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Then his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding, stealing what little breath I had left. I melt into his kiss.
My body becomes lost in his, and I let myself go, feeling as though I need more of him. I feel like I could explode with pleasure at the thought of being his again in an unexpected and completely delicious way.
With bated breath, as my mouth loses itself in his, I realize that this has been more than sex for me.
I've never been able to give myself to a man I don't have feelings for. Never. Not once.
It could be naivete or my hopeless romantic nature or this connection I feel between us. But I know for a fact that somewhere between Friday and Tuesday, I fell in love with Damien McAllister, and now there's no turning back.
CHAPTER TEN
DAMIEN
I stretch out on the bed, feeling sated and content.
Andrea snuggles up beside me, her soft curves pressed against my body. The scent of her shampoo mixed with the musky aroma of sex fills my nostrils.
My fingers trace idle patterns along her bare back as I gaze at her peaceful face. In this moment, she looks so young and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the fierce passion she showed just minutes ago.
I want to know everything about this woman. The real her, not the polished pop star persona. I could get Ethan to dig up her background, but that feels too impersonal. Too clinical.
No, I want Andrea to open up to me herself. To trust me with her secrets and insecurities. To bare her soul the way she's bared her body.
"Tell me about yourself," I murmur, my voice low and intimate in the pre-dawn quiet. "The real you, not Drea Joy."
She tenses slightly at my words, and I feel her walls start to go up. But then she exhales slowly, melting back into my embrace.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything." I press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Your childhood, your dreams, your fears. The things that make you who you are."
She's silent for a long moment, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her head. Finally, she begins to speak, her voice a hushed whisper.
"I grew up in Brooklyn, in a tiny apartment with my parents. They..." She pauses, swallowing hard. "They weren't the best role models, let's just say."
Her hand unconsciously strokes the inside of my forearm, seeking comfort. I tighten my embrace, silently encouraging her to continue.
"Music was my escape. My salvation. I taught myself to play guitar and started writing songs as a kid, pouring all my pain and dreams into the lyrics."
I can hear the rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she's allowing me to witness. It's a gift, one I don't take lightly.
"Brandon found me when I was fifteen, busking in the park. He promised to make me a star, to give me everything I ever wanted."
Her eyes cloud over with a mix of gratitude and resentment. "And he did, in a way. But the price..." She trails off, shaking her head.
The pieces are starting to come together, painting a picture of a young girl desperate for love and validation, falling into the manipulative clutches of a man like Brandon.
My blood boils at the thought of anyone exploiting her like that. Of stealing her light and trying to dim it for their own gain.
"You're not trapped anymore, Andrea," I murmur fiercely. "Not with me."
She meets my gaze, her aquamarine eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I want to believe that. God, how I want to..."
I cup her face in my hands, holding her steady. "Then believe it. Trust me."
For an endless heartbeat, we stay frozen like that, our souls laid bare. Then she gives the smallest of nods, and I feel something profound shift between us.
This woman has been to hell and back, yet she's still fighting. Still dreaming of a life where she can be free and whole.
