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Usually, Paxton and I would be arriving at something like this together but I told him there was zero chance of that happening and that I would meet him there. This isn’t a red carpet event, so it’s not as if we need to take pictures together. My manager, Cooper, did order a limousine for me tonight and I’ll admit, a wicked thought floats through me about what Damian and I could do once the privacy screen goes up. Usually, he rides in the front, but there have been times when he’s ridden in the back with me if he wants to go over any precautions or if it’s a club I haven’t been to and he wants to let me know where he’ll be stationed.
He would actually get blueprints of where we’d be and mark it like a treasure map. X’s for where he’d be and dotted lines of routes I should take if anything happens and I can’t find him.
I make my way downstairs and am surprised I don’t see Damian waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs like he always does. I’m just about to text him to let him know I’m ready when I hear a sharp intake of breath followed by a“fuck”from behind me.
I turn towards the source of the sound and see him coming towards me in a full black tuxedo with a glass of champagne in his hand and my mouth drops open in shock. “You’rehaving a drink?”
He doesn’t respond; he just runs his gaze all over me like he doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes ping-pong between my breasts and my legs and my face—more specifically my mouth—then my eyes then my mouth again. He hands me the flute of champagne and I realize it’s for me to calm my nerves. “You look…breathtaking. My God, you’re a vision.”
I gently graze my bottom lip with my teeth, grateful I’m wearing a lip stain that won’t move. “Thank you.” I move towards him and run my finger over his black tie beneath his vest and jacket. “You look very nice as well.” I rove my eyes over him the same way he did to me. “You didn’t have to wear a tux.”
He shrugs. “It was the safest option and you know I like to blend in as best as possible.”
I nod as he reaches for my hand and spins me around slowly. I shiver when his hand finds the bare space of my lower back. When I’m facing him again, his eyes are on mine, and if he doesn’t stop staring at me like he wants to devour me, I am not going anywhere.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I take a sip of my champagne, tipping my head back but still keeping my eyes on him. My cheeks are heating and the tiny thong I’m wearing is already getting wet at all of the sexy fantasies flying through my head.
He takes a step towards me. “I can’t look at you likethisout there, so I have to get it out of my system now.”
He lightly runs his knuckles over my cheek and down the side of my neck that’s exposed and then between the valley of my breasts, dragging his finger along both slopes. Goosebumps erupt all over and I gasp before taking a step back. “Damian.” My nipples pucker against the fabric and all I have to do is slide the dress gently off one shoulder and he could be staring at my naked breasts. I contemplate doing it, giving him a glimpse of what’s to come later but his phone beeps, breaking the tension.
“The limo is here,” he says moving away from me and towards the door.
I take a larger sip of my champagne and the words leave my lips before I can stop them. “You haven’t kissed me.”
He turns around and tilts his head to the side. “Come again?”
“You haven’t kissed me.”
He stares at me as if he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “And now is the time to do that for the first time?” He moves back towards me. “You think now, while the driver is waiting outside to take you to a party, is the time for me to put my lips on yours for the first time? While I have to be careful about your lipstick and your makeup and can’t slide my tongue between your lips? What, you’re expecting a nice, simple, and polite kiss on the lips? You don’t think I’ll want to rip this dress off? You really think the first time we kiss should be…now?”
The words die on my tongue and I’m at a loss. I guess I agree and maybe I should have phrased the question as “whenare you going to kiss me?” I finish the rest of my champagne before setting the flute on the credenza in my entryway and grabbing the clutch I’d set down.
“Later,” I tell him as I walk by and I feel his warm hand on the small of my back all the way to the door before he drops it.
The driver is already outside and he opens the door just as I start down my walkway. I can hear Damian behind me, and when I get to the door, I look up at him. “Can you ride in the back with me?” I ask and he nods once before darting his eyes to the driver who appears unfazed. Limo drivers exercise the most discretion. They all sign strict NDAs so they can’t share whatever they see or hear or think with anyone. I lift my dress and sit in the seat closest to the door so I don’t have to move around too much. Damian walks around the other side so I don’t have to move and sits next to me. Immediately, I press the button to raise the privacy screen and Damian’s hand tries to swat mine away to keep it down.
“You know he won’t say anything,” I whisper. “You vet all the drivers too.” The screen gets to the top and I turn to face him. “Did you see my shoes?” I turn to rest my back against the door and lift one of my feet adorned with a glittery ankle-strapped stiletto to rest on his knee, careful not to let the bottom of my shoe touch his pants. He glares at me knowing what I’m doing and yet his hand finds the strap wrapped around my ankle and rubs the skin there before trailing slowly up my leg.
“I love your legs,” he says, not pulling his gaze away from my legs, letting his eyes drag up along with his hand.
“I know,” I tell him and his eyes snap to mine at my response.
“You know?”
“Yes, did you know you’re never exactly discreet with how your eyes devour my legs when they’re on display?”
He lifts my leg and I sink further in my seat as his lips find my ankle and trail up my leg. “Is that so?” His tongue darts out and trails up my leg almost to my knee and I bite my bottom lip, hoping and praying that his tongue will make it higher.
“I don’t want to go anymore,” I blurt out. I know we are probably almost there as Lorenzo doesn’t live that far from me, but suddenly, I care less about the party that could potentially help my career and more about this man’s tongue on my clit.
“Yes, you do,” he grunts.
“No. I want you,” I argue, reaching for the switch to lower the privacy screen to tell the driver to turn around, but Damian swats my hand away.
“You need to go. More importantly, you want to go. Stop thinking with your pussy, Shay.” He sets my leg back across his lap but makes no effort to move it.
I scoff even though the vulgar words falling from his lips make me shudder. “Excuse you? I was doing fine. You’re the one that started eye fucking me and touching me the second I walked down the stairs. Maybeyoushould stop thinking with your dick until you decide you’re ready to use it.”
