Damian (2 page)

Halfway up the first flight of stairs, I heard two people coming up the stairs from behind me.

Shit, I’m blocking their way
, I thought as I realized how unbelievably awkward and stupid I must look with two large suitcases and an overfilled tote balanced between my two hands.

“Ooo. Emm. Gee. She’s, like, going to take forever,” I heard a girl whisper to the person she was with, deliberately loud enough for me to hear.

Fucking bitch
, I thought. I knew instantly that I would hate her.

I stopped and tried to turn towards them as best as I could as my suitcases and tote weighed down on my hands and arm.

“Ooo. Emm. Gee. Like, thanks so much for your patience,” I said sarcastically, mimicking her Valley Girl accent.

To my surprise, I heard the other person—a guy—snicker.

“Hey!” the girl scorned at the guy. Then I heard a slap, which I assumed was her hitting him against the chest.

“What? That was funny,” the guy said with a chuckle. He seemed completely undisturbed that the girl was upset.

I smiled to myself. There was something in the smoothness of his rich, deep voice that drew me in. I tried to move the suitcase that blocked my view of him so that I could see his face. But the only thing I could see was an intricate arm-length tattoo down the guy’s left arm.

He’s one of those guys
, I thought to myself somewhat judgmentally as I automatically painted a picture in my head of what kind of guy he would be: a cocky guy who was nothing but trouble.

Now my curiosity had gotten the best of me.
What did he look like?
I wondered.

I cranked my head farther downward toward where he stood on the staircase, trying my best to be subtle.

Suddenly, I knew it was about to happen before it did. The strap to my tote began to give way to the amount of items I had stuffed in it. I watched in horror as several items from my tote, including a large, green Nalgene water bottle, fell out of my tote and down toward them.

“Ouch! What the fuck?” exclaimed the girl as the half-full Nalgene bottle hit her shin.

“Oops, sorry about that,” I said, trying to sound sincere. I felt bad for her, but a part of me instantly thought,
that’s karma.

“Yeah right,” the girl huffed. Clearly, we were on the same page about how we felt towards one another.

“Here, let me help you,” offered the guy. I heard the girl give an exasperated sigh as the guy moved up the staircase.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I insisted, a part of me still determined to keep this move-in experience all to myself.

But then, as one of my suitcases lifted out of my sore hand, I immediately felt relieved for the help.

As he lowered the suitcase down to where he stood on the stairs, I drew in a sharp intake of breath as I saw him for the first time.

He’s fucking gorgeous.

He was an image of perfection, the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life—in real life or on any glossy magazine. Everything about this man oozed sex. Not the missionary crap, but the dirty, earth-shattering type of sex that left you a completely different person afterwards. In fact, I was pretty sure that if I were to look up “sex” in the dictionary, a picture of him would be there—his hard, chiseled body, that arm-length tattoo that ran down his arm, those piercing blue eyes that had sent my heart to my throat when our eyes met.

My heart skipped a beat and I forced myself to blink, unable to hold his gaze any longer. I immediately felt self-conscious.
Ugh. I look like shit
, I thought. I knew I probably still had some sweat on my face from heaving up the suitcases up these steps.

I should have listened to my best friend, Deb. She said to always look your best when traveling because you never knew who you’d bump into—at the airport or once you’ve reached your destination. I had brushed off Deb’s advice. This was my first time traveling on a plane—I hadn’t been lying when I said I’d lived in Cedar Rapids all my life—and six hours of flying, with a layover in O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, made me extremely nervous.

So comfort was the only thing I had in mind today—well, comfort and not dying, that was. So naturally, the one time I’d decided to not listen to Deb’s advice I happened to bump into the most gorgeous man alive. Typical. Here I was, a Midwest girl with mousy brown hair in a University of Iowa sweatshirt and baggy jeans, lugging two suitcases that were each larger than my body up these stairs. What made matters worse was that there was a large, faded yellow mustard stain on the sweatshirt, smacked right in the middle of my chest. I knew I should have gotten rid of the sweatshirt after failing to clean out the stain, but I just couldn’t seem to part with it. As odd as it may have been, I found comfort in that sweatshirt. It was worn down and loose at just the right spots. And a lot of great college memories involved that sweatshirt. So for me, it was like a grown-up version of a security blanket. It was comforting and I loved wearing it.

But at that very moment, I wished I would have worn
anything
else but that sweatshirt. I winced in embarrassment as I caught the guy’s piercing blue eyes dart to my right breast, where the large mustard stain resided, and I felt my face grow hot.

The guy gave me a smile, and for that brief moment, I was paralyzed by that smile. For that brief moment, I was unable to move, think, or even tell you what my name was.

“You should be more careful,” he said as he eyed me with amusement.

“Sorry.” I gave him an apologetic smile and hoped he didn’t think I was some idiot. “My bag just broke.”

“Perfect timing,” he said, and for some reason, I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “Oh, and you dropped a few things,” he said with a devious smirk on his face.

I pulled my gaze from his deep blue, mesmerizing eyes and looked down towards his hands. I cringed in horror at what I saw.

Along with the Nalgene bottle that hit the girl’s shin, a strip of Trojan Magnum Ecstasy condoms and a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs must have also fallen out of my tote because there they were, in the hands of this gorgeous man. My face grew hotter as he handed them to me. I thought I saw a twinkle in his eyes as he looked up at me.

“Oh—” I began, unable to think, let alone speak.

I grabbed the condoms and handcuffs and stuffed them back into my tote.

“Umm …” I tried to think through the haze of mortification that was clouding my thoughts. “Those aren’t mine.”

“Right,” the guy said as he dragged out the word and nodded. He was unconvinced.

“I mean, they are, but…” I tried to explain, “but they were a gag gift from a friend.” I made a mental note to kill Deb when I saw her again. We had gone out the previous night to celebrate my last night in Cedar Rapids, and she had gave me a goodbye care package and said that they were essential items for my new life in San Francisco. It was a gag gift filled with an assortment of condoms and sex toys. We had a good laugh and I had thrown the items into my tote last night. I had completely forgotten that they were sitting in the bottom of my tote when I woke up this morning. I had completely forgotten all about them until
now
—until they were in the hands of this gorgeous man as he looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. He looked at me in a way that gave me goose bumps and studied me as if I were a question he couldn’t answer.             

“Nice friend.” He gave me another full-voltage smile that made it hard to breathe. “You can never be too careful.” He winked at me, and as much as I tried to fight it, I couldn’t help but get sucked into his cocky charm and smiled back at him.

“Hey, I’m hungry,” the blonde pouted, her voice filled with an air of impatience. It wasn’t until then that I saw her for the first time.

Damn! Of course she’s gorgeous.
Blond with silky hair that was perfectly curled. Her skin was flawless and seemed to glow even in the dimly lit stairwell. She was classically beautiful, and I felt a surge a jealousy ripple through me. It was no wonder that this guy was with this girl. They were both ridiculously gorgeous, and together, they became an even more ridiculously gorgeous couple.

“Can we please go already?” the girl whined as she shot me a look of annoyance, as if I were a disgusting bug under her Christian Louboutin stilettos.

The guy laughed and turned to the girl. “Didn’t you just say you’re on some sort of cleanse diet and you can’t eat for a week?” he seemed to challenge.

The girl paused, momentarily speechless. “Th—that’s not what I meant. Can we just go already?” She crossed her arms impatiently. I thought I saw a flush in her cheeks.
Could this stunning blonde really be blushing with embarrassment? Or is it anger towards me?
I wondered.

“Let me first help her with her stuff,” the guy responded without taking his eyes away from me.

God, those eyes
, I swooned inside.

The girl was about to protest but stopped before she said anything. Instead, she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Besides,” the guy continued and turned to look at the girl, “what’s the rush? I thought we’re going up for a quickie? I’ll be quick this time.”

I gasped uncontrollably, utterly surprised by his words. The guy shot me a quick look and chuckled while the girl smiled victoriously. “We are,” she said as she looked at me and then ran her hand along the back of the guy’s neck.

The guy eyed me with amusement, his lips twisted into a smirk. “She obviously sees you as a threat.”

My mouth fell open, shocked by both his boldness and what he had just said to me in front of the girl. Apparently the blonde was just as shocked as I was because when I looked over at her, she was gaping at him, wide-eyed, in silence.

Me? A threat?
How could I ever be a threat to this beautiful blonde?

“So where to?” He lifted the suitcase in his hand and looked at me.
Does he not noticed our shocked expressions or does he not care?

This girl was a bitch, no question about that. But as I surveyed her dumbfounded expression, I was pretty sure that she had never had any guy say anything remotely negative about her before.

Until now
, I thought with amusement while I looked at this guy with a new set of eyes as he moved my suitcases to the front of my door.

Who is this guy?

CHAPTER TWO

Damian

“WHAT’S MY NAME?” I GROANED into her ear as I pounded my cock into her with such force it made her full, perky breasts bounce violently against my chest each time I entered her.

“Damian!” she screamed out between her gasps and moans, her nails digging into my back as she grabbed on to me for dear life.

“Say it again,” I demanded. I always loved the sound of my name coming out of the lips of a woman right before I made her come like she’d never come before.

“Fuck! Damian! Damian Castillo!” she cried as she arched her back in pleasure and ran her nails down my back.

“Grab my ass!” I ordered. “I want you to pull me into you. Hard! I want you to feel every last inch of me.”

She obeyed and grabbed both of my ass cheeks with her hands. I felt her clench and tighten herself around my erection as she lifted her hips and pulled me deeper inside of her to receive the entire length of my shaft. My head jerked uncontrollably as pleasure shot through me with each urgent thrust into her silky sweetness.

“I’m so close,” she gasped as her nails dug painfully into my ass cheeks.

Without giving her any warning, I quickly pulled out of her. “Let me fuck you from behind,” I demanded as I flipped her around so that she faced the pillow. I began pounding my rock-hard erection into her warmth, pushing out a series of gasps from her lips.

“Ooh ooh ooh! My! God!” she yelled out, one word at a time, in synchronization with my thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so deep!” Her cries were muffled into the pillow.

“Who’s your God?” I roared.

“You!” she wailed in a state of frenzy.

In response, I rammed into her harder, deeper, and faster. I felt her wet sweetness clench me as her hands grasped my rich, blue satin bed sheets tightly.

“Damian, I’m coming. Holy fuck, I’m coming!” she cried. Within seconds, she began to quiver under me as I felt her tighten and spasm around my erection, and I continued to plunge her farther down into the abyss of her orgasm.

Finally, she relaxed her grip around me and became still.

“Shit, that was unbelievable,” she said breathlessly when she was finally able to speak.

“I’ll bet.” I smirked.

“No, I’m serious,” She had assumed that my comment was made sarcastically. “I’ve never come that hard or that long before. That was fucking amazing.” There was a satisfied, glazed-over look in her eyes that I knew well.

As she turned her body to face me directly, I stopped her. My hard, throbbing cock was still inside her, still needing its release.

“We’re not done,” I groaned as I felt the blood coursing through my erection. “It’s my turn, baby. You haven’t satisfied me yet.”

“Mmm,” she purred, “I’m all yours.” She arched her ass up towards me as she laid her face back onto the pillow, taking me deeper inside her.

“You better be,” I said with a renewed sense of purpose. Now that I’d taken care of her, my only thought now was to take care of myself so I could go back to work. I had shit to do and this was supposed to be a quickie.

As much as I loved casual sex with a hot girl, I was not one to spend an entire afternoon with a girl without busting at least a few loads. But for some reason, things were off-balance today. We had been fucking for almost an hour now and she had gotten off twice while I hadn’t even unloaded once. What the fuck was going on? I’d never fucked a girl and not gotten off. I sure the hell was not going to start now.

Frustrated that things were going nowhere, I wet my thumb and circled the rim of her asshole with it, testing her receptiveness.

She moaned and turned her head to look up at me. “I meant it when I said I’m all yours,” she flirted.