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Damien chomped on the leftover ice from his drink and promptly changed the topic of conversation. “Wanna go see the treehouse?”
My eyes widened. “Treehouse?”
“Yeah. Tyler and I built it with Dad. It was ninety percent finished when he died. We completed it ourselves a few years later and went all out. It’s pretty damn cool.”
“It’s more like a man cave in the sky.” Monica grinned.
“I would love to see it.”
Damien led me to the side of the house where a magnificent wooden structure sat amidst a giant tree. The treehouse even had windows. A long ladder made of rope hung beneath it. It literally looked like a little home.
Inside there was a bed with a plaid comforter and a small couch across from it. A lamp was plugged into an electrical outlet. There was a television and DVD player.
“There’s electricity?”
“Of course. How else would I sneak in here to watch porn?”
“That’s what you did in here?”
“Tyler and I definitely took advantage of this place in our teen years.”
“Okay. I don’t need to know any more than that.”
He laughed. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think I would really like to christen it with you right now.”
“I can’t do that with your mother right downstairs.”
“Well, we’re gonna have to figure out a way, because I can’t go the entire weekend without having you. Maybe after she goes to sleep, you can sneak up here to visit me.”
We were spending the night here in San Jose. The plan was for me to stay in Tyler’s old bedroom, and I had assumed Damien would be sleeping in his room at the house.
“You’re sleeping in the treehouse?”
“Yeah. It’s really peaceful being up here at night. My second favorite place in the world.”
“Second favorite?”
“Inside of you is always my number one.” He winked, pulling me close.
“I should’ve known.”***Later that night, I’d said goodnight to Monica and retreated to the guest room after Damien kissed us both and headed to the treehouse.
An hour later, he texted me.Get your beautiful ass up here.Chelsea: What if your mother catches me leaving?Damien: My mother knows we fuck. She’s not stupid. We’re adults.Chelsea: Okay. Is there enough light for me to see where I’m going?Damien: You’re good. I’ll make sure you get up okay.Damien held a lantern at the entrance to the treehouse so that I could safely make my way up without falling.
After I climbed up the ladder, he pulled me into his arms. “It seems like I haven’t touched you in forever.”
“Well, it’s not every day we’re under the watchful eyes of your mother.”
Damien squeezed my ass cheeks as he kissed me. After he slowly released my bottom lip, he said, “My mother really likes you.”
I pulled back to examine his face. “She told you that?”
“She didn’t have to. I could tell by the way she was looking at you. She was smiling and engaged while talking to you. That’s rare. Basically, she sees all the things I see. You’re very real, and she appreciates that.”
“I’m so relieved.”
His eyes trailed down from my chest to my legs. “And I appreciate that you look like a teenage dream right now in these tiny shorts.”
“Well, I’m sneaking into a boy’s treehouse. I had to look sexy.”
“I spent many nights in this very treehouse fantasizing about imaginary women who didn’t hold a candle to you.”
“You know…I didn’t think I was your type when we first met.”
He slipped his finger under the strap of my cami. “Why did you think that?”
“I look nothing like Jenna or the other couple of girls I’ve seen you with, for that matter.” Just thinking about that made me cringe. “I don’t have huge boobs or a big ass or wear a lot of makeup.”
“I never had a type. And honestly? From the first night we hung out, all I fantasized about was the beautiful, lithe blonde next door.” He ran his hands through my hair. “I’d wonder what this would feel like between my fingers.” He lowered his mouth to my neck. “What it would be like to suck on this…” He gently bit my skin before lifting my shirt off. “What these tits would taste like.” Bending down, he took my nipple into his mouth and sucked hard before licking a line slowly down to my belly button. “What the grooves of this tiny navel would feel like against the tip of my tongue.” As he continued to kneel, he said, “Don’t get me started on this navel. I’ve painted this navel. That’s how much I love it.”
“You have?”
He caressed it with his fingertips. “Yes. I’ll show it to you sometime.”
I ran my fingers through his hair as he stayed on his knees. He then slipped my shorts down my legs.
“You know what I love about you, Damien?”
He looked up at me, flashing a crooked grin. “My massive rod?”
