Love Always, Kate

by D. Nichole King

  Find me in hiding

  Writing my own story, tell me is it boring, or is it all the same

  Old lines, used lyrics

  Or is it unexpected with a happy ending

  I’m not there yet

  Found it hard to

  Finish what I’ve started

  The right words never shot into my mind

  Tell me that you love me

  Tell me that you hate me

  Tell me the world’s not over me

  The world’s not over me.

  When his song ended, another came on. There were a few songs I’d never heard before, and as we turned into Damian’s neighborhood, Parachute’s “Kiss Me Slowly” filled my ears.

  Mr. Dempsey, the chauffer, pulled into the Lowell’s driveway. He opened the limo door. On the ground was a red carpet laid over the walkway leading to the front door.

  Oh, Damian!

  Christmas lights lined the enormous home and the two white pillars that loomed in front of me. At the end of the walkway, Damian, wearing black pants, a black suit coat, and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, stood holding his guitar. He smiled, his eyes sparkling.

  As Mr. Dempsey made the motion for me to take out the earbuds, Damian started strumming his guitar and singing the last song I just had on the iPod. Mr. Dempsey offered his hand, and I took it, rising to my feet. Then he nodded politely and disappeared inside the limo.

  Okay, this is too good to be true.

  Huge snowflakes floated down from the sky, but I didn’t notice the cold. I only saw Damian walking toward me, singing.

  “Just stay with me. Baby, stay with me.

  Well, I’m not sure where this is gonna go,

  but in this moment all I know,

  is the skyline through the window,

  the moon above you and the streets below.

  Hold my breath as you’re moving in.

  Taste your lips and feel your skin.

  When the time comes, baby, don’t run.

  Just kiss me slowly.”

  He ended the song standing directly in front of me, a coy smirk on his face. I didn’t think; I didn’t need to. Every inch of me wanted to wrap around him and kiss him, oh so slowly. And I did, with the snow falling in around us.

  Damian led me inside. His full lips formed into a seductive O when he slipped the coat from my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the hardwood floor. He glided his hands down my bare arms and kissed my shoulders. My eyelids closed as his warmth melted into me. His lips moved to my neck.

  He took my hand and led me into the formal dining room. I gasped. The massive table and chairs were gone, and in their place sat a small circular table with two black chairs. A black table cloth that reached the floor covered the table, and a single red rose in a vase had been placed in the center. Small candles littered the floor, making it sparkle like diamonds. Mr. Dempsey stood behind the table with a bottle of champagne.

  “Non-alcoholic,” Damian promised.

  “This is amazing,” I breathed, sitting down. “How’d you do all this?”

  A smirk played on his lips. “Dad helped.”

  “Really?” My eyebrows shot up, hopeful.

  Damian shrugged. “You’re the one thing we can agree on.”

  Excitement drained out of me. “I shouldn’t have that much power,” I murmured.

  Mr. Dempsey poured the champagne in our flutes and walked off.

  Damian rose his glass. “To you.”

  I shook my head. “No. To us.”

  We sipped on the champagne. Music played from a CD player in the corner, the same songs Damian had on the iPod in the limo.

  Mr. Dempsey placed a salad in front of each of us. After a few bites, I looked down at the plate of greens, over the stereo, then back up to Damian.

  “Come on,” I urged, scooting the chair back.

  “Oh, no. I don’t dance.”

  “Everyone can dance.” I grabbed his hand.

  “Yeah. No. Not everyone.”

  I yanked harder, and he gave in. “All right, but I warned ya.”

  He circled his arms around me and held me close. I leaned my head against his shoulder, listening to his heart beat. His lips pressed against my head as he swayed, not moving his feet. I didn’t care.

  When the last chord of the song was strung, I lifted my face.

  “See? I knew you could dance.”

  Damian grinned, showing off his deep dimples. “All I did was hold you.”

  “Close enough.”

  He moved closer, kissing me. I hungered for more, but Damian led us back to our table.

  “Not hungry?” Damian asked as he watched me toy with what was left of my salad.

  “Uh, not really.”

  Damian put his fork down, worry lines appearing on his forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Oh! Yes, I’m fine. Just not very hungry,” I assured him. He studied me skeptically. “Really. It’s just a side effect,” I continued.

  He picked his fork back up and took a bite, still scrutinizing me. To prove I felt fine, I copied him. He seemed satisfied.

  Mr. Dempsey brought in the main course—chicken primavera. I took a few bites but couldn’t force down much. The last thing I wanted to do was throw up. I set my fork down and watched Damian cut his chicken.

  “Much better than the hospital cafeteria,” I said.

  He laughed. “So is burnt liver.”

  I bit my lower lip. “You’re different.”

  “You’re worth it.”

  “Are you happy, Damian?”

  He curved up the corner of his mouth until he glowed. “I’ve never been happier.”

  “And the consequences of this happiness?”

  He reached for my hand across the table and squeezed it. “Good, bad, I’ll take it all.”

  Leslie’s words rang in my ears: If he falls for you, and you die, it’ll kill him. My voice shook. “And if…”

  “No matter what happens Kate, being with you, right now, tonight, is all worth it.”

  I hoped he was right.

  A tear slipped from my cheek as I gazed into his brilliant blue eyes.

  And I suddenly realized that I loved him.

  Chapter 12

  After dinner, we moved to the den where a roaring fire burned in the stone fireplace. A blanket, surrounded by pillows, lay on the floor. Damian propped some up on one end and tugged me down next to him, wrapping me in his arms. I slipped off my pumps and tossed them in the corner with Damian’s shoes.

  He left a trail of little kisses from below my ear to my lips and nestled his nose in my neck. I giggled and leaned back against the pillows.

  Damian’s fingers danced up and down my arm. “How was it?”

  I shook my head. “I’m…I’m speechless.”

  Damian caressed the side of my face. He tilted his head and teased my lips with his, tugging back when I wanted more. “Hmm,” he whispered. “Let’s keep it that way for awhile, shall we?”

  I chuckled and drew his head down until I was kissing him. His hands glided over my face, slid down my neck and side. I ran my fingers down his back then up through his hair. He broke the kiss and started nibbling on my earlobe. His soft moaning in my ear stirred the butterflies in my stomach.

  His fingers tightened over my hip. He lingered there for a moment then worked back up to my bare shoulder. His lips flitted down my skin until they reached the strap of my halter. On his way back to my mouth, I felt the tip of his tongue glide over my neck. A small gasp escaped me. Damian paused and looked at me, a sensual smile gracing his face. “Ohh, I like that.”

  He leaned in, his tongue playing against my lips. He didn’t kiss me again, even though I longed for it. Instead, he sat up, locking onto my eyes.

  “Katie, I don’t ever want to let you go.” I didn’t recognize the emotion hidden deep behind his irises. Desire? Sadness? Love?

  In response, I reached up, ran my fingers through his hair, and pulled him down, gr
ipping his lower lip between mine. Neither of us noticed Dr. Lowell standing in the doorway. He cleared his throat. My eyes shot open, and my hands dropped to my sides. Damian didn’t flinch. He took his time ending the kiss. Then he winked at me before turning his attention to his father.

  “The hospital called,” Dr. Lowell said. “I need to go in.”

  Damian nodded.

  “The roads are getting slick. It’s not safe to take Kate home tonight.”

  Something unfamiliar spread through my body. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

  Dr. Lowell continued. “I already called her parents. She’s going to stay here tonight.”

  What?! My parents are allowing this? They must think Dr. Lowell’s staying here, too!

  Shocked and happy, I squeezed Damian’s hand. I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but his father instantly clarified.

  “In the guest bedroom, Damian.”

  Damian shrugged. “Okay.”

  Dr. Lowell sent him a sideways glare and pointed at him. “I mean it, son.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Guest bedroom. I got it.”

  The doctor glanced over at me, then back at Damian. “I’ll be back soon.” He nodded once and walked away.

  Damian didn’t say anything about the exchange, which surprised me. I thought maybe he’d be happy that we’d be sleeping under the same roof. Instead, he got up and left.

  “Be right back.”

  Confused, I sat up and crossed my legs. My racing heart started to slow down and the butterflies calmed. I didn’t know what to do while I waited. I smoothed out the poufy skirt over my thighs and surveyed the den.

  I didn’t want to dwell too much on Damian’s nonchalance at my staying. Still—did it have something to do with me sleeping in the guest room? That hadn’t surprised me. What had me was Dr. Lowell’s casual manner in catching us making out on the floor. Had it happened so often that it was commonplace in this house?

  The black bra crossed my mind. No. Not tonight. I pushed the thought away.

  Damian didn’t stay gone long. He returned with two flutes of champagne. Sitting beside me, he pecked my cheek. That’s it. Just a peck. We sat in silence, sipping on our drinks.

  “Thanks,” I said. “So, what now?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Frowning, I sat the glass on the floor and slumped into the pillows.

  The passion from before had dissipated, and I was disappointed. I didn’t know where I had wanted it to go, exactly, but I knew I didn’t want it to end. Without warning, a tear slipped out, and I turned my head to the fire, not wanting Damian to see. I wiped it away.

  I scanned over Damian, who was concentrating on the doorway. His flute was empty already, and he tapped his fingers against the stem. I hugged my knees up against my chest, laying my head on my arms. What had I done wrong? Now, I realized, I felt unwanted. Damian wasn’t paying attention to me. He looked…bored.

  It crossed my mind to curl up on the pillows and fall to sleep. At least then, maybe, he’d lie next to me.

  I fidgeted with the Celtic charm lying against my chest. It hadn’t been removed from my neck since he gave it to me.

  My stare drifted back up to Damian. His brow was furrowed. He leaned to the side and stuck his neck as far over as he could. The flames danced off his face, illuminating the indifference in his eyes.

  I was about to focus my attention back to the fire and lie down when I heard a door close in the distance. A dimple deepened in his cheek, but he still ignored me.

  A car engine purred to life outside. Damian’s finger rolled over the top of his glass, making it hum. Headlights brightened the curtains then faded away.

  Swiftly, Damian jumped to his feet and pivoted toward me. He offered his hand. “Come on.” A glint had returned to his eyes.

  I bit my lip and cautiously took his hand. He lifted my chin and swept his lips over mine.

  “Your dad, he didn’t seem to care that…has that happened often?” My voice trailed off.

  Damian’s Adam’s apple rose and fell. “Uh. It’s just you, you know that, right?”

  I nodded.

  “What happened before you, I—”

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I don’t really want to know.”

  Do I?

  Damian’s shoulders relaxed. His lips pressed against the side of my neck. “It’s just you.” After a few moments, he tugged at my hand. “Come on.”

  I followed him out of the den. Jitters washed over me as we ascended the oak staircase.

  Suddenly, I was nervous. How far did I want to go? Was that what he was thinking?

  The memory of the black lace lingerie on his floor flashed in my mind again. As much as it worried me, I never had asked him about it. Obviously, he had experience, and that brought up its own set of questions. How would I compare? Would he compare me? What if I wasn’t any good? Would it hurt?

  He led me into his room. Six candles, three on each side of the bed on nightstands, were already lit. Soft music from dinner played on the stereo in a corner. Dirty clothes, Xbox games, Blu-Rays, shoes, and a whole slew of other stuff were piled in the corners. The blankets on his bed had been pulled up over the pillows. Was this what he’d done when he left me earlier?

  He didn’t plan this.

  The thought sent a tingle of anticipation through me.

  His eyes searched mine. I still didn’t know where I wanted this to go, but I reached up and stroked his cheek with the back of my hand. Slowly, I found my way into his hair and combed through it with my fingers.

  I felt his steady breath on my forehead. He still hadn’t said anything, he just watched me. Rising up on my tip-toes, I kissed him, my gaze never leaving his. He returned the kiss cautiously, hands at his sides.

  I placed one of his hands around my waist. With it, he pressed me up against him. He ended the kiss, and I swallowed hard as he raised his other hand and traced his fingertips over my lips. He licked his own, his brow furrowing slightly. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

  I glanced at the bed, then back up at him. “Damian, I’ve never…I’m a…” I let the words trail off.

  He nodded, knowingly. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

  “Okay,” I mouthed.

  Damian’s eyelids closed, and he leaned in. He cupped my head in both of his hands, and it was unhurried and deliberate. He took his time, considering every move before he made it. Part of me—a very small part—wondered if he thought he would break me like a porcelain doll. The rest of me drank it in, concentrating on every touch, every kiss, every ache in my own body.

  I found myself fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, gradually unlocking them, revealing the soft skin underneath. Damian watched my face as I stared at my own hands. I’d seen him shirtless before, but this time I ran my hands over his hard chest, enjoying how the warmth radiated through my fingers and into my abdomen. When I undid the last button, I slid both of my hands over his stomach and up around his shoulders. He arched his back slightly, allowing his shirt and jacket to fall to the floor.

  Swallowing, I glanced up at him before moving forward and kissing his chest over the Celtic tattoo. His hands glided over the bare part of my back. It tickled as his fingers caressed me, stirring tiny tremors under my skin.

  His hands floated up my back to the straps of my halter fastened behind my neck. Holding them for a few seconds, he waited. When I didn’t say anything, he unsnapped them, then started kissing my collar bone. He slipped the straps down, his mouth following. The room suddenly got hotter, and it was getting more difficult to breathe. I tensed as his lips pressed against the swell of my breasts. The sensation that soared through me shot thrilling pin-pricks up my spine. I gasped.

  Damian stopped. “Do you want me to—”

  I shook my head. “No,” I managed through uneven breaths. “Don’t.”

  He clamped my face in his hands, his blue irises searing with restraint. “I need more, Kate,” he said, his voice deep. “Do
n’t what?”

  I ran my palms over his chest, unable to look him in the eye. “Don’t stop.”

  It wasn’t until the words came out that I meant them. I’d never wanted him more than I did right then. After touching his bare skin, I knew nothing else would satisfy me.

  Letting go, hunger suddenly blazed in his eyes. He bent over, tucked his arm under my knees and swept me off the floor. I threw my arms around his neck, holding him close and sucking his earlobe into my mouth.

  He laid me on his bed over the black comforter. The tantalizing smirk on his face made my stomach burn. I didn’t want him to pause, but he did. He straightened up, slipped off his belt, and tossed it on the floor. My heart pounded, almost hitting my ribs.

  Damian crawled in bed beside me, and I rolled to my side, facing him. He ran his hand over my cheek.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, sliding his fingers over my bald head and behind my ear as if tucking away a lock of hair.

  His lips pressed over mine then separated, sucking my lip into his mouth and massaging my tongue with his. I arched into him.

  Passion fueled his kisses, but he still moved so slowly. Every so often, he’d hesitate, squeezing his eyes shut and holding me a little too tight.

  Heat from his breath rolled over my neck. “Oh, Kate. It’s so hard to…”

  The muscles in his shoulders tensed, and his fingers dug into my back.

  “What?” I breathed.

  His grip loosened, and the tension flowed out of him. “Nothing,” he said against my lips.

  Damian placed a hand on my hip and pressed it into his. Over my full skirt, he glided down until he reached the bottom hem and found skin. He hooked his hand around my knee and wrapped my leg over his. My breath caught as his fingers slithered behind my thigh and rounded the edge of my bikini line. I whimpered when they slipped under the elastic at my hip.

  He grinned, his dimples sinking. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  The corners of my mouth tried to curl, but it was so hard to concentrate on anything else. Damian gripped my bottom, squeezing, and I tilted my face to the ceiling and pushed my hips into him. His tongue tickled my neck, eliciting a soft moan from my throat.