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ADDISON
Damian leaneddown and pulled my hand to his mouth, and pressed a warm kiss to it, sending a jolt through my body, and I suddenly longed for his full lips to be on mine.
“Not tonight, love. You’ll feel better in the morning if I don’t stay. I can promise you that.” He said with a chuckle.
I felt disappointment at his response. I was terrified of being alone after the events of the day. The alcohol mingled with the sadness and accentuated the pounding in my head, leaving everything feeling hazy. I dreaded being alone. The sudden turn of events earlier that day gnawed on me with a vengeance, waiting to suck me under when I was finally alone for the night.
As he stood over me, I eyed Damian and longed to be curled up next to him. He was tall, and I could see the outline of his muscles through his crisp suit. I imagined those big arms would feel incredible to be wrapped up in. As I gazed up at him, I noticed he had the most perfectly grown out stubble; it accentuated his sharp jaw, and it was sexy as hell.
I suddenly felt self conscious and wondered if I was his type. He was extremely handsome and the kind of beautiful that you didn’t see in everyday people.
His chest was broad, and I knew he was strong by the way he had easily ripped the thick fabric of my dress apart in one quick motion. I shuddered at the thought. I couldn't quite tell how old he was, but he seemed a bit older than me with subtle flecks of gray streaking through his dark chocolate brown hair.
He seemed perfectly put together, and I wanted to pull him to me and rake my hands through that perfect hair and tousle it up. Damian came across as powerful and confident, even slightly intimidating, but something about him invited me in any way. Maybe it was the warm twinkle in his eye that contrasted with his masculine sharp features. I felt my center throbbing as I looked at him. The closeness of him making me dizzy with desire.
I knew he had to come from money, because his energy exuded wealth and power, and it was further accentuated by the dark suit he wore, which I assumed was incredibly expensive by the looks of it. Which didn't surprise me as I looked around at the lavish room I was now staying in, a room I would have never dreamed of affording.
I blinked, watching him walk away from me, and the room started to spin.
“Mr. West?” I called out as he grabbed his things and headed for the door.
“It’s Damian.”
I could feel sleep creeping in, and I suddenly struggled to keep my eyes open. “Damian.” I like the way it sounded coming out of my mouth. “Thanks for all this.” I said, waving my hand, motioning to the room.
“Anytime.” He said as the corners of his mouth twitched. “Goodnight, my runaway bride. Sleep tight.” He chuckled and flicked the lights off as he closed the door softly behind him.
I gazed up in the darkness and felt sleep overcoming me like a heavy, fuzzy blanket.
* * *
Groaning,I peeled my eyes open. I had slept hard, and one arm was asleep and dead above my head. I blinked my eyes. What time was it, anyway? My head was pounding, and I frantically checked the clock. Seven. Perfect. I hadn’t missed my flight. Throwing back the covers, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting for a moment as the blood rushed back into my head from sitting up too quickly. I flexed my hand as the pins and needles shot through my arm as the circulation in my arm woke back up. I blinked for a moment, taking in the room around me, slowly piecing together the events from the day before. My headed pounded against the back of my eyes as I glanced around.
I wandered towards the bathroom, and my eyes flicked over to the mostly finished bottle of Dom Pérignon. It was now sitting in a puddle of water in the ice bucket from last night. I had never had the privilege of trying champagne that expensive, but man, was it good. It went down the hatch fast and easy.
I was pretty sure champagne like that cost over a few hundred dollars, and I chewed my lip, thinking about how Mr. West– Damian had sent it up like an afterthought. I wondered what kind of person had that kind of money to give something like that so carelessly. I looked around the room, deciding that he must be extremely wealthy. It had been incredibly generous of him to offer me his penthouse suit like that. It was certainly the nicest room I had ever stayed in, and it was more than a nice gesture.
As I walked around the bed, I stepped over my giant wedding dress, and suddenly the events of the day before came flooding back to me. I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth as I stared down at my ripped dress, the frayed fabric sending the memory of last night flooding back to me.
Damian, the tall, rich, generous stranger who I had invited into my room last night, was the one who I’d begged to rip the damn thing off of me. I looked down at my open robe, realizing I was still in my pale blue wedding lingerie with the fluffy white hotel robe loosely tied over me. I blushed, trying to remember if I had dreamed that I asked him to stay with me, or if I had actually asked him. I pulled the robe closed over my bare chest. Had he seen me mostly naked between getting out of my dress and into the robe? I blushed at the thought.
I stared down at the frayed fabric of my dress and felt a shudder tingle through me, remembering the way his big hands had felt against my skin, so warm, so inviting. Especially after– and as I stared down at the dress, the events from even earlier in the day suddenly came flooding in and the blossom of butterflies instantly disappeared.
The bubbling feeling was replaced with a deep anger and sadness as I pictured Jack looming over Courtney; one of my bridesmaids, in the back ofmycar, shortly before the reception.
Fucking bastard.
I had touched up my makeup and went to put my makeup bag in the glove box of the car so I wouldn't forget it later that night. That’s when I found them there, moaning and gasping in a sweaty heap right in the middle of the damn act itself.
I pictured Courtneys tits out, with Jack’s tongue hungrily rolling over her, as he thrust into her over and over. I’d just stood there watching it unfold in front of me for a moment, in utter shock.
I felt my lower lip trembling as the hot shame spread through me. Deceived and betrayed by what I thought was the love of my life, and also by one of my best friends who was supposed to stand by me while I bonded myself to Jack for the rest of my life.
It was practically the lowest thing I felt someone could do to another person. On both their parts. I was gripped by the horror and pain of it, but also wanting to know all the dirty little details. Was this a one-time thing? Had they been doing this behind my back the whole time? And why is God’s name had they not had enough self control to avoid fucking each other on mywedding dayof all days?
I felt dizzy and nauseous and incredibly hung over from the exhaustion as much as the alcohol as I tried to wrap my head around it. I shuffled over to the bathroom and decided to take a hot bath to wash the previous day's sweat and shame off of me. Over the thundering sound of the water filling the extremely large jacuzzi bathtub, I heard a knock at the front door.
Startled, I eyed myself in the mirror with my sweaty hair stuck to my face, and remnants of makeup smeared over my face. I saw the dirty washcloth with most of my makeup on it, still sitting on the bathroom counter, and momentarily smiled, thinking that it was such a sweet gesture; more than Jack had ever done.
