Breaking His Rules (8 page)

Damon leaned back and clasped my face with both hands, tipping my head up to gaze into his worried eyes. “Better?”

I nodded and attempted a smile. It was tremulous at best.

“That’s better.” He grinned and leaned down, grazing my lips. The feathery light caress of his mouth sent exquisite sensations rippling through me. His tongue teased my lips open and explored tentatively, licking and twirling around mine.

He was gentle and caring. I was having none of that. Winding my fingers through his hair, I pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, wanting to feel the full force of his thrusting tongue, wanting to lose myself in the moment and forget about everything else.

Damon came along for the ride and I soon found myself panting in the wake of his warm, wet lips sucking and caressing my neck. I wanted more. So much more. I wanted him to take me to that place where nothing else mattered but the explosion of sensations overwhelming my very existence. My body trembled as he drew a path along the hollow of my throat while he pinched the hard buds of my nipples through the thin material of my dress, rolling them between his finger and thumb until they ached to be sucked into his mouth. I squirmed against him, trying to get closer. His lips nibbled and caressed their way back up to my cheeks and then to my mouth. He moaned as he cupped my ass and pulled me firmly against his hard shaft.

“Christ, Samantha.” He growled, pulling away and staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean to devour you like that…especially not after…” He bowed his head and sighed. “We need to stop before I rip off your panties and take you against the wall.”

“I’m all right with that.” I purred, grinding my pelvis against him. My body was still revved up and racing toward the finish line. It wouldn’t take long. A few powerful thrusts and I’d find the release I was jonesing for.

“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. “Not here. Not when Gio—”

I covered his mouth with my palm, halting his words in mid-syllable. “You’re right. We need to stop.” Being caught in a compromising position would not go over well. I looked around in a daze, trying to bring my raging hormones to heel. A table for six stood in the middle of the room. “Where are we?”

“One of the private dining rooms.” His thumb worked back and forth over my cheek and he sighed, as if coming to a decision. “Do you want to talk about what happened out there?”

I focused my gaze over his shoulder, zeroing in on a vase of red roses that adorned the center of the table. “Not really.”

“I thought you were just a bartender from Chicago,” he murmured.

I rested my forehead against his chest. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about it.”

“Giovanni De Carlo is not a man to trifle with. He’s the heir to one of the largest liquor distribution companies in the world.” Damon’s words were gentle but adamant. His hands rubbed up and down my arms in an absent rhythm as if to soothe me.

A flutter of nervous energy roiled in my stomach. He didn’t need to warn me. I was well versed in that truth. My gaze lifted to his. “Believe me, I know. I moved here to get away from him. Why is this happening to me? I haven’t seen him in over a year. He had let me go. But the way he acted…”

Damon kept up the rhythmic caressing on my arms but held his tongue.

I closed my eyes and slumped against the wall. Giovanni
had
let me go. Would that change after tonight? He was a controlling man and seeing my reaction to Damon had pissed him off. Of that, I was certain. I didn’t know what he would do. What I did know, was that after everything I’d accomplished in the past year, I didn’t want to pick up and move again. Chicago was beginning to feel like home.

“Samantha?” Damon crooked a finger under my chin and tugged my gaze toward him.

“What?”

His guarded eyes searched mine. “Are you scared?”

“Yes,” I whispered. It was the absolute truth. “I don’t know what he’ll do. But I know his actions aren’t always honorable. You invited him to Midnight Blue. I’m going to be forced to see him again.”

“Don’t be scared.” His voice was strong and sure as he gave me a reassuring squeeze. “I can’t rescind the invitation, but I won’t let him hurt you.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, considering his vow. The determination in his eyes told me he meant every word he said. But I knew it might not be enough. “He’s a powerful man.”

Damon suddenly smiled as he caressed the back of my neck. “So am I.”

That was what worried me. I felt a little breathless as his eyes locked with mine. Was I exchanging one nightmare for another? My instincts told me no, but I’d been fooled once before. “Then who will protect me from you?”

He chuckled and held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I really like you, Samantha Rayne.” He brushed his lips against mine and then stepped back a pace, taking his jacket with him. “You don’t need protection from me. I only want what you’re willing to give. Let’s get back before Giovanni loses his patience and comes searching for you.”

Rule Number Eight

B
lack satin panties
are my favorite.
Damon’s hoarsely spoken words sprang to mind as I fingered through the lingerie in my top drawer. It was Thursday evening and I had twenty minutes to decide what I was going to wear. Definitely not the black satin. Variety was the spice of life and I was in a red mood. Oh, yes. Red lace cheekinis. I slipped the underwear on and checked my ass in the mirror. This was it—full butt cheeks peeking out of the high cut backside. If my boss didn’t find these pleasing, then he could go to hell.

I had just finished pulling on my gray Jimmy Choo over-the-knee boots when the buzzer to my apartment rang. Glancing at my smartphone, I cursed. He was ten minutes early. So much for meeting him down in the lobby.

After a quick glance in the mirror to slip my cashmere sweater off the shoulders, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. There was no way I was giving Damon Baxter a tour of my living space, not after the humbling reaction of my brother. I opened the door and almost walked headlong into a massive bouquet of flowers.

“Whoa,” I said, taking a step back into my apartment.

A woman lowered the flowers and smiled. “Delivery for Samantha Rayne.”

Say what?
Mason had only been gone for two hours. It was right up his alley to do something so sweet. He must’ve arranged for the delivery before his plane departed. Ushering the woman into my apartment, I directed her to set the vase on my coffee table while I fished a few dollars out of my purse for a tip. The bouquet was gorgeous and included all of my favorite flowers. I ripped open the accompanying card as I escorted the delivery woman back to the door, then closed it with my butt as I read the note.

Dolcezza -

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady. Give me another chance. Dinner tonight at eight o’clock. I’ll be waiting at the curb.

-G

My throat was suddenly closing up, his note like a noose around my neck. Would he hound me from every angle—last night while at Midnight Blue and now in my apartment? How did he know where I lived? Only Giovanni would take my smart-ass response last night to his insulting comment as an invitation to rekindle our romance and not as the set-down it was intended to be. I closed my eyes in an attempt to push his words out of my memory, but they rang out loud and clear in my head.

“You belong with me, Samantha. Was my proposal really so distasteful?” Giovanni twirled the liquid in his glass as the corner of his mouth curled up. Leaning into the bar, he captured my full attention. “You spread your legs readily enough for strangers. Why not my business partners?”

His observation had punched me in the gut. But I held it together after chanting rule number eight in my head—leave your baggage at home. While at Midnight Blue you will smile and interact pleasantly with all customers, at all times. No exceptions.

Who would’ve ever thought I’d take solace in Midnight Blue’s list of rules? My shoulders had bounced with suppressed laughter, and a weight lifted off my shoulders. The asshole in front of me was only a customer, and I’d dealt with plenty of his kind over the years. So the smile I gave Giovanni before my retort was genuine.

“Freedom of choice,” I said and continued pouring glasses of champagne. “Last time I checked, prostitution is still against the law.”

Giovanni’s laugh was deep and long, drawing the curious stares of nearby guests. “I’ve always loved your quick wit, Samantha.” Warmth filled his eyes and he smiled wistfully. “Truly, I miss it. And you.”

I had glanced up afterward and was pinned to the spot by Damon’s intense stare as he tipped his drink up and swallowed. Mason stood by his side, talking his ear off about only God knew what. Was Damon scolding me for entertaining his guest? Well, fuck it. He was the one who put me in the awkward position with Giovanni by refusing to let me work the first floor of the club.

But I had a feeling I knew why he wanted me in The Lounge, and it tugged on the muscle aching in the middle of my chest. Damon wanted me close to him. Though he kept his distance, he rarely shifted his stance away from me—always preferring to keep me in his line of sight. My eyes raked up and down his body then, telling him everything he needed to know about what I was thinking, and he rewarded me with a smirk.

A knock on the door startled me and I opened it without thinking. Damon let out a long, slow whistle as his eyes swept the length of my body. “You’re stunning.”

Stunned was more like it. Damon in a suit was good-looking, but in dark-wash jeans and a black button-down shirt he was sex on a stick. And I wanted to lick him up, inch by slow inch. Before I could even smile in response, Brandy squeezed between my legs and I reacted on instinct, reaching for her as she bolted out the door.

“Brandy!” I shouted.

Damon snagged her by the cuff of her neck, quick as lightning, and pulled her into his arms. “Gotcha.”

To my surprise, Brandy let him cradle her in his embrace. She didn’t usually warm up to strangers. He stared down at her with a boyish grin and wiggled a finger behind her ear. Her little nose nudged at the collar of his shirt and she purred.

I shook my head. “Do all ladies fall under your spell so easily?”

He glanced up with a wry smile. “Not all. I recall one fine lady, in particular, who resisted my charms—at first.”

“Well this lady needs to get back into the apartment so we can get out of here,” I said, holding out my hands for the cat.

“Let me handle it.” Damon winked and pushed by me into my apartment.

I groaned and followed him in, shutting the door securely before tossing the card I still held next to the flowers on the coffee table.

“Giovanni send those?” he asked as he strolled around the small space, still stroking Brandy’s ears and taking in his surroundings.

My gaze flashed to the flowers and then Damon. I folded my arms. “Why would you think that?”

“He made his intentions with regards to you quite clear to me last night at Midnight Blue.”

“Oh, really?” I lifted a questioning eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Giovanni demanded I back the fuck off.”

Why didn’t that surprise me? I gazed at Damon with more than a little curiosity. “And yet you still came tonight.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.” The situation merited quiet contemplation. I couldn’t help but wonder why Damon would take the trouble. We’d already had our one night stand. “Why bother? He can make your life hell.”

“You underestimate your allure,” Damon said, his eyes dropping to rest on my mouth. “You offered one more night.” He captured my gaze again. “And I have every intention of enjoying it.”

Well, fuck.
I was pretty sure my panties were soaked after his declaration. There wasn’t much hotter than a gorgeous man dreaming about his cock buried in my throat. I had half a mind to kneel before him right then and there to prove I was worth the trouble.

Damon glanced out the window at the courtyard, breaking the intense moment. “It’s nice here. Reminds me of the place I had in college. Does it come with a parking garage?”

Parking garage? Whoa. Back up. He used to live in a studio apartment while attending college?

I nodded in answer to his question and blurted, “You weren’t always rich?”

His eyes narrowed on me. Why had I asked that question? It was stupid. Irrelevant. A bit snobby even. “Sorry,” I said, rubbing my hand at the base of my neck. “That was rude of me.”

He set Brandy on the floor and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “No, I didn’t grow up with money. Does that matter, Samantha?”

The stubborn set of his jaw gave me the impression that my answer mattered. A lot. The air between us thickened with tension. Didn’t he know how sexy he was and that I’d want him no matter where he came from? His eyes bore into mine with such raw intensity, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow vulnerable in that moment. Pressure built in my chest and I struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat. I ached for him to see me as the strong, independent woman I’d become over the last year and not the spoiled, rich brat I had once been.

Splaying my hands out, I gestured to my home. “Does it look like I care about money, Damon?”

He lifted his brow and snatched my expired black card off one of the side tables – the one I kept out in the open as a constant reminder of my desire to become self-sufficient. “Most people who come from money, care about money.”

I’m not even sure he meant for me to hear his words, they were so soft. His gaze followed his finger as it trailed across my name on the face of the credit card, and then he looked up.

“You come from money. I spent time with your brother last night at the club. It was very”—he paused and tilted his head—“enlightening.”

I rolled my eyes. “I bet.”

“Why did you leave it all?” He set the card back on the side table. “Why not go back to your comfortable life in New York? Back to Giovanni’s loving arms.”

A derisive snort ripped out of me and I cupped my hand over my mouth, holding in the string of expletives dancing on the tip of my tongue. My comfortable life in New York? He had no fucking clue, and I wasn’t in the mood to set him straight. “That’s none of your business.”