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Tears welling, Charlie pleaded, “Don’t take me back to him,” her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d rather die than be his plaything for any amount of time. Please, Damon…help me.”
I saw in her eyes a wealth of emotion, deep and bottomless. In a million years, I’d never truly understand the depths of a woman like her. Manny was right, Charlie was nothing like the rest of the girls around.
I wasn’t into poetry but there was something about Charlie that made me want to learn.
“He wants to hurt me,” she said, blinking back tears. I wasn’t a great judge of womanly wile but her tears seemed genuine. “Please, Damon. You stepped in for a reason. You were drunk but something inside you knew you couldn’t let it happen right under your nose.”
Think Damon. You’re already in over your head, don’t make it worse.
“You’re his girl,” I returned stubbornly but my gut was saying something different.
“I hate him.”
“Don’t all women want someone who can take care of them? Buy ‘em fancy things?”
Her expression screwed into a disgusted scowl. “Not all. Certainly not me. And I can see you’ve been hanging around the wrong people your whole life if that’s how you feel about women.”
Her retort was as effective as a slap to the face. My mother had raised me to respect women.
But the person my mother had raised seemed a distant memory at this point in my life.
I can’t say Ma would’ve approved of how I’d turned out and that twisted my gut.
Charlie was right about one thing; I didn’t know shit about women.
I’d been too shy, too awkward with my words to play the dating game so I’d poured my time into the gym, reaching for a career that would be perpetually out of reach.
Fuck, in hindsight, I’d wasted my own time. I could’ve at least been hip deep in pussy instead of killing myself doing reps.
You know what they said about hindsight.
“Maybe,” I grunted, reluctantly conceding her point.
So maybe Charlie wasn’t like most women, double crossing Davonte would be worse than stupid — it was suicide.
But a part of me knew she was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
What was to stop Davonte from fucking me over once I delivered Charlie?
Absolutely nothing.
Right now my value to Davonte rested solely on being able to deliver his prize.
Once that was done…I was dead weight. I didn’t believe for a second that he actually wanted me working for him, even though I’d tried to convince myself otherwise.
Damn, if the woman didn’t have ESP or something.
“C’mon, just think about it for a minute,” Charlie pleaded. “Has Davonte ever shown a lick of interest in you otherwise?”
Yeah, good point. Where was Davonte when Manny cut me loose?
Nowhere.
He’d never been a true mentor of mine but I’d thought, maybe, Davonte might…Jesus, even in my head that sounded pathetic.
I skewed my gaze back to Charlie.
Be smart. Wash your hands of her. Deliver her to Davonte and then split.
But that growly, prickly feeling returned when I thought of anyone, much less Davonte, touching that soft skin, knowing her taste, or hearing her moan.
I couldn’t explain it but I was quickly losing the stamina to fight it.
I wanted to taste that fire.
I wanted to burn with her.
And I couldn’t blame the Jameson this time.
This time, I was going off the motherfucking rails all on my own.
“And if you’re right?” I murmured, my gaze going straight to her lips. “You and me are going to be partners?”
Charlie licked her lips, jerking her head in a nod. “Partners,” she repeated. “Untie me and we’ll even shake on it.”
I didn’t want to shake her hand. My hand cupped her jaw. “I had something different in mind to seal the deal,” I said, her gaze widening as I zeroed in on that gorgeous mouth.
“Wait…” she protested but it was already happening.
“Like you said, my life is fucked anyway.”
And then I kissed her.
Hard.
Chapter 10
Charlie
I gasped at the sudden bruising of his lips on mine but a wild thrill arced through me. My hands still tied, I could do nothing but take what he was giving.
My knees weakened as his tongue found mine.
Heat flooded my insides as everything became warm and slippery.
My nipples hardened to peach pits, aching to be touched.
If Damon were to reach between my legs he’d find me wet and ready.
I may be a virgin but I knew arousal.
I knew that Damon turned me on but I couldn’t explain the attraction.
Damon was everything I didn’t want in a man.
A fighter. A lug. A man who saw the world in black and white. A man who’d been willing to give me to the devil to save his own skin.
But those giant hands cupping my behind, drawing me closer, grinding me against the hard shaft contained behind his zipper…I wanted to melt.
Again, that safe feeling — which didn’t make any sense — enveloped me like a cocoon. He was big and terrifying but in his hands, I felt nothing could harm me.
Except him.
Suddenly, I was hoisted on his hips, my legs wrapping around him and locking — a perfect fit.
We were headed back to the bed.
I knew I should stop what was happening.
It was all happening too fast.
“Stop,” I whimpered, even as he brought me to the bed and my hips lifted so he could shimmy my jeans free.
If he heard me, he didn’t respond. His eyes were glazed, riveted by the dainty shield my panties provided. But did I want him to stop?
Logic said, yes; Desire said, don’t you dare.
No one had ever looked at me like Damon was right
at that moment.
His breath shortened and his fingers clenched as if he didn’t trust himself not to rip the bikini bottoms from my body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, almost as if he couldn’t control the words that’d fallen from his mouth. “Fuck me.”
Uttered like a prayer or a condemnation, it didn’t matter. The shiver dancing on my spine swallowed my protests.
There was nothing false about Damon. If he was pissed, he showed it. He didn’t dance around, he went straight for what he wanted.
And he wanted me.
That heady feeling returned, making me giddy all over again.
What was I doing?
This was insanity.
I tried to close my knees, tried to remember that I didn’t want to lose my virginity this way, especially to him but his warm breath on my belly stole the air from my lungs.
Damon gripped my hips and drew me closer to that hungry mouth.
He inhaled sharply as he brought me to his lips. My jaw fell slack as his breath tickled the strawberry blond curls dusting my mound.
And then with the softest touch, his tongue delved between my two halves, shocking me with pleasure.
His grip tightened on my hips, bruising, but his tongue swept away any notion of pain.
The shock of illicit pleasure blasted through my nerve endings.
His touch was hard but his tongue merciless.
I writhed but there was no escaping his mouth.
But the shameful truth? I didn’t really want to escape.
No, I wanted to revel in what he was doing, losing myself so that he could find me again.
I died a million times over, helpless to stop, desperate for him to continue.
“D-Damon…”
My body tightened and began to shake as my toes curled and everything clenched.
Stars burst behind my eyes and I couldn’t help the cry that followed as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure crashed all around me.
Damon shamelessly planted his face in my pussy without a moment’s hesitation.
I was dripping, the moisture trickling between my ass cheeks, soaking the bed beneath me.
What the hell was wrong with me? My hips lifted, begging for more.
