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She laughs. “I’m guessing we’re not going to watch TV though.”
I touch my lips to hers again. “No. I’m going to give you so many orgasms, it’ll make you dizzy.”
“Oh God.”
“You wanted to seduce me, Belle, so you have to deal with the aftereffects. I’m so hot for you, I’m about to self-combust. So I hope you’re ready to get swept up in the flames, because I’m not going to hold back.”
Chapter Sixteen
Belle
I return to the table on shaky legs. “You were a long time,” Freddie comments. “You feeling okay?”
“A little bit wobbly,” I admit truthfully. “Too many glasses of champagne, I guess.”
He chuckles. “Can’t say I’m keen on it. I’d rather have a beer.” He finishes off his glass anyway. “You want some more?” he asks, picking up a bottle.
I shake my head and, disappointed, he tops up his own glass. He’s been trying to get me drunk tonight, maybe hoping I’d go back to his room with him. He doesn’t know that someone else has already claimed that privilege.
I shiver at the memory of Damon pressed up against me, murmuring against my mouth that he’s going to give me so many orgasms, it’ll make me dizzy. The guy looks amazing tonight. Freddie’s fun, but he looks like a boy with his too-tight trousers, his earring, and his shaved head. Damon’s suit fits him like a dream, tailored to his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and you can tell it’s bespoke. Knowing him, he probably flew to Naples to buy it. Freddie’s tie looks as if his mum has tied it for him. Damon’s has an elegant Windsor knot. Freddie’s cufflinks are fun rugby balls and look as if they’ve come out of the two-dollar shop. Damon’s are Louis Vuitton and match his tie pin. Freddie’s wearing Lynx body spray. Damon’s cologne is spicy and smoky, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it was Clive Christian, probably over seven hundred dollars a bottle.
I’m not putting Freddie down for not having money. I know it’s a helluva lot easier to look suave when you’re not buying off the peg. But Damon’s sophistication goes much deeper than what he’s wearing. I admire that he can talk about rugby and gaming with the guys, but that he’s also a genius when it comes to computer programming. I love the fact that he drinks beer and eats chips out of the packet with Alex and the others, but that he also knows the difference between a twelve-year-old and a twenty-one-year-old Glenlivet.
And as for being a selfless god in the bedroom… I adore him for that.
I look across to the other table and discover him watching me, a small smile on his face.I’m so hot for you, I’m about to self-combust…Oh God. This man’s going to eat me alive. If I’m very, very lucky.
It takes a while for the evening to wind down, though. Everyone’s having a fun time, and nobody seems to want it to end. Tomorrow is when there’ll be music and dancing, but tonight is all about catching up with friends and family. Leaving Freddie sulking, I move between the tables, and even though I’m excited to be with Damon, I enjoy stopping to chat with people I haven’t seen in a long time.
At one point, I glance over and see Freddie deep in conversation with one of Tyson’s cousins, leaning toward her as he brushes her arm. Not exactly heartbroken that I’ve moved on, then. I glance across at Damon, and my body warms as I see him watching me, a small smile on his lips. He can’t take his eyes off me.
“Belle.”
I turn at the sound of the man’s voice and discover my brother standing behind me. Eek. Irritation flows through me. I’m an adult; I can date whomever I choose now. Why does he always make me feel as if I’m fourteen again?
But he doesn’t look cross with me. Instead, he nods across the room and says, “You want to give me a hand? I don’t want them to spoil the weekend.”
I follow his gaze and see Mum and Dad standing talking together. “Jesus,” I mumble, observing their stiff postures and the way they’re glaring at each other. “What do we do?”
“Diffuse the tension,” Alex says, leading the way across the room.
“How?”
“I dunno. I’m making this up as I go along.” He approaches the two of them and pins a smile on his face. “Hey. How’s it going?”
“She’s drunk,” Dad says, not removing his gaze from Mum’s face. “She finally graces her kids with a visit, and she can’t even remain sober for a few hours.”
Mum’s face flushes. “I’m not drunk,” she snaps. “I’ve had as much champagne as everyone else.”
“Yeah, and your tolerance of alcohol has always been crap,” Dad replies. His voice holds the bitterness that appears only when he’s speaking to her. He’s usually such a calm, placid man, and it always twists me up inside to hear him like this.
“Guys,” Alex says, “not here, and not today.”
They both ignore him. Mum’s trembling. Dad’s eyes are flashing with anger.
If they were two guys, I know that Alex would frog march one of them out of the room, but he can hardly do that with his parents, although he’s glowering, so I think it’s a possibility. It’ll draw attention, and I don’t want them to spoil Gaby’s evening.
