Winner Takes All (A Full Length Erotic Romance Novel) (23 page)

“Fuck you, James. No matter what happens,
don’t say I never tried to help you.”

Then she stood up, and left.

Out in the parking lot, she got into her
little white Honda and drove back to the restaurant a few blocks away where
Damien was waiting for her. The sun was high and warm overhead. Sunday
afternoon traffic plentiful on the popular strip of restaurants and clubs. The
smell of the river floated in through the open windows, mossy and rich. When
she walked into the small diner, the bell above the door rang and her lover,
seated near the back of the small eatery with a newspaper spread out before
him, looked up at her with concern on his face. He put the paper aside as she
approached the table.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Sasha shook her head. Wondering why she even
thought she could change her brother’s mind about what he was doing, especially
when he’d been on this same path for most of his life. Taking advantage of the
weak. Always lurking in the shadows to take what others had worked for instead
of working for anything himself.

“Okay,” Damien said. “Then we’ll go see my
contact in the police department tomorrow.”

She bit the inside of her lip and nodded.
There was nothing more she could do for her brother. He had brought this on
himself, had gone against blood in a way that she could never imagine, and now
she would pay him back for all the things he had done to her.

“Tomorrow,” she said.

The next day, she and Damien talked to his
contact in the Louisville Police Department. A lieutenant in the Criminal
Investigations Department. He was tall and thickly built as she’d expected, but
handsome with an intelligent face and a kind manner. Sasha huddled at Damien’s
side in the cold and official looking office, her hands clenched into fists in
her lap. She told the officer everything. About her family. About James. About
the money he’d extorted from her.

“We want to put a stop to what her brother is
doing,” Damien said. “
I
want him in jail so he can’t hurt anybody again,
but I don’t want this to come out in the news, Chet.”

The lieutenant nodded. His ice gray eyes
moving to Sasha. “I understand. Getting him off the streets and out of her hair
is no problem. But the other thing, keeping this under the radar, will take
some doing.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damien said. “But I
don’t care what it takes, I need this done.”

The police officer nodded. “I’ll put someone
on this today and you’ll hear from me in a couple of days. Have your lawyer get
in touch with me.”

“Excellent. Thank you.” Damien stood up to
shake his friend’s hand. “I won’t forget this, Chet.”

The police officer chuckled, a rusty sound as
if he wasn’t used to laughing. “Neither will I.”

The hotel restaurant felt like they were on
top of the world. The Rivue restaurant atop the Galt House Hotel slowly rotated
as Sasha and Damien sipped their after-dinner drinks nestled in their private
corner of the 25th floor establishment. Breathtaking views of the city by
starlight—the Ohio River shimmering and dark but brilliant with spots of light
reflecting the buildings. The breathtaking arches of the Kennedy bridge across
the water. The high rises that Sasha was used to seeing looming over her but
from the rooftop restaurant were at eye-level or lower.

She drew in a deep breath, enjoying what felt
like the first free breath she had drawn in months. Across the table from her,
Damien sat with his half-finished glass of single malt scotch, watching her.
They had had a long and leisurely dinner, a celebration of Sasha’s freedom from
the twin tyrannies of her brother’s extortion and the false doping allegations.
The meal they had shared was one of the most delicious Sasha had ever eaten –
fresh seafood, tender pasta, intoxicating wine. All enjoyed with Damien across
the table making her laugh with his wry humor, encouraging her to try new
things on the menu. “This chocolate torte is nice. Try it,” he’d said, lifting
the fork to her mouth, his blue eyes bright with tenderness.

She’d tried everything he put in her mouth,
tasted the flavors that had taken on an even more delicious quality for being
shared with him. Creamy risotto fritters. Lobster bisque. A medium rare New
York Strip in a rich port wine sauce. Fancy French fries with an actual French
name.

Now dinner was done and they sat with their
after-dinner drinks enjoying the view of the city that was slowly revolving
outside the glass walls of the restaurant. It felt almost surreal. The
simplicity of it. The pleasure.

“I can’t believe the craziness is all over,”
she said.

The hot apple cider spiked with bourbon and
green apple schnapps had relaxed her even more than the meal and Damien’s
company. She felt warm and nearly boneless with the simple bliss of their
evening together.

“It is,” Damien said. “Your brother is going
away for a long time. He won’t hurt or bother you again.”

Sasha lowered her eyes, torn between relief
and regret. But she had done what she had to. Now it was time for her to enjoy
the peace of mind she had been lacking for far too long now.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,
Damien.” She reached across the table for his hand, took it in her own. “I’m
sorry I didn’t trust you with the story before things got so far out of hand. I
just—” She sighed, thinking of all the insecurities that had plagued her since
fighting her way from the group home and to being a woman able to care for
herself, a successful woman who had always been looking back and expecting her
past to catch up with her. “I just never imagined that I could rise above my
past.”

She’d already told him about her parents,
about the group homes she’d endured, how she had made her way into his life.
He’d only supported her even more because of her honesty.

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you now,
Sasha. Your past means nothing to me except that made you exactly the kind of
woman you are today. The perfect one for me. I know your life had been hard
before now, and your brother brought it all rushing back to you. But believe me
when I say that knowing these things changes nothing about how I feel about
you.”

Damien’s fingers curled around hers on top of
the table. His lashes fell low over his eyes, their shadows fanning across his
cheeks. “I love you, Sasha. All of you. Every part of you.”

She stared at him in astonishment, aware that
her mouth had fallen open. Even though she loved Damien, had fallen in love with
him, deeply and irrevocably weeks before, she never dreamed he would feel the
same way. Never.

“You do?” Of all the dismissive or flip
things she wanted to say, that was not one of them.

“Of course I do.” He smiled gently, caressing
the backs of her palms with his thumbs. “It’s not every woman I allow into my
bed, you know. It’s not every woman I go through such lengths to protect.” He
paused. “You’re like part of my family now. A part that I can’t see myself
without.”

Sasha forced a glib smile past her
astonishment. “Are you sure you’re not saying that just because of how good the
sex is between us?” She meant to be dismissive, but her voice shook.

Damien’s eyes did not release hers. They
relentlessly poured his love into her while he held her hands clasped in his.
As if he knew how hard it would be for her to say the words they both knew
waited for him under her tongue. He leaned across the table and kissed her. His
mouth pressing sweetly against hers. Then his tongue, a gentle intrusion,
slipping against hers, stroking, bringing a slow pleasure. Even in the midst of
so many people at the restaurant, the heat between them rose like a swift tide.
Damien slowly disengaged their kiss, nibbling her lips before he pulled back to
his side of the table.

Sasha licked her mouth to taste the faint
traces of scotch and sweetness he had left behind. “I love you, Damien Taylor.”

He smiled. “I know.”

Sasha flushed, embarrassed she’d been so
transparent. And happy that, incredibly, this man loved her too. She reached
for her hot apple cider with a hand that shook, took a sip, swallowed the hot
and spicy drink. She jumped when Damien touched the back of her hand. She
looked at him. And felt her mouth go dry.

His face had changed, had the hard look she’d
come to associate with his desire. With sex. His mouth was curved and firm.
Eyes a burning, bright blue on her face.

“Put your hands flat on the table,” he
murmured, his voice low and almost conversational.

She knew it was a tone that had to be obeyed.
Sasha put her hands on the table in front of her, bracketing her half-empty
glass of hot cider. Damien took a sip of his scotch, pursed his lips as he
watched her from across the table. Then he deliberately put down the crystal
tumbler and stood up.

Sasha clenched her teeth to prevent herself
from crying out in disappointment, to ask where he was going. But he only left
his seat across from her to sit in the chair next to her. Air leaked from
between her lips. Relief.

With him beside her now, she could smell the
subtle spice of his cologne, the Scotch on his breath. Something darker,
masculine. Intoxicating. He shifted, the jacket moving across his broad
shoulders, giving a hint of the hard muscles she knew coiled beneath the
expensive fabric. He reached across the table for his drink and put it directly
in front of him.

Around them, the restaurant carried on as
before. The wait staff moving efficiently amid the tables while the restaurant
spun lazily on top of the world. The city lights winked like diamonds.

One of Damien’s hands dropped beneath the
table to rest on his thigh out of sight beneath the black and white print table
cloth.

“Tell me,” he murmured. “What’s the thing you
like about me best?”

She startled at the question, not at all
expecting something so innocuous given with the wickedly sexy look on his face.
Sasha licked her lips, opened them.

“You can’t say anything about my looks or the
way I make your body feel.”

Her mouth snapped shut. A moment later, she
felt his hand on her thigh, over the deep rose fabric of her dress. A dress
he’d complimented when she’d come out of the walk-in closet wearing it with
black high heels and her hair swept up in an elegant topknot.

“Tell me, darling,” he said softly.

His fingers floated over her clothed thigh,
distracting all thought from her mind, but the whip of command in his voice
brought her back to what she should have been saying. She licked her lips
again. Her hands twitched against the table cloth.

“I like that you make me feel special,” she
said finally.

“Tell me more.”

His fingers caressed her skin through the
silk, making slow circles that sent ripples of arousal between her legs.
Sasha’s thighs fell open. Her nipples grew hard against the thin silk of the
dress, tightening almost painfully, sinfully. As he caressed her, she told him
about being in group home and never having anything for herself, how everything
she’d ever called her own had been taken away, stolen, or lost when she’d been
moved from group home to foster family then back to a group home again.

“Although I don’t own you,” she murmured. “I
love the feeling of you belonging to me, and of me belonging to you. That no
one can take us away from each other.” She said the words as his fingers tugged
the silk of her dress higher until nothing lay between her flesh and his touch.
Her breathing sped up.

On a whim, she hadn’t worn any underwear on
their dinner date. She was glad she’d planned ahead.

Damien touched her thigh, caressed the
sensitive flesh, nakedness upon nakedness. Then he slipped his hands between
her thighs. She was already wet for him. He hissed, reached out to pick up his
Scotch with his left hand, while the fingers of his right swirled in her
wetness, delicately caressed her swollen clit. Sasha bit the inside of her lip
to stop herself from making any noise.

“And what else?” he asked as he sipped his
drink. “Are there any other reasons that an incredible woman like you would
want a man like me?”

“Plenty!” She gasped the word as he thrust
two fingers inside her, a slow and delicious stroking that made her want to
sink her fingers into his shoulders, bite his throat, whisper his name. But she
could do none of these things. She couldn’t even think of what else he might
want to hear. She could only feel. Only react. Only revel in the bliss taking
over her body. Her hands flattened against the table cloth. Widened as the
fingers teased her opening, moving in and out of her in an unpredictable but
spine melting rhythm, his thumb circling her clit. Hard then soft. Hard again.
Tingling heat filled her belly, pooling between her thighs, making her muscles
tremble. Her breath staggered, a whimper left her throat.