by Gigi Black
“You’re delusional, is what you are.”
“So, if you’re not here for me…” he laughed into my ear, his spicy amber cologne washing over me. “Then why are you already dripping wet?”
This time I did pull away from him, stumbled, and nearly fell.
He caught me by the arms and spung me around, snuggling my ass to his body. The outline of his erection pressed into me, hidden beneath his smart suit jacket, and I forced myself not to squirm.
Damien loved getting a reaction out of women. He loved being in control.
“I’m leaving,” I said.
“I don’t think you are.” He looped his arms around my waist and pointed, directing my attention toward the raised VIP area. A velvet rope separated the plebeians from the celebrities’ local or international.
“You think I’m going to go up there with you?” I asked, holding myself stiff and unyielding. The minute I melted into his arms, it would be over. That was Damien’s way.
Melt, and he’d pull you apart and put you back together again, except the pieces that you started out with wouldn’t be the same anymore. You’d always carry a little bit of Woods with you. A little corner of pain and pleasure that made your insides thrum and scream.
Idiot.
“I don’t think you’re going up there with me,” he whispered, breath chasing against my ear. “I know you are.”
“Dream on.” I moved, and his grip tightened. “Damien.”
“For once in your life, Hazel, use your fucking eyes.”
“Excuse me?”
He pressed his fingers to my chin and directed my head to the right.
My sister sat on one of the silvery velvet sofas on the raised dais, sipping out of a champagne flute and flirting relentlessly with a suited guy next to her. Her breasts were practically falling out of her tiny red dress.
Any heat that’d swirled through me moments before evaporated like piss on snow. “What the fuck. Who is that?” It wasn’t Kara’s boyfriend. “Kara!” I slipped free of Damien’s grasp and walked for the VIP section.
A bouncer stepped in front of me. “Ma’am, this is an off—ah, Mr. Woods.”
“She’s with me.” Damien slid a hand into the small of my back, and the rope lifted.
“Like hell I am,” I growled, marching up the steps toward my twin sister, who was too busy tongue-fucking the suited guy’s mouth to notice me coming.
This was the trouble with Damien Woods. The minute he appeared in the picture, everything and everyone was drawn into his orbit and lost their damn minds. And now, my sister had been sucked into his vortex.
And so have you.
5
Damien
Had I planned to run into her here? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
Was that a lie? Yes.
I needed Hazel. She didn’t know it yet, but she needed me too, and not just in her bed and between her legs.
Getting her here had been easy. All it had taken was a call to one of my many contacts who’d given me her sister’s name, number, and plans—to audition for an upcoming commercial. A buyout had afforded Kara, said sister, with the part, and me with her in the VIP booth so I could get Hazel here.
Hazel in her skimpy black dress with its incredibly low neckline. Her ass was a thing of wonder still, but I forced myself to calm the fuck down. I hadn’t stalked the shit out of her to get into her pants. That was easily done. No, having her here was… a necessity.
She was the only woman I’d trust to help me with my little situation. And she was the only woman desperate enough to say yes.
Time will tell.
“Kara!” Hazel stomped to a halt in front of her twin sister—identical to her, but, somehow, not as attractive to me. “Kara, stop.” Hazel lifted her glittery black clutch and tapped her sister on the head with it.
Kara, who’d been attached to one of my business acquaintances, Jason, extricated herself from his groping. Miracles did happen—I’d figured it would take a surgical procedure to separate them. Kara sprang up the minute she realized it was her sister knocking. Thankfully, Kara wasn’t drunk. “Hazey!” She threw her arms around Hazel’s neck. “Hazey, you came.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Hazel screeched over the music. “Are you insane? Who is this guy? What are you doing here with… with Damien?” The last part came out hesitant, but I still heard it.
I stood next to Hazel, watching the interaction. Man, she’d changed, but she hadn’t at the same time. She was just as sexy and nerdy and sweet and all the other shit in between that made me want to take her in my arms and fuck up her entire life.
But that wasn’t on the cards.
Kara had been muttering something to her sister, but she straightened now, giving her a defiant look. “I’m staying,” she said. “It’s a good night, Haze. I got the audition. I did it. I’m going to be a friggin’ toothpaste superstar.”
“That’s not a thing,” Hazel replied.
“You’re so judgmental.” Kara jabbed a finger at her sister. “You always think I’m the irresponsible, bad one but the minute I do something cool… you’re just jealous.”
“Jealous.” Hazel folded her arms, pressing her breasts together. I didn’t stare. Not too much anyway. “I am not jealous, Kara. I’m concerned about you. Where’s Timmy?”
“We broke up,” Kara spat. “And I don’t care where he is. Look, either you’re here to celebrate with me, or you can just—leave.” She plopped down in Jason’s lap again and proceeded to explore the back of his throat with her tongue.
Hazel glared at her sister, but Kara was oblivious.
“Kara, we need to go,” she said. “You’re not in your right mind.”
Her sister ignored her.
I placed a couple fingers in the small of Hazel’s back, blessing the thin silk that gave me a hint of the warmth of the skin underneath. Christ, it was a blessing that I couldn’t sleep with her now.
“Leave her,” I said. “Let her have some fun, Hazel. She deserves a break, don’t you think?”
Hazel spun toward me, her chin rising, her lips glossy and kissable. “You don’t know her,” she snapped. “You don’t know anything about her or me.”
“That can change.”
“I told you to go fuck yourself, right?”
“Hmm. Something along those lines. Not that I’ll ever need to ‘fuck myself,’ as you so eloquently put it.”
“Right.” Hazel nodded. “Right. Because you can get pussy at the drop of a hat.”
“With a look.” I held her gaze. I’d never heard her say the word ‘pussy’ before. She’d definitely changed. Shit, of course she had. She was a grown-ass woman, and she was ready to chew my head off. I liked that. Backbone, defiance, desire—a combination that made for amazing sex.
Stop it, dickwad.
“Look,” I said, slowly, “You can leave if you want, but you’ll only be leaving her here with Jason.” I cast a look at my business acquaintance. “And with me. I’ll promise you that I’ll get her back to her apartment safely.”
“As if I’d believe that,” she replied.
“Then you only have one option,” I said. “Stay. Here.”
Her jaw worked.
“I’ll make sure both of you get home safe.”
“I don’t need your help,” she replied.
“I’m guessing you got here in a cab?”
Her lack of answer was all the confirmation I needed.
“And you know that Kara here isn’t going to want to go home with you right now. I can’t imagine feeding her into a cab is on your list of ‘shit I want to do on a Friday night.’”
“It’s been years, but you’re still insufferable,” Hazel said, her breasts still pressed together in that completely delectable fashion.
“Right. I’m still right.” I offered her a cocky grin. “Sit with me for a drink. Let your sister have her fun. In a half an hour, we’ll get her out of here.”
Hazel ground her teeth, the strobe lights from the danc
efloor illuminating the contours of her face. Her soft green eyes glittered, her button nose was practically kissable, and her lips… fuck. Her lips.
“Come on,” I said, gesturing toward the table I’d been at before she’d walked in and distorted reality with that ass. “Let’s have a drink.”
“I’m not going home with you.”
“No shit,” I said. “I don’t want you to.”
She stiffened.
I laughed. “You’ve got to decide what you want, gorgeous. Do you want me to want you or not?”
She chose not to answer and pushed past me instead. She sat at the table, and I took a place next to her, gesturing to the bartender at the VIP bar. Moments later, we were supplied with two beers.
“You didn’t ask what I wanted,” Hazel said, eying the lager.
“You used to like this.” I turned the bottle—it was a craft beer made locally. “Back in the day.”
Hazel didn’t say anything but did pick up the beer. She took a sip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, but only for a second. Her worried gaze kept traveling to Kara and her tonsil-hockey buddy.
A responsible woman who loved her family. See, that was why we were such a fucking mismatch. And why this was going to work. The business agreement.
Now wasn’t the time to spring it on her, though.
“How are you?” I asked.
She glared at me.
“It’s a genuine question, Hazel. You can hate me all you want, but it won’t change shit. I fucked you, and I left.”
“I’m aware,” she replied. “But I don’t give a shit about that. I just don’t trust you, Woods.” She flicked her fingers like she’d just flicked off a bit of lint. “I don’t trust your motives or your stares or anything at all. You just happen to be at the club where I’m meeting my sister? And she’s up here with you? It’s like you organized it.”
“Paranoid,” I said. “Do you really think I’d go to such an effort to see you again? After all these years. I’ve been in Chicago plenty. Why now?”
She didn’t answer, probably because she couldn’t think of a good reason.
“You look great,” I said.
“Mmm. Spare me.”
“You do, Hazel. It’s nice to touch base with you again, even if it’s just for a night.”
“Not even that,” she replied. “I’m just here for Kara.”
Little did she know that I was about to change her life all over again.
6
Hazel
I sipped my beer, despising every second of being in the VIP area with Damien next to me. I didn’t belong here, not with him and not on my own. It was just a reminder of what I hadn’t achieved. Then again, I’d never wanted to “achieve” this type of lifestyle.
McCutcheon’s Café was a family-style eatery, and I’d always pictured myself running it, maybe settling down one day in the distant future, having a daughter or son who would grow up working in it like I had.
I sighed and placed the beer on the table, purposefully shifting my gaze away from Damien and his ridiculous sex appeal.
His dark hair was the kind women dreamed of running their fingers through, and his suit jacket hinted at muscles in all the right places. Warmth from his body radiated against my right side, and my nipples were in a permanent state of “hey, bitch, why don’t you take him home?”
The girls were betraying me.
I sucked in several deep and slow breaths, looking over at Ka. She was practically straddling the new guy, now, and it irked me, deeply. This wasn’t her. Sure, she was a party girl, but she’d been loyal to Timmy.
“God damnit, Kara,” I whispered.
“You want to get her home,” Damien said.
“Yeah, that’s the general idea, but she’s not exactly in the most malleable mood.” I turned to him, and my heart fluttered. Did he have to have such dark, meaningful eyes? Seriously, someone up there had decided to create the perfect man. And then someone down below had decided to imbue him with the cold ability to crush hearts.
“Stay here.” Damien got up and unbuttoned his suit jacket, the flash of cotton shirt a tease. He strode over to Kara and the guy whose mouth she’d decided to inhabit. He tapped the “acquaintance” on the shoulder, bent, and said something.
Next thing, the guy was up and rearranging his shirt and jacket. He nodded to Damien, gave Kara a quick kiss on the cheek, then rushed off.
“Hey!” Kara shouted. “Hey, where are you going? What the fuck? Jason!”
Damien bent and spoke to her next.
She pouted but eventually nodded and got up, grabbing her purse from the velvet upholstered chair next to her. Kara stood with her arms folded, glaring off to one side, her brow furrowed and her jaw set.
Damien strolled over. “Ready to go?”
“What did you do?” I asked. “And why didn’t you do it sooner?”
“I did what I do best,” he answered. “And I was hoping I’d get a moment to talk to you, Hazel. Not a single man in here would blame me for that. Coming?” He offered a hand.
I got up without taking it and brushed past him. “Ka,” I said. “Are you going to explain to me what’s going on?”
“Just butt out, OK?” Kara snapped. “I’m not in the mood for your judgmental, self-righteous bullshit.”
It was a slap in the face. I immediately backed up, stinging in a way I couldn’t quite fathom. I wasn’t self-righteous. Judgmental, probably, but I’d wanted to help her. That was what family did. That was what we’d always done—stuck together.
Damien appeared next to me, and my anger at him redoubled. If he’d just stayed away from her… or me? It didn’t matter.
“Shall we?” he asked.
The car ride in the back of his luxury SUV was uncomfortable. I was sandwiched between him and my sister, hot on one side and cold and angry on the other. The chauffer escorted Kara all the way up to her apartment door, and I shifted over to the window seat, the leather squeaking beneath me, to ensure she got inside OK.
Silence pervaded the space between us, and I was grateful for the little window that separated the front of the car from the back—at least the driver wasn’t subject to the awkwardness.
The car started and drove off.
“My address,” I said, suddenly, turning to Damien. “I forgot to—”
“He already has it.”
“What? How?”
“I remember where you stay,” Damien replied, smoothly, lounging on the leather seat, his jacket fully unbuttoned now, and the white cotton shirt underneath hugging his muscles. “You didn’t really think I’d forget, did you Hazel?”
“We haven’t spoken in fourteen years. Why would you remember?”
“How could I forget?” he asked.
I wouldn’t fall for this. It was bullshit. Just another ploy for him to get in my pants. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“Ditto,” Damien said. “I’ve got plans for you, Miss McCutcheon, ones that don’t involve multiple orgasms, as I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.”
“W–what?” I spluttered it out. “Plans?”
He smirked at me, and I was back in the past again, that smile directed at me in the hallways of the high school while the popular girls looked on in hatred and anger. “That’s right,” he replied. “Plans. But that doesn’t matter now. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, over lunch.”
“No. I have work tomorrow. And I want nothing to do with you or your plans.” I gave him my saltiest look. “Understand me now, Woods, this is the last time you’ll see me ever again. Ever again. All right?”
“You’re still so fucking bitter over a fuck in high school.”
“You took my virginity!” I snapped. “And you left without saying a god damn word. And from what I’ve heard, I’m not the only woman you’ve done that to. You’re a pig. A sexist, objectifying pig.”
“Believe what you want to believe,” he said, shifting his gaze to the window and the city streets flicki
ng by. “In fact, it’s probably better if you think that way.”
It’s a trick. He’s saying the things you want to hear.
“Whatever.” The rest of the ride passed in silence, him completely relaxed and occasionally looking over at me, the scent of his cologne heady and overwhelming.
I tried not to stare. I hated the guy. Or rather, I had hated him, and I would never trust him. He was an asshole.
We arrived at my dad’s house, all the lights inside off, and Damien got out of the car. I opened my door before he could get to it and try to bullshit that he was a gentleman. He offered me a hand regardless.
Once again, I walked past him. He followed me through the front gate and all the way up to the front door. He stopped on the concrete landing, towering over me as I fumbled my keys out of my purse. I dropped my bag like a total idiot, and we bent at the same time to grab it. Our fingers brushed, and electric heat shot through me.
It tore through my chest and down into my abdomen, lighting me up inside like he’d set off fireworks in my core.
“Jesus,” he said, clearing his throat and meeting my eyes.
“What?” I managed not to stammer.
We straightened, with him holding my glittery clutch. He stroked his thumb over it, dark eyes on me.
“What?” I repeated.
“You’re the only woman who’s ever done that to me, Hazel.” He handed me the purse, and we touched again.
Another shot of pure heat, and my nipples puckered. “Fuck you,” I said. “Fuck you, Damien. Fuck you.”
“Say it one more time, and I’ll make your wish my command.”
I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth, my fingers trembling on my clutch. There’d only been one other man since Damien. A long relationship that had been painful and empty because I’d refused to open up properly to him, because I couldn’t trust anyone. The sex had been vanilla, nothing that made my pulse pound.
Standing here, looking up at him, despising him and wanting him in equal parts was more excitement than I’d felt in the fourteen years since he’d last touched me.
“Say it,” he said, touching a hand to my cheek.