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All the air whooshed out of me in one breath, and I nodded, succumbing to my fate. I was powerless to stop whatever was happening. I didn’t want it to stop, judging from the river flowing between my legs. Maybe I could just have this one taste. This one try. I’d deal with whatever came after, including the Harper mess.
“Please,” I croaked.
Damian descended on me, capturing my lips in a kiss that froze time. Everything else around us ceased to exist, the world itself shuddering to a stop as I finally found out just how soft and perfect his plump lips were. I moaned, my knees feeling wobbly. He tightened his hold on my dress, diving in for another kiss, his tongue pressing at my lips.
I opened my mouth to receive him, and our tongues tangled together. Damian loosened his fist and pushed his hand up over the curve of my hip. Up the front of my dress, over the swell of my breasts. He left a permanent trail of goosebumps wherever he touched me, his hand stopping below the heavy curve of my left breast. My nipples turned into hard points beneath his potent touch.
Damian was hungry. And he knew what he wanted. He squeezed my breast hard enough to make me whimper, and then his hand snaked up along my chest until it was planted at the base of my neck. He rooted me there, like he controlled me, his fingertips digging into the softness of my neck. When he broke the kiss, he looked drugged. Gone. Completely fucking lost in the passion.
Just how I imagined I must look.
“You’re a good kisser,” he said, a grin curling at his lips.
“You…don’t even know…how good you are.” Talking was still hard. We needed to keep kissing instead.
He hooked his arm around my back, more parts of our body touching, which meant more of my skin erupting into goosebumps. Being locked in his embrace felt so good, so divine, that I couldn’t even comprehend it. My brain shorted out trying to make sense of it all.
“We wasted a long time,” he said, dipping down for another kiss. But this time, it was soft. A feathery peck. One that made me push up onto my tiptoes looking for more.
“I always knew you’d kiss like a dream,” I murmured. My body sighed with relief as he blessed me with another deep tongue kiss. His grip around the back of my neck tightened, and my core wound up like a coil.
“Come to my bedroom,” he growled between kisses. His lips drifted from my mouth across my cheek, back to my earlobe. The hand he’d planted at the base of my neck drifted around to the front of my chest, down slowly over my cleavage. His warm touch felt like healing. A hot stone with medicinal properties. Everything inside me throbbed, wanting more of this touch. More of him.
But his request was a big one. I’d only ever had sex with two men in my life. Damian could easily be the third. But not if I was the other woman.
Clarity made tiny steps through me, dousing some of the embers of our makeout session. But only for a moment. Once Damian’s fingertips pushed underneath the fabric of my dress and drifted toward the edge of my bra, all reason flew out the window again. The man was mere seconds away from cupping my breast, and there was nothing I wanted more in this life.
“You’ve never seen my bedroom,” he went on, his tongue flicking out against my earlobe again. “The tour was incomplete.”
His fingers plunged deeper, his pinky finger nearing my areola. My eyes drifted shut. If this was heaven, what would going all the way be?
I might actually die.
The front door swung open suddenly, a movement I barely noticed around Damian’s square shoulders. I gasped, stepping away from him, the intrusion feeling a lot like a bucket of water dumped over our steamy affair.
Damian twisted to look toward the front door. Trace’s voice boomed out a moment later.
“Don’t mind me, just forgot a few things,” he said, his footsteps scuffing across the tiled floor as he rolled his luggage back inside the house. I tore myself even further away from Damian and sat on the nearest armchair, covering my face with my hands.
What are you doing?
What have youdone?
Damian didn’t bother to respond to Trace, who hurried through the living room and disappeared into the depths of the house. Damian watched his brother go and cleared his throat, adjusting his gym shorts. That’s when I noticed the thick ridge of his arousal. My mouth parted, and I took another glorious glimpse before I buried my face in my hands.
You’re about to sleep with a man who is taken. Jessa Walton, what has New York done to you?
“Come on.” Damian offered his hand, tipping his head toward the other end of the house. “Let’s go.”
“Damian, I can’t.” My voice came out trembling and weak, no doubt a combination of the nearly fatal arousal pumping through my veins, combined with the stress of a one-night stand with my taken boss. “Are you kidding me? You’re with someone.”
“Jessa—” he started, his face crumpling.
“I don’t care how perfect, or sculpted, or surprisingly possessive you are,” I said, waving my hand at the complete package that he was. “I don’t care that it would be most definitely the best sex of my life. Not like there’s much to compare it to, trust me. So let’s just say you win by default and save ourselves the trouble of turning me into the other woman.”
His shoulders sank. “It’s not like that.”
“That’s what all womanizers say,” I snapped.
