
I place my hand on his chest, meaning to push him back, and remind him of our agreement. But then my body takes over, my instincts flare, and I’m tightening my grip on his chest instead.
I press with my fingernails, moaning when I feel how solid he is, how ready like his whole body is pumped full of his desire…desire for a future, a family, even if that’s only a fantasy.
Even if he has no idea how deep my desire goes.
He kisses me again, snarling like a beast finally free of its chains as he slips his hands down the back of my pants. I moan, muffled through the kiss as he starts to massage my bare flesh, squeezing on, grunting as the kissing breaks off.
“You feel so fucking hot,” he snarls. “Like you’re burning up. I need to feel you cream for me, Danielle. I need to mark you. I need to watch as you fucking melt for me.”