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I felt sexy.
I felt powerful.
I chewed my lip, then met his eyes to wait for his next command.
“Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want you to tease me.”
Damon, you kinky bastard.
I used just my index finger to slip the strap of my sports bra to the side, loving how his eyes followed my every movement with obvious hunger.
I realized with a little annoyance that I couldn’t sexily shimmy my sports bra down, so I had to try to do a recovery move where I tucked my arm under on the other side and then pulled it over my head.
Of course, being the klutz I was, I managed to slingshot it from the back of my head and straight to Damon.
He caught it in his hand, then lifted it to his nose and sniffed.
I couldn’t help bulging my eyes. Okay. He wasn’t just a kinky bastard. He was a freak. A spectacular, gorgeous, breathtaking freak. And he was sniffing my sports bra.
He clutched it in his fist, then tossed it on top of his suitcase like he was saving it as a trophy. Then he beckoned me closer with one finger.
Dutifully, I walked toward him. I felt like a goddess. Like sex personified. I was the effing seductress. I was the siren in the sea, the one who was driving him wild with lust, and I was loving every moment of it.
He took a hard handful of my breasts. Damon sucked in a quick breath, then ran his thumb teasingly across my nipple.
His hands on me were everything. They were atomic. I had to close my eyes and lean into him to stop my now jelly-weak knees from giving out.
“Pants,” Damon commanded while still groping my chest.
I shimmied out of my leggings with as much dignity as I could manage. It seemed he was too busy with my boobs to sniff those, I noted with amusement. Or maybe his freakiness had limits.
He cupped me between the legs before I could take off my panties, driving me backwards toward the bed.
I melted against his touch, eyelids fluttering. “You are still supposed to clean me off first, remember?”
Damon growled. He actually growled, then he scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom. He made me feel small and weightless against his huge frame.
Holding me to him with one hand, Damon reached into the shower and turned on the water. He set me down on my feet and pushed my backside against the tall glass frame of the shower.
He looked possessed. None of the reserved, grumpy distance was there. The only thing I saw in his eyes was need, and I found myself desperately wanting to fill that need. I just had to try not to think about how I was undoubtedly setting myself up for disappointment. This was going to be a one-time thing. A one off. I had to believe that, because believing anything else would be naïve.
“Why are your panties still on?” Damon asked between kisses he planted on my neck. Apparently, he had no issue with the fact that I was a sweaty mess. Combined with the whole sports bra sniffing thing, I found it hot in an animalistic sort of way.
“Because you started grabbing my pussy and then picked me up before I could take them off?”
“Smartass,” he said, cupping my chin. He studied my lips, then took them in his, greedily kissing me.
I let my eyelids slide shut and fell into the kiss. It was like floating in a dark sky full of bursting fireworks. I could practically see the brightly colored smoke drifting around us, feel the thump of the explosions in the heavy beats of my heart.
It was right.
It was perfect.
It was everything.
And it couldn’t last.
Stop thinking like that, Chelsea. I kissed him back, wishing all the glowy warmth in my stomach would stop sending stupid ideas to my brain. Just sex. It was just sex. If I played that on repeat enough times, I could make it true.
He kiss-walked me backward into the water, even though I still had my underwear on. Hot, steaming water splashed over his shoulders to puddle between our joined chests.
“I don’t want to get hurt,” I said quietly, words lost in the hiss of the shower head.
I shoved my doubts into a deep, dark closet and kissed him again. I reached between his legs and gripped his impossibly thick length. It seemed even bigger than I remembered, and God knew I’d remembered it being big.
“Don’t put this in me until we’re out of the shower and you’re wearing a rubber, okay?” I said. A rubber I’m going to carefully inspect for holes, this time.
“Bossy,” Damon noted just before he took my shoulders and pushed me up against the wall. He held me there with a hand between my breasts, then reached for a bar of soap with his other hand. With a one handed, careful motion, he lathered up and set the bar down.
