My Love Break (16 page)

His gruffness wouldn’t be mistaken as bedroom talk by a typical woman. It suited me just fine. I jolted to my feet. Cheeks flushed and desire pulsing in my veins, I responded to him against his wishes.

So many memories, so many variations. “Get into the bed. Get on the bed, on your knees. Get on the bed and lay on your belly.”

When would I hear him growl those words in my ear?

It wouldn’t be a bad thing to touch him as I passed, would it? My fingers ached to touch the dark sleeve of his jacket. I knew how hard the muscles beneath my hand would feel.

I’d gripped onto them before as if my life counted on it when he pounded into me relentlessly. I dug my nails into the skin as I came to shuddering climax. I knew those forearms intimately and I ached to know them again.

But I didn’t touch Damian.

Slowly, I climbed into the bed. Ears attuned to the slightest vibrational shift between us, I heard Damian’s breath quicken. I answered in kind.

Heart thudding in my ears and cheeks flushed with their tell-tale lust, I laid back on the bed and looked up at Damian. I was here, vulnerable and hurting with how much I wanted him. My clit ached for his lips and my pussy drenched my panties. Every cell in my body craved his touch.

Damian roughly pulled the covers up to my chin. I didn’t suffer my disappointment for long when I felt his hand caress my cheek for an infinitesimal moment.

“Risa, I have something to tell you. I should’ve said this already.”

“What is it?”

“I know this is not what you expected when you agreed to work for me. I appreciate the patience and dedication you’ve shown during these last few months. You have gone above and beyond what is reasonable. For that I thank you.”

Resisting the impulse to lay my hand over his, I whispered, “You have no reason to thank me. I would do it again, Sir.”

His hooded gaze swept across my face. I couldn’t tell if my reply was adored or had just became a burden.

Again, which of his contradicting promises would win?

“Just know this won’t last forever. As soon as we’re caught up with this backlog, you’ll be free to go back to your life as before. Just wait it out with me and you’ll be out of here in no more than a month’s time.”

Those were not the words I expected nor did I want to hear them. Fearful of showing my tears, I let out a yawn and closed my eyes.

Damian took that as his intended cue. His touch slipped away from me. “Sleep, Risa. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”

Grief threatened to rip me to shreds. Lying there in the darkness, I prayed I’d make it until he left. I couldn’t imagine not being here with him, but Damian could already see a future without me.

He truly was cruel without intention.

I was insane to stay here like this. The reward for my pride would be exile. The reward for my silence was unknown. Neither were delightful options.

“Risa?”

I coughed and hoped the huskiness in my voice would be excused. “Yes, Sir?”

“You’ll be safe here, Risa. I promise. I won’t break my word to you.”

Damian didn’t wait for me to reply. He simply turned on his heel and walked away, closing the door behind him.

Had he sensed my pain? I didn’t know.

All I knew for sure was that Damian had walked away without once looking back, leaving me alone with my memories and my terrible loneliness.

True to his word, Damian took me shopping a few days after I unceremoniously moved in. He’d had his driver take us after we cut out of work a couple of hours earlier than usual. When the car pulled over, I’d given Damian a quizzical look.

“We talked about this earlier. You need things to furnish your room.”

A silly blush appeared. Even after a few days I recognized just how insanely busy Damian was. His time was a gift greater than money.

“You don’t have to go with me, Mr. Black-Price. I know you’re very busy.”

“Nonsense.”

One word. Typical Damian answer.

We hit the famed 5
th
Avenue as a pair. I’d never been to New York City before and it was everything I imagined it to be. Frenetic, crowded, and yes, it had the famed energy everyone bragged about.

The me of before would’ve hung on his arm and used every excuse to touch him. Considering how he felt about PDA, Damian would’ve tolerated it up to a point. I always strove to push past that point. On some level I liked thumbing my nose at him and I loved the rough attention I got from it.

Besides, I always had to push my boundaries.

Now I was going to be hemmed in by those same boundaries. Polite. Professional. A familiar face but a stranger nonetheless as I walked alongside him.

Damian used our time together to impress upon me his appreciation of my dedication in Switzerland. Apparently, his largesse was mine to plunder. I probably could’ve got a mansion or private island out of the deal if I was that kind of woman.

I didn’t want any of that. I simply wanted to be with him.

We visited Barneys, Saks, and several little boutiques that I couldn’t remember. As I perused the items, ever-conscious of Damian at my side, I expected him to share his opinion.

He didn’t.

I couldn’t deny being disappointed. I never would’ve thought the day would come when I said I was disappointed because my lover didn’t care what color sheets I bought.

Most men wouldn’t care, however, Damian wasn’t most men. He’d always taken a keen interest in the minutia of my life. At least in bed.

This was novel to the history of us. Once we started sleeping together we never really spent much time outside of our apartments. We usually ate and then got naked to indulge in our sexy scenarios.

Now we were going shopping together. I nudged my boundary, and gave Damian one last out.

“Sir, the room is lovely as it is. I really don’t need anything else.”

Damian spared me a brief glance.

“It isn’t up for discussion, Risa. You are not a guest. You are, in essence, living in my home under duress. The very least I can do for you is finance the personalization of your space.”

After that, our conversation regressed to a series of monosyllables until I picked out a luxurious bedding set in silver and another in amethyst. Damian called for his driver and we left the heavy packages in the car.

I thought it would be over and made a move to get in. Damian grabbed me by my arm and looked at me as if I was mad.

“Risa, you need more than a few blankets and sheets. There’s the matter of your work desk, chair, accoutrements, and entertainment.” He considered me further, familiar speculative expression in his arresting gaze. “Unless you’d like those things sent over from your apartment? I can arrange for it immediately.”

No, I did not. Not unless I wanted Damian to know my apartment was almost two thousand miles away.

I smiled and shrugged. “Lead the way, Sir.”

Damian kept his hand on my elbow as we walked into the next store. I kept my body as close to his as polite and did nothing to draw attention to his touch. I reveled in it and had to bite my lip when he finally let go to pick up a beautiful desk clock.

“Does this please you, Risa?”

While the clock was indeed lovely, I appreciated the gesture more. Little by little, we warmed to each other.

Damian touched my back and elbow with ease and I stopped fearing he’d snatch his hand away. Shopping suddenly became a bit more fun. Especially when we found a campaign desk at Saks.

“We need to find you a chair.” Damian took me by the hand. “Here, try this one.”

I sat down. As usual, my feet didn’t touch the ground.

Damian tapped one finger against his chin. “You are a tiny thing, Ms. Kelly. You’ll need a little stool too. However, I don’t think this chair suits you. Up!”

I then spent the next ten minutes going from chair to chair with Damian guiding me to each one with my hand in his. 

It seemed that Damian gave his opinion more readily with each touch. I was happier than I remember being in weeks. Damian not have remembered me yet, but his mannerisms slipped back to familiar territory. He made sure to keep his body between me and the crowd. His stride shorted to meet mine. He tucked me beneath his arm.

This was what I missed.

I bloomed like a flower beneath the spring sun. His control comforted me. I didn’t have to waste time thinking about the inconsequential. Damian’s solid presence guided me from bright colors that didn’t reflect my taste and settled me to a moodier palette.

Once we decided on a proper chair along with a delightful ottoman, Damian declared we needed to stop for dinner. I wasn’t surprised when I found myself seated in a private dining room at an exclusive restaurant.

Tension coiled inside. I was just as nervous as our first date. Would we eat in silence or would Damian be a polite conversationalist? It quickly became apparent it was more of the latter than the former.

“How did you come to find yourself at Bridgewater National?”

Oh thank sweet baby Jesus that Elaine already had me memorize a story that flirted with the truth.

“I transferred in from Austin.”

Thinking about my old job made me think of Julie. It seemed so long ago when she gave me the heads up about the tall hottie in IT that ended up being Damian. I wondered what she thought about my absence. Everyone at work apparently thought I’d been pulled to the parent company to work on a big project.

“Austin. You’re quite a long way from home. How do you like the Big Apple?”

I answered the predictable blah-blah of how exciting the culture was and how much I loved the energy.

Damian’s small smile made me wonder if he found my reply trite or untruthful. He continued to ask me questions, but they quickly steered away from work history to things of a benign nature.

Work was so much easier. There wasn’t time to talk about anything other than the task on hand or the upcoming ones. This would be challenging.

Although as time went on, I found myself relaxing in my chair. Or rather, I stopped worrying about every answer that might trigger an onslaught of questions I wouldn’t be able to answer.

“I couldn’t help but notice you wear a lot of black, Risa. Is it your favorite color?”

It was. That and red.

“Are you reader? I have a library on the second floor you might want to explore. I keep it stocked with the classics, but I can arrange for contemporary pieces to be brought in.”

I didn’t read as much as I used to but I did like reading Anne Rice along with J.R. Ward. Call me a sucker for a vampire or brooding bad boy.

“Have you ever been overseas? Beyond Switzerland.”

No, not until I’d been secreted out of the country and flown to the French countryside to be chained up to a very luxurious bed. I couldn’t dwell on those thoughts or I’d find myself sunk in ennui again.

And so it went.

We were learning each other over again. Sort of. Damian was learning about the sanitized version of me.

My numerous flaws were wiped clean. Damian didn’t know about my fixation on seeming like I was in total control over myself—at least when I wasn’t naked.

I told the truth then, didn’t I?

Things were more honest that way. Damian was a master of knowing things about me I didn’t even know myself. He felt every tremor to his touch with his hand, cock, and tongue.

But I could be someone else now. Someone who bore little resemblance to the woman who tried to walk out of his apartment that faithful night because she thought he stared at her with hatred.

Stupid girl.

Dinner arrived beautifully plated but with modest portions. It was nothing like the meals Damian and I had shared before. Although we were in lovely restaurant, I missed sitting cross-legged on the couch while he fed me bites of simple food.

Jesus, just when I think I have a handle on things…

If Damian noticed the downturn in my mood, he didn’t make mention of it. I was glad for his obliviousness or consideration. I didn’t want to be a miserable, sad sack of a woman tonight.

I needed to be stronger than this. I couldn’t walk around vulnerable to emotional shrapnel just because something triggered my memories.

Damian was here.

He was alive.

He hadn’t turned me out.

I had the power to make a difference in our relationship going forward. I could sit here, sucking back my tears and bad feelings, or I could see this as an opportunity to get to know Damian beyond the way he liked me to squeeze his cock or sit on his face.

Oh hell. Maybe that wasn’t the best imagery to use when getting fired up.

Regardless there was no reason for me to get weepy. Damian had been a perfectly pleasant and polite dinner companion. I’d had to force myself to smile because this wasn’t the kind of dinner I wanted to share with him.

I’d hadn’t wanted Damian polite. I’d wanted him to hold my hand and kiss me silly. I’d wanted to drink hot chocolate while I sat on his lap. I’d wanted to hear him tell me all the things he’d do to me once we got home.

“Care to indulge your sweet tooth?”

“That sounds lovely. What do you suggest?”

Damian perused the dessert menu and decided for me. “Truffles.”

“Truffles it is.”

I really was a greedy girl. Never satisfied with what I had and always reaching for the sun and the moon. Instead, I should’ve seen the fact I was living with him as a consolation prize from fate.

It was up to me to make the best of things. I could do it. I’d always done it before. Somehow I’d forgotten that in the last couple of months. I’d forgotten that there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish once I set my mind to it.

I would survive this. I would thrive. I would make Damian remember me. I would make him proud of my devotion for him. I would prove to him I had value beyond a pretty face and curvy body.

And once he remembered, Damian would look back on these moments and see how strong I was. He’d know without a shadow of a doubt that I was the only woman for him.

I could do this for him. I could suffer it beautifully.