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I was too embarrassed afterward, so I pretended to pass out and flopped back on my pillow, hiding my face with the blanket.
Thankfully, he didn’t comment any further and let me sleep.
When I woke up again, I was feeling much better, but I was sweaty and sticky. I needed a shower ASAP. I stretched my limbs and found Damon sleeping by the kitchen island. Seeing him dwarf the kitchen stool made me smile.
He made the tiny apartment look smaller with his enormous frame. I wondered how he found out about my house though.
I brushed my teeth and took a quick shower, changing into another pair of sweats and a baggy tee. I was surprised to find him awake and scrolling through his phone when I walked out, patting my hair dry.
He saw me and pocketed his phone. “Where’s the hair dryer?” he asked, and when I pointed to the small dresser in front of the only mirror in the apartment, he walked to it and made me sit down.
I watched him through the reflection of the small mirror. His face focused as if he was handling fine China and not my hair.
I was glad we were staying quiet and not talking about last night. I didn’t know why I couldn’t tell him I didn’t regret it one bit. Something had stopped me, and I was definitely not in the right mind to talk to him after all the crying.
I had read about sub-drop and even though it looked fucking fabulous on paper, it was exhausting and overwhelming in real life. Even though some part of me loved the orgasm, it was too much.
“Eat the chicken soup that’s in the microwave.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
He stared at me while I reheated the soup and ate it. He made sure I finished it and I bit back my tongue from commenting on how delicious it was with fresh vegetables and thick broth. It reminded me of my parents and how my dad would cook the best chicken soup in the entire world whenever I got sick, since my mom couldn’t cook.
“Good girl,” he praised, and I had to pinch myself to keep from blushing. “Put on your shoes and come with me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. “I don’t trust you.”
He raised his brow.
I continued, “You came here, took care of me when I’m sick, cooked me delicious chicken soup, dried my hair, and now you want me to go out with you?”
“You liked the soup?”
“Yeah, the broccoli and—” I snapped at him, “Don’t change the subject!”
He gave me a cocky smirk and said, “Sure, darling.” He opened the front door for me and said, “Come on. Don’t forget your phone.”
I sighed and eyed him. “If you kidnap me, I’ll call the cops.”
He rolled his eyes, and I sucked in a breath before walking past him in the tiny hallway. He was too big for my apartment.
“Better yet, I’ll call James and Cillian.”
Damon followed me downstairs. “Why them?”
I looked over my shoulder and said, “Do you know how scary they are when they’re angry? They’ll beat you up.”
He flexed his biceps, opening the passenger door for me and said, “I can take them.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, sure, big guy.”
I massaged my neck when he started the car, freezing when I saw a moving car stopping in the parking lot. “Who’s moving?”
Damon stayed quiet and reversed the car.
“Damon?” I asked suspiciously, and when he didn’t reply, I knew what he was doing. “Are you fucking kidding me? What are you doing with my stuff?”
He finally smirked, and I hit him on his fucking massive biceps, hating that I was sick and couldn’t punch him in his family jewels. That and I’d definitely get arrested for it.
