Full Disclosure (No Secrets Book 1)

by Julie Olsen

  Oh Damien, you must have been so lonely for so long.

  “I don’t care about your money, Damien. And I want to know everything there is to know about you. That’s the truth.”

  He smiled and nestled into my hand. “I believe you, baby.”

  CHAPTER 21

  My eyes opened and slowly focused on the strange surroundings. Filtered light flooded the room, but it was not harsh. In fact, it was comforting, like the kind of soft light that used to envelope me as a child, when I’d lie and stare at the hazy sunlight flickering through the leaves of a billowing weeping willow in our back yard.

  As a twelve-year-old girl, I had spent many hours hiding under its draping boughs, thinking about life and my place in the world. Lucy and I used it as a type of clubhouse when we’d been younger, before Lucy had grown up and found other, less childlike, pursuits. But for me, the tree remained my sanctuary. It became a shelter during those early teenage years, until a wind storm toppled it one night when I was fifteen and Mom and Dad were forced to have it cut up and hauled off.

  That tree. I hadn’t thought about it in years. Until now.

  Damien lay on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, the other tucked underneath my neck. Our legs were tangled under the covers. I listened to his even breathing and smiled as I remembered the events of the previous evening. He was so forthcoming, so genuine. I wanted answers and he gave them to me. Full disclosure.

  Carefully, I moved my head and gazed on my sleeping man. His face was in repose, more relaxed than I had ever seen him. His beard had grown in the night, covering his face with a dark blond scruff. His bicep bulged in a way that made me want to lick it. His sculpted lips were slightly parted, and my belly fluttered at the memory of what he had done with those lips last night.

  I slowly rose to my elbow and let my eyes drift down his body, my breath hitching at the unmistakable outline of morning wood. I just hoped I didn’t have the unmistakable stink of morning breath as I leaned over and pressed my lips to his.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” I said against his mouth. He woke instantly and wasted no time, his tongue delving inside my mouth, his arms coming around to trap me and pull me flush against him.

  He hummed contently into my mouth as he explored every part of it. “My vixen is awake, and if I didn’t know better I’d think she was trying to seduce me.” His voice was raspy, morning soft, and oh-so-sexy.

  I broke away from his kiss and rolled onto my knees so that I was straddling him. “Trying? I thought it was a done deal, but apparently I forgot to add the cherry on top.”

  His eyes squinted appraisingly, a slow grin lighting up his stunning face.

  “Lie back and enjoy yourself, Damien,” I said, before kissing my way down his rippled, tanned belly.

  * * *

  Emerging forty minutes later from the shower, I dried off quickly and wrapped my hair in a towel before going in search of coffee and Damien. Passing the rumpled bed, I mentally flexed my feminine muscles. I was hopped up on a sexual power trip courtesy of one amazing wake-up blowjob. Damien was always so giving and patient, making sure I orgasmed until I couldn’t take anymore. For once I had been able to be the one who gave without taking, and it was a heady feeling. In fact, I couldn’t decide which I liked more, the giving or the receiving.

  Damien was not in the kitchen or in the palatial living area. There was a door in the floor to ceiling window and I opened it, stepping out onto a large terrace complete with freshly blooming flowers and shrubs bordering a twenty-foot walkway. As I followed the path, I found a small serpentine swimming pool. On the roof! Since it was April, it was breezy out here, or maybe that was just the way it was when you live in the clouds.

  I was forced to hold onto my towel so it didn’t blow away. I walked around the entire rooftop, looking down on St. Louis from each of the four corners. The abundant plant life made me feel like I was in a beautifully manicured park. The overall effect was absolutely breathtaking.

  On the east side I noticed faint movement through the tinted glass and stepped to the window to peer inside. This was a part of his home I had never been in, and I realized it was on the opposite side of what was the massive bottom floor. The space inside was equally huge and easily twenty-five feet from floor to ceiling. Random walls, maybe half the height of the room, were placed haphazardly about, a few of them completely parallel to each other. Padded flooring, ramps, small trampolines, and a series of platforms, hanging bars and rings were situated sporadically throughout the space.

  Shading my eyes, I leaned forward as Damien came into view over the top of a wall. Within seconds he had topped it and, straightening to a standing position, he ran and jumped to a series of shorter walls until once again at he landed at floor level. It was like watching a video game. No wonder he could so easily vault off the couch.

  I watched, amazed and astonished, as he scaled two twelve-foot walls‌—‌set parallel to each other and complete with what looked like glassless windows‌—‌by using his feet to spring between them until he was at the top of the platform above. Before he caught his breath, he swung down on a rope to another platform, and then grabbed onto bars before letting loose, angling his body headfirst and launching through the air like a flying squirrel. My heart was in my mouth, and I gasped as he quickly plummeted to the ground.

  He hit the floor…‌and it gave so much that he disappeared. Relief poured over me as I realized he had dived into a foam pit. He climbed over the foam shapes toward the edge, and I let out a long breath. Gathering myself together, I lowered my hands from my face and knocked timidly on the window. He turned his head sharply at the knock, a surprised look settling over his face.

  You’re surprised, Damien? I just thought you’d plunged to your death!

  He must have registered my rattled expression because he smiled apologetically and jogged over to the door to let me in.

  “Taking a rooftop stroll?” His eyes were mischievous.

  “Looking for you,” I remarked testily. He wore a white tank and loose black sweats and a type of shoe similar to my Mad Rocks. Sweat dripped down his jaw, and he lifted his shirt and wiped his face, baring his delectable abs.

  He cleared his throat and looked up. “My eyes are up here,” he teased.

  I gave him a half-smile. I had been sneaking a lot of cookies lately. “Mmm hmm. I see that.”

  “I have ten minutes left. You can watch if you like.” He raised a brow as if to say, You can watch but you can’t touch.

  “I can do that,” I breathed, and cinching my towel tighter, I leaned back against the towering window/wall. Damien leaned down and nuzzled my neck, then backed away shaking his head with a rueful expression. Turning on his heel, he ran full steam toward a set of four padded tables. Without breaking his rhythm, he vaulted over each in succession. His movements were clean and effortless, with no wasted motion.

  Turning to his left, he swung through a network of bars similar to a school yard jungle gym before launching himself high in the air off a spring floor and grabbing onto a moving bar that looked like a trapeze. He maneuvered the bar, like a gymnast would, until he was swinging so high my hands once again flew to my mouth.

  He let go and sailed through the air, again headfirst like Superman, but this time I knew the foam pit would save him. Even so, I couldn’t help but hold my breath until he landed softly and gracefully in the foam.

  I walked over to the edge as he struggled to free himself by rolling on the top of the foam pieces.

  “I can’t believe you have a parkour course in your house.”

  “A man needs his pursuits. And I tend to scare people when I run through Forest Park jumping over rocks and swinging from trees.”

  I laughed. “You should dress up in a gorilla suit and do that. They’d think you’ve escaped from the zoo.”

  “A gorilla, huh?” He looked sternly at me, and my laughter evaporated. Suddenly, he grimaced and grabbed his back.

/>   “Damien,” I gasped, sinking down to my knees. His hand shot out, and in a flash he grabbed me and hauled me down so that I fell clumsily into the soft foam. I shrieked as my towel came loose, much to his amusement.

  “Now where’s my camera?” he drawled against my throat. “Will you promise to be a good girl and not move until I can find it?”

  “No, I will not!”

  He threw his head back and laughed. I could only imagine the sight of the two of us. At least Damien had clothes on. I, on the other hand, was as naked as the day I was born. My arms and legs flew about in all directions as I fought against the foam. Thank God he lived alone. If anyone could have seen me like this, I would have died of embarrassment.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny,” I spouted, trying in vain to move closer to the edge so I could raise myself out of this viper pit.

  “Hold still, you’re making it worse,” he said, chuckling although I could tell he was trying not to.

  “This stuff is like quicksand,” I said.

  “First, the most incredible wake-up I’ve ever gotten, courtesy of my exquisitely sexy and beautiful girlfriend, and now this. Olivia, naked and rolling around in my foam pit. I must have died and gone to heaven,” he mused, still holding back laughter.

  Gritting my teeth, I choked back a handful of smart retorts. He hoisted me by my bare torso toward the edge and I swung my leg up, very unladylike, and pulled myself out. I was sure he was getting an eyeful, and sure enough, once I stood and gave him a steely squint, it was apparent he was enjoying himself immensely at my expense.

  “Towel, please,” I grated out, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Olivia, are you mad at me?” He regarded me bemusedly, residual traces of humor drying up as I returned his stare.

  I held out a single arm, palm up, my brow arching in warning. He narrowed his eyes before tossing me the towel, and I wasted no time in wrapping it around me. I turned on my heel and headed toward what I hoped was the door to the rest of the apartment.

  “Olivia?”

  Slamming the door behind me, I followed the path of the hallway, passing another bathroom and a large storage area before emerging next to the kitchen from a doorway I hadn’t noticed before.

  My need for coffee evaporated, I flounced up the stairs, noticing with alarm the time and mentally calculating I had about twenty minutes to get ready. I didn’t know where my Jeep was, or for that matter, my keys. Should I call Paul to take me to work, or leave that to Mr. Funny? No, I should definitely call him.

  I heard Damien following me some distance behind as I placed the call, and taking the phone in the bathroom, I locked the door behind me. Paul answered on the first ring.

  “Yes, Miss St. Clair. How can I help you?”

  “Paul, I’ll need a ride to work. Can you take me in twenty minutes?”

  “It would be my pleasure. I will meet you out front, Miss St. Clair.”

  “Perfect. Thanks, Paul.” I hung up and then was faced with the dilemma of having no clothes to wear. My bag was in Damien’s room. As I considered my options, I used my time wisely by quickly blow-drying my hair and tying it back in a ponytail, and attending to my other toiletry needs.

  Finally, I opened the door. Damien stood on the far side of his bedroom, leaning against the doorjamb with his muscular arms crossed. I stared at him, noticing how his tank stuck to his sweaty body and revealed the hard ridges of his shoulders, chest and stomach. Straightening up, he walked purposefully toward me, a smirk tugging at his lips. But it was his eyes I was now riveted to: assessing, dark and hungry.

  I licked my lips, trying to calm my racing heart as he covered the distance between us in several long strides. My clothes. I needed my clothes.

  He came to a stop before me, close enough that I could feel his body heat and smell his hot male scent. Reflexively, I breathed him in. He reached out to touch my cheek, stroking me with his long finger.

  “Please don’t be mad.” He gazed at me impassively with those liquid eyes, and I was reminded at once of his trust in me, how he had let me into his life, how he tried so hard to protect me. Me. What had I done for him except cop an attitude and give him grief?

  “I need you in my life, Olivia. Please forgive me when I screw up. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

  The words stuck in my throat. Was I angry? Humiliated, perhaps. But angry?

  “I was wrong to tease you, but I only meant to make you laugh. When you didn’t, I should have stopped. I’m sorry.”

  I swallowed and took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”

  He snorted softly. “You didn’t overreact. I just took my little joke too far. It was my fault. I…‌I’m new to this sort of thing. Doesn’t excuse my behavior, though.”

  “What thing?” I whispered.

  He shrugged sheepishly. “You know. Us.”

  “You mean, a relationship?”

  He nodded. “I’m out of practice.”

  “You’re doing fine. It’s me who can’t let go of the past.” I frowned, my senses prickling. Was this where he gave me the brush-off?

  He chewed the inside of his lip and gazed at me thoughtfully. “Promise me what I’m about to tell you won’t make you hate me.”

  I held my breath as a chill pervaded me from the inside out. Somehow I found my voice even as I set my heels in a hopeless attempt to stop time. “Why would I hate you?”

  He smiled wistfully. “I wouldn’t blame you if you do,” was all he said.

  I was going to be late for work. I knew this, and further, my first client was Angelique Pritchard-Price. Weldon was going to kill me. I took his hand, holding it between both of mine. It was warm and slightly calloused.

  “You’re scaring me, Damien.”

  He parted his lips as if to speak, then frowned and clamped them shut.

  “The beginning is always a good place to start,” I whispered meekly. Oh please, don’t tell me something I can’t handle.

  He cleared his throat and gave me that Mona Lisa smile. And then he began.

  “During college, I came up with the idea for Weaver. To make it a reality, I needed money. Lots of money. So I did what I had to do to get it.” He exhaled heavily. “I fucked women. For money.”

  My brain was on overload. I stared unseeing at him as my synapses fired rapidly, attempting to reboot.

  He studied me with wary eyes, then continued. “I had been introduced to an older woman who made it no secret of her interest. She made me an offer. Being desperate, I saw an opportunity and I accepted. She told her friends and one thing led to another. Before long, I had amassed a client list of wealthy and lonely socialites who paid me handsomely for my services. Some of them just wanted me to accompany them to functions. Some of them wanted…‌other things. It was all very discreet, and I quit as soon as Weaver started turning a profit.”

  He frowned suddenly. “What time do you need to be at work?”

  “Fuck work,” I croaked, shaking my head and releasing his hand. “How long?”

  His eyes widen as his hand fell to his side. “Two years.”

  “You fucked horny old ladies for money for two years. Is that what you’re saying?” I felt nauseated.

  He nodded and regarded me warily. I took several deep breaths, letting the ramifications of his bombshell settle. He said nothing, but his eyes reflected an anguish I had never seen on him.

  “Do you regret it?” I asked.

  “I regret having to tell you. I regret hurting you, seeing how this affects you. But no, I don’t regret what I did. Like I said, I did what I had to do. If there had been another way, I would have done it. But there wasn’t.” He lifted his palms as if to say It is what it is.

  “So.” My heart was racing, but I felt strangely calm. “Full disclosure?”

  A wan smile crossed his lips. “I’m trying.” He cupped my face in his hands. “When I’m with you, I find myself wanting to tell you al
l my secrets. You’ve trusted me enough to share the darkest chapter of your life. Do you know how honored that makes me feel? I want to be worthy of your trust.”

  My hands came up to clasp his forearms. “I do trust you, Damien. And I want to know everything there is to know. Even the bad stuff. It’s who we are, it’s what makes us the people we’ve become. We can’t hide it away in a drawer.”

  Resting his forehead against mine, he rhythmically stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. “I’ve never had someone like you in my life. I’m so used to keeping myself locked up and private.”

  “You’ve been in relationships, Damien. What about Bella?”

  “That was ten years ago. There’s been no one since.”

  I faltered. “When you say no one…”

  “I mean no one. Period.” He tensed and exhaled. “I’ve been an eight-year celibate, Olivia.”

  I pulled away and looked at him. Part of me wondered why he was telling me such a blatant lie, but I saw such determination and fear in the look he gave me that I knew without a doubt he was telling me the truth.

  “You’re serious? Why?”

  He grasped my hands, pulling me closer. “Many reasons. Some of them you can probably guess.” He shrugged and smiled wryly. “After two years of that I wasn’t interested in any type of physical relationship for a long time. And growing STG kept me insanely busy. But the fact of the matter is, I didn’t give a shit about sharing my life with anyone. Until I met you.”

  A single tear rolled down my cheek.

  “Please be patient with me, Olivia. I feel such a joy having you here that sometimes I say things that are inappropriate. I’m not used to sharing my feelings with someone, but I know I’ll get better at it. I already have the best teacher. There’s no way I can fail.”

  He let go of my hands, and I walked into his arms, my thoughts consumed by images of Damien, alone in his big castle on a cloud, every modern convenience at his fingertips, his vast number of employees at his beck and call. And with no one to confide in. No one to love.