Tiana (Starkis Family #3) (11 page)

“I trusted your brother when he promised me he would take care of my best friend. I know he loves her, that he would never leave her or hurt her.”

For the first time in my adult life, I wanted to be more like my brother, the kind of man Eleni could trust. “But you don’t believe you could meet a man who would love you and protect you that way?”

“No.”

“Why not?” I hated that she’d already decided she wasn’t capable of having the kind of relationship I could tell she secretly longed for. After the childhood she’d had, it was no wonder she wanted a partner she believed she could count on to always be there for her.

“I can’t love someone enough to expect that kind of devotion in return.”

Those may have been the saddest words I’d ever heard. I’d never been a romantic, but I’d always believed in the possibility of finding love someday. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d finally found a woman I could love, but she’d made it painfully clear she could never love me in return.

Eleni

I couldn’t believe I’d opened up to Damon like that. Not even Mia knew the whole story surrounding my mother’s death. How could I have told him? The answer came almost as swiftly as the question: he made me feel safe and protected. He didn’t judge me and had never tried to change me.

Most of the men I’d met and dated had pushed for more. They’d wanted a commitment. They’d wanted to be exclusive. They’d wanted to take me home to meet their families. A few had even been naïve enough to propose, thinking I would change my stance on relationships when presented with a ring.

But Damon was different. Sure, he seemed jealous of the time I spent with Miles, but he didn’t pressure me to stop seeing him. Damon didn’t ask for more than I was willing to give. He seemed content to get to know me better, to spend time with me and allow things to evolve naturally. Of course, I suspected that was because his aversion to commitments rivaled mine. That alone made him the perfect man for me. No fuss, no muss—just hot sex on demand.

“What’s that look about?”

I glanced up to see him carrying in a tray with wine, two glasses, crackers, cheese, and grapes. I’d already stayed longer than I’d intended. A quick glance at the clock told me it was after two, and I should have been getting home to my own bed. But wrapped up in the warmth and safety of his big bed, with the promise of a repeat of the three-peat he’d treated me to earlier, I couldn’t find the will to put my feet on the floor.

“I was just thinking I should get going,” I said.

“No, you shouldn’t.” He set the tray on the nightstand, which was the size of my single chest of drawers.

Everything in his room was huge, from the scale of the room to the walnut gilded four-poster bed, which only occupied a fraction of the space. While my taste was more modern, his skilled interior designer had definitely made his home seem warm and inviting in spite of the size.

“I’m surprised by the traditional décor,” I said, propping my back against the headboard when he handed me a plate containing a stem of grapes, crackers, and a slice of brie. “I would have guessed your style to be more sleek and contemporary.”

“This is the way I grew up,” he said, sitting beside me as he poured wine into each of our glasses. “Formal, traditional furnishings were the way we lived. When it was time to furnish my own place, I wanted to stick with the traditional theme, but I wanted it to be more comfortable, more liveable.” He chuckled. “Wait ‘til you see some of my parents’ places. They’re the very definition of ostentatious.”

I didn’t know that his parents would ever invite me to break bread with them. If they did, I knew it would be because of my relationship with Mia, not Damon. I was certain they expected their son to marry a socialite, someone who traveled in the same circles and understood
their
world. Even though they’d made an exception for Mia, I suspected that was because Deacon hadn’t given them the option.

“I can’t imagine living that way,” I admitted, popping a grape in my mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it would be nice not having to worry about money, but it all just seems… excessive.” My mother’s situation had shaped my opinions about wealth and poverty, and now that I’d shared my story with Damon, I was certain he understood where I was coming from. I saw it in the soft tilt of his lips when his eyes met mine. He got it. He got me. In a way no man ever had, and that was unnerving.

“It is excessive. No one needs
that
much money to be happy. In fact, I’m beginning to question whether money’s more of a curse than a blessing. I’ll admit I didn’t always feel that way. I had a lot of fun partying like a rock star with my rich and spoiled friends, but now that I’m getting older, things are becoming a lot clearer.”

“How so?” I asked before I could stop myself. Our conversation tonight had already been so much more intense than I’d expected, and I didn’t know how much deeper we could go without getting stuck in quicksand.

“I’ll sound like a jerk for saying this, especially after what you shared tonight.”

“It’s okay,” I said, covering his hand with mine. “I don’t judge you because your family is rich, Damon. I know a lot of wealthy people who are warm and loving and generous. So tell me, what were you going to say?” It spoke volumes to me that I actually wanted him to open up. Normally, I tuned men out when they started to talk about their families or their childhoods or plans for the future. But it was different with Damon. I wanted to know more about him.

“I’ve just met a lot of opportunists in my life,” he said, his eyes darkening before he raised his glass to his lips. “Women who are attracted to money the way vampires seek blood. Their intent is always the same—to bleed you dry.”

I was surprised by the resentment lacing his words. I’d always known Damon to be an easygoing guy. Unlike his brother, nothing got to Damon, but apparently I’d struck a nerve.

“You’ve had a lot of women like that in your life?” I asked, drawing my legs up and balancing the plate on my knees. His attitude had piqued my curiosity, and I knew there must be a story there. Given how supportive he’d been when I’d unloaded on him, I figured the least I could do was offer him the same opportunity.

He set down his glass and picked up a stem of grapes. He chewed carefully before he said, “Yeah, I have. I’ve gotten pretty good at sniffing them out, but every once in a while, one slips under the radar.”

I knew all about asking the right questions to field out the undesirables. I always conducted a mini-interrogation before agreeing to a first date. The objective was always the same: make sure we’re on the same page—no commitments, just a good time. But I knew what he meant about the odd one slipping under the radar. No matter how rigorous the screening process, it happened sometimes. I laughed at our similarities. “We’re quite a pair, you know that?”

“How so?” he asked, popping a grape into my open mouth as he smiled.

“You’re trying to field out gold diggers, and I’m trying to field out guys who want more than a good time. That leaves us with very few options.”

“Hmmm.” He took my plate, freeing my arms to wrap around him as his lips skimmed my neck. He slowly lowered the sheet, exposing my breasts. “I guess it’s a good thing we found each other then.”

I heard the warning bells going off inside my head. The way he was looking at me, so predatorily, told me we were crossing some kind of line, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out which one. Was it the casual sex line? The relationship line? The friend line? If I were honest with myself, I’d have admitted he was already more than a friend and had been for a long time. Sex with him could never be casual—he was much too appealing and intense for that. So where did that leave us…? In a relationship?

Before I could start hyperventilating at the prospect of being in an actual grown-up relationship with a man who could turn me inside out with one glance, he was peeling the sheet off, along with my inhibitions.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The way he said it made me believe it. I’d always had to try so hard to live up to some ideal, and being in a competitive industry that prized perfection made it difficult to foster high self-esteem. Whenever I looked in the mirror, I heard all the people who pointed out my flaws. They said I was too curvy, too short, not thin enough, my dimples were distracting, if only my eyes were a different color… the list went on. But when Damon looked at me, he saw me the way I’d always wanted to see myself.

“You make me feel beautiful,” I admitted, hoping he couldn’t hear how much it meant to me that he’d cared enough to peel back my layers. “I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that—” I had to stop myself before I said something we’d both regret.

“How can you not know how gorgeous you are?” he asked as his hand curved over my hip.

“I’m surrounded by beautiful people every day,” I said, fearing the rising lump in my throat would make it difficult to speak without revealing a pain I rarely allowed myself to analyze. “Women who are flawless.”

He scowled as though my words angered him. “You’re every bit as beautiful as they are, Eleni, from the inside out.” His warm hand moved slowly over my skin, leaving a layer of thrill bumps in its wake. “I’ll admit the first time I saw you, I thought you were perfect. Then I got to know you—”

“And realized I wasn’t?” I laughed to let him know I was joking… sort of. But when his hand slipped between my legs, the amusement turned to something else. Something duskier, more primal.

He slid a finger inside me, his hooded gaze never leaving mine. “You began to redefine what perfection means to me.”

I tried to focus, knowing his words were as important as his actions, but I couldn’t. My thoughts were trapped in a swirling sphere of pleasure, hoping it would never end and questioning how much more I could take.

Another finger thrust inside my core as his thumb traced mind-numbing circles. “After the first night, I knew I’d barely scratched the surface with you. Your laugh, your smile, the way you challenged me and weren’t afraid to tease me…”

My eyes snapped open when I sensed him watching me. He seemed mesmerized. My whole body was warm, my cheeks burning, as my hands gripped the sheets and I shamelessly lifted my lower body off the mattress while I rotated my hips, silently begging him to finish me off. But when I was certain he was going to, he slowed his movements, as though he had all the time in the world to pleasure me.

“Oh God, Damon…”

“I’ll never tire of hearing that, your sexy voice whispering my name.” He quickly straddled me, probing my slick entrance, almost as though he were testing me.

Sex without a condom was a no-no in my book, but something about the prospect of feeling Damon inside me, skin to skin, made me question myself. “I’m using birth control,” I said softly. “I’ve never had sex without a condom before, but…”
I trust you
. God, I couldn’t say that.

“Neither have I, but I want to.” His eyes inspected my face, looking for some sign I was hesitant. “It’s your call. You tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel you. Just like this.”

I held my breath as he entered me slowly. It was so much more intense, so much more intimate than I’d expected, mainly because his eyes never left mine. It was a first for both of us, which spoke volumes if we were being honest. It reinforced the fact that we trusted each other, that we’d found something in one another that our other partners had been lacking. That was the scariest admission I’d ever made, even to myself, because I couldn’t go on denying how much Damon meant to me after this experience.

His thrusts were gentle, unhurried, his kisses immobilizing. That was when it hit me—he was making love to me. My heart hammered the same way it had when he’d taken me to the precipice a few moments ago, but this was different. Staring over the edge of this cliff, I felt a bone-chilling fear. This marked the end of my life as I’d known it, the end of an era when I’d been able to protect myself from heartbreak by refusing to let anyone in.

He kissed my neck, lingering on all the places that made me squirm as I clenched him deeper, never wanting to let go. My hands caressed his broad back as tears sprang to my eyes. Squeezing my eyes shut and praying that would be enough to keep the waterworks at bay, I surrendered to the experience, letting this incredible man love me as I pretended, for the first time, that I actually belonged to someone. I imagined that I’d finally found someone who would love me, take care of, protect me, and never give me reason to distrust me.

***

I knew Damon would be angry that I’d snuck off like a thief in the night while he was sleeping, but I’d never expected him to show up at my apartment at eight in the morning, banging on the door loudly enough to wake my neighbors.

“What the hell?” I demanded, tightening the sash on my short black silk robe as I opened the door. I stepped out of his path when I realized if I didn’t, I ran the risk of being mowed over.

“That’s my line,” he said, scowling. “How did you think I’d feel waking up to an empty bed after what we shared last night?”

I couldn’t have this conversation without coffee. I made my way to the kitchen, saying a silent prayer of thanks that I didn’t have to wait for a pot to brew. Mia had bought one of those single-serve pod deals before she’d moved in with Deacon and had insisted I keep it. I didn’t argue, especially since I knew Deacon had a state-of-the-art kitchen with every gadget known to man at his disposal.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching me rummage through the wicker basket that housed a myriad of flavored pods.

“Deciding which one I want,” I responded, as though it should have been obvious. “What do you feel like? Colombian?” Frightening that I not only knew how he took his coffee but which brew he preferred.

“I want answers, not coffee.” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.

That was when I allowed myself to look at him closely for the first time since he’d stormed into my apartment. He looked luscious in a pair of faded jeans, a gray T-shirt, with his hair slicked back from a recent shower. “Fine, but you know how this works. You won’t get your answers until I get my coffee.”