by L. J. Woods
Jo
Damien stares at me like I’m the last girl on earth.
Like the last bottle in the cabinet.
My heart feels like I’m on a treadmill. A very fast treadmill and the longer I stare into his eyes, the tighter the knot in my stomach feels.
Is he gonna say it?
If he can, if he does, he’ll make it so much easier to give in to these feelings. To know that I’m not gonna wake up one morning and have the rug pulled out from under me.
I want Damien King. I can’t deny it and everything leading up to this proves that. Including last night. My heart thuds against my chest, his kaleidoscope eyes making me weak.
“Fuck, Jo I—” A melody plays from his pocket and I’m begging him not to reach for that phone. He looks at, fist slamming against the rail before he picks up. “It’s Allie.”
I can hear her through the phone. “Do you guys see her?”
Shit. I take a peek over the rail, scanning the waterfront but I don’t see that head of black shiny hair anywhere. No headband in sight. Shaking my head I look back at Damien.
He sighs, “We would’ve told you if—”
“Wait,” I say, my eyes landing on a group of students following a tall man with round glasses and a goatee. They’re making their way into a glass building but one of them stops to look around. My eyes narrow. One with a red headband. “I see her.”
“We have a match.” Damien leans over the rail with me, his eyes scoping out the scene.
“A match?” I ask.
He glances at me, a smirk on his face. “Isn’t that what they say?”
“When you’re swiping on Flingster. Wait.” Now I’m curious. “Are you on Flingster?”
“Jealous?”
Ew. “Are you?”
“Guys!” Allie calls through the phone and when my eyes whip back to the building, Lea’s on her own.
“Go, Allie!” I say into Damien’s mic, the minute I do, the man with the goatee peeks through the door, calling to Lea. “Go, now!” My voice must carry because both Lea and the man look up at us.
“Fuck,” Damien mutters. My eyes are still on Lea when Allie arrives in a flash, grabbing her hand and running. Damien takes my hand in his, a shock in my palm. “C’mon, Rowland, we gotta move.”
We’re back in the lobby before I know it and on the way out, we bump right into Allie and Lea.
“Medusa?” Lea sounds surprised to see me.
“C’mon!” Damien yells, tugging me along, my heart racing.
Great. First a murder, now a kidnapping. If her teacher calls the cops, we’re fucking toast. I’m fucking toast.
Damien leads us into a narrow alley behind an iron fence, pulling me behind a dumpster. Allie and Lea push into the tiny spot with us. I’m out of shape, my breath as heavy as it was last night in the train bathroom.
“I don’t see anyone,” Damien says when he peeks around the green metal dumpster wall. “I’m gonna call a car and get us out of here.”
SMACK!
The sound echoes in the alley before I realize what’s happened, a stinging burn coming to my cheek. When I look ahead, Lea’s smirking. My fists clench and I’m about to deck her in the face before Allie comes between us. “You fucking slapped me!”
Damien shushes me.
“What the fuck, Lea?” Allie whispers.
“You clearly brought her here for me to slap her,” Lea says, eyes narrowing. “Because she’s the reason I’m in this hell-hole.”
Fine, I’ll take that. Maybe it’ll help to stop the guilt from what I did.
Damien shushes us again, tapping at his phone. “Lea, if you touch her again, we’re leaving you.”
It’s too easy to stick my tongue out at her from behind Allie before Lea reaches for me again.
“Lea!” Allie stops her, getting yet another hush from Damien.
“I can’t believe you brought her here,” Lea says, keeping her voice hushed. “She’s as gross as those out-of-season knee-highs you wear.”
“She owed me and I couldn’t do it without her,” Allie explains. “Wait, my boots are gross?”
“Yeah,” Lea doubles-down, brushing at her skirt. “Like you got them at a vintage shop in the eighteenth arrondissement. Not the good part.”
“The first thing you do after I save your ass from your school is to insult me?” Allie asks. “You’re such a fucking brat.”
Lea smiles, blinking.
My jaw is on the floor watching these two. They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity before Allie lunges for a kiss, Lea latching to her like a monkey. They go at it, Lea’s leg hitching under Allie’s ass, her jewelled fingers grabbing her hair.
Damien watches them with a smirk on his face and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. They’re not too far off from us. I don’t even know how Allie can kiss someone like that but I’m sure she’s wondering the same thing about Damien and me. As they go at it like flies to moulding fruit, Damien’s eyes bore into me. Like he’s trying to tell me something with the way his eyes sparkle under the sun. The sound of an engine pulls me out of his gaze and when I look to the left, there’s a black car waiting.
“Let’s go,” Damien says before he leads us to the car and opens the door. He ushers Lea inside, pulling them apart before Allie follows.
I’m about to do the same when there’s a tug on my arm, my boots skidding against the concrete.
“Not so fast!”
Pulling away, the grip tightens. When I look over my shoulder, the man from the Science Centre has me in his clutches, a glare on his goateed face.
“Get the fuck off her!” Damien yells. He’s by my side in a flash, shoving on the man’s chest.
“What? No,” he says, unthreatened by Damien’s demeanour. “Are you drinking? Just what do you kids think you’re doing?” I’m struggling to get out of his hold but he has a grip on my jacket tighter than Jaws.
“Sir?” The driver looks out the window.
“Go!” Damien yells before turning his attention back to the man, car pulling off. “I’m giving you two more seconds to get your filthy fucking hands off her. One.”
“That’s my student!”
“And that’s my girl. Two.”
CRACK!
Fuck.
Damien’s fist goes flying in the man’s nose, his grip finally loosening, my arm flying free. A whistle blows and when my head whips to the sound, an officer has his eyes on us. He yells something in French, crossing the cobblestoned street before Damien locks his eyes with mine.
“Run,” he says.
And I do.
Fast.
I’m not sure where I’m going, crossing a street into another small alley. Damien’s boots thud behind me before another whistle blows.
“Arrêt! Arrêt! Stop!”
My heart pounds against my chest but I keep running before cold fingers wrap around mine. The smell of peppermint and weed comes closer, my hand in Damien’s and I hold on tight, moving with him through the streets. We dodge carts and restaurant signs before ducking down another small path.
We’re almost at the end before he pulls me into a narrow opening, walls covered in vines on each side. The space is just big enough for us, my back pressed against a wall.
My eyes land on his, my breaths heavy. Damien’s is the same. It reminds me of how we are when we’re tearing each other’s clothes off. There’s a whistle in the distance, the yell of a man but all I can stare at are those eyes.
Pulling my gaze away, my stomach doing flips, my eyes fall to his hard pecs, his chest moving up and down under that jacket. Damien slips it off and I watch him mesmerized as it reveals his tattooed arms. Then the other. The sweat in his hair makes a few strands fall in his face. And before I can ask, he brings his fingers to his lips before he presses his mouth to mine.
The last thing I see before my eyes close is the officer running by, my mind warping again, my chest booming from the adrenaline. From Damien.
&n
bsp; He makes me feel like I’ve taken a bucket of Quickbull to the dome and when his hands come to my waist, mine come to his chest.
He eases up when I press on his pecs, looking at me with furrowed brows. So I explain, “The officer’s gone.”
“So?” While that makes me feel better that this wasn’t only a getaway show, there’s still too much in my mind to stop my hesitation. He growls, “I want you. Now.”
“Now?” I scoff, hiding the fact that I want that very thing. Damien inside me. His fingers and tongue work magic but they’re never enough. Still, I fight it. “When we’re running away from cops, again? We killed someone, then we kidnapped someone else. Who the fuck are we? Bonnie and Clyde? I can’t keep this shit up if I want a good life for Willow. If I want a good life for myself!”
Damien’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his eyes on me. “Jesus. Keep your voice down, Rowland.” I can feel his heartbeat against mine, his chest as warm as my face, even with his jacket off. “I’m getting us out of this. Just trust—”
“Trust you?” It’s hard not to laugh like I’ve finally lost it. “Why the fuck should I trust anything you have to say? Why the fuck should I even listen to another—?”
“Because I love you.” His forehead meets mine, hand on the wall next to me.
“Word,” I finish the sentence, stunned.
Finally.
His forehead crinkles, his eyes an inch away and I’m drowning in them as much as I am in this feeling enveloping me.
“Word?” He sounds nervous. He never sounds nervous and fuck, it’s making me nervous. “That’s all you have to say? After all that? Geez, Rowland, you’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“No, I was finishing my sentence, you caught me off guard.” I know what he’s waiting for.
When my teeth sink into my lip, he presses his hip into me and that feeling only makes this as hard as he is.
His finger hits my cheek, and for once, he’s being patient, even though he won’t let up. Won’t lessen the pressure of his body on me. When another moment passes, his shoulders fall. “You serious?”
“What?”
“You won’t even say it back.” His forehead leaves mine and he looks down at my tits but it’s not in admiration. A look of disgust comes on his face. “Look at you. Were you bluffing this whole time?”
“No, I’m just—” Before I can finish my sentence, Damien’s grabbing me by my legs, throwing me over his shoulder in classic Damien fashion. “The fuck are you doing?”
“We’re settling this.”
Eleven
Damien
“A Ferris wheel?” Jo breaks her silence when our gondola approaches.
“Observation wheel,” I correct her.
She didn’t say anything when I bought the tickets, her body still flung over my shoulder. I’m surprised the guy behind the counter didn’t ask any questions either. For that, he earned himself a nice tip.
It starts to snow and Jo looks cute as fuck when a few flakes land in her hair. On her nose. When she pulls her jacket around her, I know she’s cold but in a few moments, I’ll warm her up. Our gondola arrives, a glass-windowed car with sliding doors, and in minutes we’re seated inside.
“Holy shit,” she says looking down.
A glass floor sits below us but I’m not here for the view. Not that one anyway. I don’t care about the Italian leather on the seats, don’t care about the Dom in the built-in cooler. All I see is her. There’s nowhere for her to run. That means there’s also nowhere for me to run either. It’s a slow, smooth ride, the city appearing beneath us before Jo looks at me.
“So what is this?” she asks. “You all of a sudden up for an amusement park ride?”
Dropping my jacket to the ground, my shirt comes off my head next, the air warm against my chest. “Take it off.” Enough of this shit.
Her brows furrow before they drop to my abs but I’m dead serious. “You want me to strip?” she asks, looking around the space. “Right here? In a glass room on a Ferris wheel? What if someone sees?”
“Take. It. Off,” I repeat, my voice filling our little space.
That clench of her jaw, that little twitch of her eyebrow says there’s no way she’s about to back down. Stubborn as fuck.
“Why don’t you come take it off?” she teases, hands on her hips, the river coming into view behind her.
“Not until you say it.”
That gets her to drop her jacket before she crosses her arms in front of her, pulling off her hoodie. Her hair falls on her bare shoulders, brushing those round, brown tits. My cock presses against my jeans watching her pull on the band of her joggers, giving me a glimpse of her black panties.
“You sure you don’t wanna take the rest of this off?”
She’s dodging, but I’m not budging. Sitting on one of the beige leather seats, I cross my arms. I can be stubborn too. “Say it.”
“You say it.” She pushes her joggers down to her ankles before she crosses her arms but my eyes fall back to her perfect thighs. That plump ass. Her sandy skin matches the gold in her eyes and the streaks in her hair, the sun shining behind her.
Perfection.
“I love you, Jo.” She’s silent but a smile tugs at my lips when I say it, her arms falling as my eyes wander that perfect fucking body. “I love you but you don’t get off easy.”
“Fuck.” There’s a pull at her lips like she’s fighting a smile. Stepping out of her joggers, she walks towards me, brown nipples perky. While I want them in my mouth, I want to hear those words more.
She straddles me, her warm pussy heating the fabric of my pants, my cock pressing against her.
That Medusa gaze hits me before she speaks, “We’re fucked up and I mean beyond fucked up. But I love you, Damien King.” There’s a blur in her eyes and there’s a warmth spreading through my chest knowing it’s not from pain. It’s not from hurt. “I’m sorry it to—”
I don’t let her finish her sentence. My lips crash into hers and that taste takes over me again. Sweet honey. Sweet Jo. I don’t need an apology. I just need her. Saying those words gets rid of my fear. My doubts. My arms wrap around her waist while she wraps those long, slender legs around me, her warm thighs squeezing into my ribs.
“I love you, King,” her lips land against my ear, her words a moan that makes me rock hard.
“Say it again,” I groan.
“I love you.” She presses her lips to mine and the way she’s kissing me feels different, her smile against my face.
It’s deeper, like she’s finally putting in her all. Like if she stops, so will her breath. Shit, all it took was being honest with each other. Honest that we’re actually in love with our biggest enemy.
“I want you,” she moans against my lips and damn, I love that sound.
I love her.
With her arms and legs around me, I get up, my hands under her ass before I press her back against the glass wall.
“You don’t know what that does to me,” I growl, sinking my teeth into the thin skin of her neck. My hand pushes between her legs. “And now I want to feel what I do to you.”
With her body pinned between the glass and my chest, she pushes off my jacket and I love the wildfire in her eyes, the animal she is when she’s with me.
When I find her soaking folds I let her know, “You stay wet for me, don’t you?” Yanking on her hair, I know she loves it when she lets out that little gasp, her chin pointed. “Say it again.”
Pushing my fingers inside her, I give myself an extra treat when she moans those words again, “I fucking love you.”
Then I can’t take it. Pushing her legs off me I turn her around, pressing her tits into the glass. When my pants drop to the ground, my cock springs out of my boxers, large and in charge. Taking a step back, she pokes that plump little ass out.
“And what does that mean, Rowland?” I growl.
Jo raises her hands above her head against the glass, her chin over her shoulder. Those eyes drop to m
y cock before they meet my gaze, a nibble on her lip. “I’m yours.”
Fuuuck, yes.
The gondola wobbles when I damn near pounce on her. There’s something about those words that turn me into the monster I am.
“Fuck me like I’m yours, King.” Her voice is soft and airy but demanding and the way she’s begging for it makes me do just that.
“You are mine.” Pushing my cock inside her, I get that warm feeling rolling over me again. Like coming home.
“God, yes!”
The city moves by as I move my hips and I don’t care who sees my cock buried in my girl. With a few more thrusts she begs, “Harder, King! Fuck me like you love me.”
With a smack of her ass, I pull out, flipping her around to meet my smirk. My fingers against her chest, I keep her back against the glass. With her hands on her tits, pinching her nipples she watches as my eyes take in every bit of her. From her scar matching mine in that tattooed forearm to those slender shoulders. Those toned, track-star legs.
“Done already?” she asks.
Not a chance. “Put those fingers inside you.”
“You love being in charge of me, King?” She doesn’t hesitate, moaning when she slips two fingers over her clit before pushing them inside her. “Tell me what you want. I’m yours.”
“Jesus, Rowland,” I grunt, my cock throbbing in my fist, stiffening harder in my hold. “Yeah, that’s right, fuck yourself like it’s my cock.”
I don’t even have to tell her to keep her eyes on me and when she brings those fingers from her pussy to her lips, I almost explode.
She sees it because she saunters that sexy ass towards me and when she pushes against my chest, I’m too distracted. I lose my balance, ass hitting the glass floor.
Growling, I pull her down with me, flipping her over. Pinning her hands beside her head, the city moves underneath us, my cock near her entrance.
She’s staring at me like I’ve never seen before. No tension. No pain. Just pure bliss.
“This is unreal,” she whispers against my lips and when I push inside her this time, her nails slash against my back. “Fuck!”
Thighs pressing into my ribs, it only makes me want to fuck her harder. The pain in my skin is nothing compared to how I feel without her.