His Many Demands

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His Many Demands Page 42

by Parker, Ali


  "We never agreed." She clenched her teeth as Matt turned to face her.

  "Hmm?"

  "Nothing." She let out a slow sigh and let go of the rising emotion inside of her. Were all relationships so fucking intense? She couldn't remember dating much, so not having a comparison, she had to assume they were.

  Bethany: I was so tired that I fell asleep with a bowl of soup on my lap on the couch back at my apartment. It was ugly.

  Damon: Ha. That's not good. You need to look at your schedule and see what's going to go. I'm not an option. You're stuck, baby.

  Warmth filled her as tears blurred her vision.

  Bethany: Hurry up and get to Seattle. I need you. I feel like we're being pulled apart before we even start.

  Damon: We're not. We just have a lot going on. It's going to be fine. We just need to figure out how to communicate better. We'll work on it this weekend. Keep Matt in a good frame of mind, and I'll come find you the minute I get into town.

  Bethany: Did you get our room together?

  Damon: Do you have to ask that?

  Bethany: Good. I was getting worried.

  Damon: Well, stop.

  "Everything okay?" Matt turned his head toward her and smiled.

  "I think so. We just have so much shit flying at us, and trying to keep two dominant people from killing each other is hard on a good day." She laid her phone down in the seat beside her and wiped at her eyes. "He wants me to give something up, but everything I'm doing has to stay. It's not that easy."

  "Then maybe you stop working at the firm. Dad is going to support your college goals no matter what. He wouldn't deny you." Matt reached over and squeezed her hand.

  "Maybe. I'll think about it." She turned her hand over and clasped his hand. "So tell me what happens tonight. Are we the only ones with the dealer?"

  "Sounds so nefarious. I love it." Matt's lips lifted in a beautiful smile. Bethany had no doubt at all why Erica was in love with him. He was the complete opposite of Damon and yet still the full-package deal himself.

  "You know we're having dinner with Erica tonight. Damon set it up earlier this week, I think."

  "What? Fuck." Matt released her hand and pressed his hands to his face as he groaned out loud. "Call and tell her we got delayed."

  "You're so ridiculous. She's perfect for you." Bethany forced herself not to laugh at how childish Matt was being.

  "You don't understand. I'm childish and try hard to have fun so I don't have to face the fact that I'm... Never mind. It's TMI." He turned to look out the far window and huffed again.

  "You're what? Afraid of commitment? Worried that she's too much for you? Intimidated by her?"

  "I like strong women, Bethany, but only so I can break them down."

  "What? That doesn't-" She studied his expression understanding all too clearly what he meant. "Oh. In the bedroom? You like to-"

  "Good enough. Thanks. The conversation took a turn for the worst. I'm good when I'm single, but being with someone like Erica will just bring it out of me. I hate it."

  "Why? Women love a strong man." She reached out, but he moved away.

  "Because I wanna be loving, but it's hard. I don't even know why."

  "You objectify them?"

  "A little, yeah. Let's change the subject. I haven't dated since college, and things have honestly been great. I don't plan on starting soon."

  "You're making yourself out to be a monster." Bethany chuckled, but the sound fell flat as Matt waved her off and left her stewing in her thoughts. Whatever was going on with him, she'd have to talk with Damon about it later.

  * * *

  She glanced up from reading a magazine on the bed in the room as the door opened. Damon walked in, looking like he'd been up for three days straight.

  "Hey." He gave her a tight smile and dropped his bag just inside the door before pulling off his suit jacket.

  "Hi, baby." She got up and moved toward him, pulling him down for a long sweet kiss. There was no fire to it, but it was almost a good thing. They were dancing around each other as if they were both waiting for the other to strike, to pull back and deny the other.

  "Your flight go okay?" He kissed her again and ran his hands over her hips to squeeze the top curve of her ass.

  "Yeah. It would have been better with you being with me, but I was still pretty pissy toward you, so maybe not." She smiled and pulled from him, turning and walking toward the bed. "Come lay down with me until we have to go."

  "Sounds like a plan to me." He pulled off his tie and undid his shirt before letting it drop to the ground behind him. "Why were you pissy? You stood me up."

  She opened her arms to him and cradled his head against her chest as he snuggled up beside her and let out a long sigh.

  "You refuse to call or text me. We've had two or three days since getting back from Jamaica where we haven't talked." She kissed the side of his head and groaned as he rolled her onto her back and moved to lay on top of her.

  "You have fingers and a phone too. Why do I have to be the one calling all the time? This is the twenty-first century." He licked his lips and tugged her blouse down as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. The soft lace covering her breasts was little protection against his assault.

  "You wanna be in control here, but nowhere else? Is that what I'm hearing?" She pushed at his shoulders.

  He moved back to his knees and ran his hands up her legs, squeezing softly. "I'm in control everywhere, Beth. If you wanna try and tug it from my tight grip, go for it baby. I'd love to see you own it."

  "Own you?" She reached up and brushed her fingers over his lips as he tugged her shorts down her legs.

  "You already own me; you've just denied yourself the opportunity to flaunt that." He brushed his knuckles over her mouth and licked his lips. "How long do we have?"

  "Forty minutes until we need to meet Matt downstairs." She bit her tongue on his comment about flaunting anything. He'd denied her that opportunity when he left the note about hiding her fucking ring.

  "That's just enough time to lose myself in you." He moved back off the bed and worked his slacks off his hips.

  She sucked in a sharp breath as he climbed back on the bed naked, hard and hungry. He leaned down and bit the edge of her panties before pulling them down her legs with his teeth.

  "Damon. Do we really-"

  "Shhh." He moved back up her body and forced her legs open. "You and I need this more than anything else we might get this weekend."

  "Each other?"

  "Yes, baby. Hold on tight." He pressed his hands beside her head and smiled as he dipped his hips and impaled her.

  A long cry left her as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his narrow hips. "You could have warned me."

  He leaned down and licked at her ear. "I'm gonna fuck you now. That all right?"

  "Yeah," she whispered before giving in to the carnality that lay between the two of them. Passion was fueled by many different emotions, but at the moment it was neediness. Both of them searching for the other and yet missing the mark over and over again.

  "Good. Give yourself over to me and stop thinking. Work me hard from below, Beth. Bring me over the edge, and I'll do the same to you."

  She nodded and cried out his name as he crashed into her and lifted her legs, trapping them against his chest as he brought her to the edge with intense efficiency. His lips pressed tightly to hers as she felt the world explode, and oddly enough, for a moment, nothing mattered.

  Nothing but him.

  Chapter 71

  Damon

  Somehow the sex set him right, cleared his mind and left him feeling far more relaxed than he had when the day started. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and smiled down at her as they walked to the elevator. Matt had texted ten times to see when they were coming. The poor guy was nervous, and Damon couldn't blame him. The tension between his brother and Erica wasn't anything new but had grown significantly over the last two years since Erica came to work
for the firm.

  Between trying to impress a high-class art dealer and Erica, Matt was going to be running circles around himself. Liquor. He needed to get a few drinks into him, and things would be fine.

  "Like my dress?" Bethany wrapped her arm around the back of his waist as they moved into the elevator and turned to face the door.

  "Love it. I'm a little concerned about having to beat the men off of you, but it's worth it." He smiled and licked his lips as his eyes moved over the soft swell of her breasts. She was exquisite, and he hadn't been lying in his conversation with Charles. He was completely convinced that she was the woman for him, he only hoped she was sure of it too.

  She lifted her left hand and smiled as she turned her attention to the large diamond sitting on her finger.

  "There's no need to beat anyone off of me. This right here makes it more than obvious that I belong to you."

  "And you do." He turned and pulled her flush against him before kissing the tip of her nose. "Only wear that when we're not in the office, okay?"

  "I know." Her smile faded a little. "I got the message loud and clear the other day."

  "And you understand why?" He pressed his fingertips under her chin and forced her to look up at him. "My request is not without reason."

  "I know." She moved back and refused to look up at him. "It just stung a little."

  "I didn't mean for it to." He took her hand as the elevator opened and walked out in the large openness of the hotel lobby. "I hired your friend back."

  "My friend?" She moved up beside him and intertwined their fingers.

  "Yeah, the little shit you were using to make me jealous."

  "What? I wasn't... Oh. Philip." She shook her head. "We're just friends. Nothing more."

  "I recall you saying that already. I took your word for it and gave him the job back. I did it for you." It was partially true. The kid hadn't done anything wrong but draw Bethany's attention away. He shouldn't have lost his job in the first place, and after getting the opportunity to step back from the high-emotion of the situation with Bethany and Sadie, Damon had discovered the error of his ways.

  No need to open the door to another possible lawsuit.

  "Somehow I doubt it was all for me, but either way, thank you. He's a good guy and thinks a lot of you."

  Damon ignored her comment, not wanting to dive into just how good of a guy the Aussie was. He had a thing for Beth, and though his grades and drive were impressive, Damon would be keeping an eye on the little shit.

  Matt turned and let out an exhausted sigh as Beth released Damon's hand.

  "Shit. We have thirty minutes before we're supposed to meet Jonathan. Let's go." Matt huffed and walked toward the door, in a dramatic fashion. Damon smiled, unable to help himself. Matt's work would speak for itself. He had nothing to worry about.

  "I thought it was appropriate to be casually late for these things. It speaks of your importance as an artist." Damon shrugged as Beth turned and glared at him over her shoulder. He chuckled and walked out behind the two of them.

  Her dress fit her beautifully, tight on her hips and accentuating her ass in a way that had his stomach tightening again. He could make love to her ten times a day and still want another turn buried deep inside of her.

  Love or Lust?

  Scary enough, there were times he wasn't too sure of the answer. Love seemed like the right answer, but after only three weeks, was it possible? Maybe. Maybe not.

  He got in the back of the black Lexus next to Bethany and dropped his hands in his lap as the driver pulled out of the hotel and headed downtown to the art gallery they were scheduled to be at in ten minutes.

  "Thanks for coming with me. I'm tense as shit." Matt leaned forward and smiled.

  "Liquor. It will help." Damon winked at his brother and turned to watch the lights move across the window. "That or fucking Erica."

  "Damon." Beth popped him in the chest as Matt groaned.

  "What? Just trying to offer a bit of advice."

  "Don't," Beth and Matt muttered in tandem.

  He shrugged and let his thoughts fade into some of the issues they were dealing with at work. It would be nice to spend the evening with Matt, Beth, and Erica, but tomorrow, he was back to being on point with his time and attention. There was very little room for pleasure in his life, and what he did get, he didn't want to waste on frivolous adventures.

  Matt was so different from him, at least in certain ways.

  * * *

  "He's late." Matt turned toward Damon as Bethany walked through the small gallery without them.

  "It's fine. He'll be here shortly. He set this thing up with you and was impressed by your talent. Stop worrying so much." Damon reached out and pulled at the large portfolio pad that rested under his brother's arm. "Let me see this."

  "Yeah, sure." Matt handed it to him and moved to a large glass table in the middle of the room. "Bring it over here, and you can look through each one, just be careful. Some of the textured ones will chip off if you mess with them too much."

  Damon nodded and laid the portfolio pad down before moving slowly through the various scenery paintings, each done with incredible precision. His brother was talented, no doubt.

  "You sure you want what this guy is offering?" Damon glanced over his shoulder as Matt began to pace the floor. He looked so much like their mother it was painful. Blond hair and blue eyes, a California tan and a great smile. No one would ever guess that under his sweet disposition was an aggressive asshole at times. He kept himself hidden away, mostly from himself. It was odd and had to be exhausting.

  "I don't know what I want, to be honest." He shrugged. "I don't want to rule the world with you and dad. I hate numbers and will act like a fucking idiot until I'm old and unable to walk if it means you don't try and strap a monkey suit on me again and stick me in a cream-colored office. Death would be better."

  "All right, drama-king." Damon chuckled and flipped to the next one. The woman looked a lot like Bethany, but it couldn't be her. It was dated at the bottom from three years before. "Wow. She's beautiful. What's her story?"

  Her cheeks were sunken in a little, and dark circles sat under her eyes.

  "That's Beth. It's showing the truth of her struggles." He shrugged and glanced around.

  "How can it be Beth? This was done three years ago." Damon brushed his fingers over the date and couldn't seem to tear his eyes off the echo of pain painted so beautifully into the painting.

  "I just put that date so she wouldn't ask questions. There are some subtle differences between her and the girl in the painting, but it's her." He moved closer and pressed his hands to his hips, studying it beside Damon.

  "And what is the truth of her struggles?" Damon glanced over toward his brother. Beth had shared a little bit, but not nearly enough.

  Have I asked about her past? Shame worked its way up his chest, but he discarded it. Everyone had a fucked up past to some extent. What didn't kill people left them more capable of dealing with the next shit storm. One of the reasons Beth was going to be his woman for the long haul was her willingness to persevere no matter what.

  "Her father left them when she was twelve, I think. He was a drug dealer and walked out one day, taking all of their money and warning them that the dealers he owed money to might show up, but it was on them. She's been so fucking poor since." Matt turned and let out a sigh. "Ask her about her past, Damon. Don't be a prick."

  "Fuck you," Damon mumbled under his breath and turned to the next picture, one of himself.

  "Jonathan's here. Help me sell this. I want this bad." Matt patted his back and walked off, giving the art dealer a warm welcome.

  "What the hell?" Damon whispered as memories rushed across his mind. Sickness swelled in his stomach, and chill bumps broke out across his skin. He pressed his fingers to his lips, remembering the day the picture was taken. It was the day after he caught his mother fucking around on his dad. The worst moments of his life were captured in the pain Matt h
ad painted so perfectly in his eyes.

  "Hey. You okay?" Beth rubbed her hand down his back and pressed her cheek to his shoulder as she stood beside him.

  "Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He snorted and flipped the page. "I'm wondering why Matt felt the need to paint a picture of a photograph from my teenage years. It's a waste of his time and talent."

  "He doesn't think so." Bethany turned, tugging at Damon to do the same. "Hi. You must be Jonathan."

  "I am." The tall, gangly fellow with a disturbing comb-over and a bright red pinstripe suit extended his hand.

  Damon forced himself not to react as he extended his hand. "I'm Damon Bryant. This is my fiancé, Bethany. I'm Matthew's brother."

  "Lovely! I do believe one of the pieces Matt sent in originally was of you." Jonathan glanced over at Matt, who almost looked ill. "Is that right?"

  "Sure is. Let me show you the rest of them." Matt moved up toward the table, and Damon took Beth's hand and moved back as the door opened and Erica walked in. Her long blond hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her bright blue dress reminded Damon of something out of the fifties or sixties. It was ruffled at the bottom and far more feminine than Damon had ever seen her. She was stunning, but nothing compared to the pretty girl holding his hand.

  "Hey, guys. Sorry, I'm late." She gave Beth a quick hug and smiled at Damon before moving toward Matt and introducing herself to Jonathan.

  "Come on. Let's walk around." Damon nodded toward the back of the small studio. "Twenty bucks if you can tell me what the fuck this painting is supposed to be."

  She laughed. "Do I look like I need twenty bucks?"

  He glanced down at her and smirked. "You look like you need a spanking, but I'm thinking that would only lead to me playing around in places that would have us in trouble. You moan too loud to get away with anything in here."

  She smacked his chest as her laughter filled the room around him. He pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, leaning down and kissing her ear.

  "What do you see when you look at it?" He glanced up, not seeing much of anything other than someone getting trigger happy with a paint gun. Art made no fucking sense at all. The price tag showed that the piece was valued at over ten grand, which was completely ridiculous.

 

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