Page 30 of Knight

“If this was any sign, yeah, yeah I do,” he says. “At least I’m trying to.”

“Then you’ll take Willow home and let me handle this.” Christian glances in the backseat at my sister. “Take her home and text me when you do.”

His shoulders drop. “Alright.”

After thanking him again, I watch as he drives to the gate, solidifying my position. My stupid decision.

Walking back into that mansion, I march up the stairs, but not without grabbing that coin. “C’mon.” He helped me, now it’s time for me to help him. Pulling his arm, I help him back over the rail. The entire property is empty save for some party stragglers too faded to move off the lawn.

“What the fuck are you doing, Medusa?” He pulls from my hold but I grab his arm again and this time he lets me, staring into my eyes with a heat that makes it hard to speak.

Clearing my throat, I lead him up the stairs. God, I must be a masochist. “I’m saving you from yourself.” And just like that, he pulls me in again.

Seven

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Cold water drenches my shirt and jeans, Damien’s large, lean body hanging off my arms. There are way too many nozzles in this shower but I get it going.

“Joining me?” He has a stupid smirk on his face that’s both angering and smouldering. Tempting. He’s not kicking me out, not saying shitty things. He better not after I spent the last thirty minutes listening to him heave over a polished toilet. After a snack and a couple of slaps to the face, he’s coming back to life.

“Not a chance.” Pushing him under the stream of warm water I can’t help but smirk when he squints, water shooting in his blue eye.

Moving out of the way, he leans his body against the stone mosaic. Water drizzling over that hard body is hard to ignore. It outlines that monster in his pants I know all too well. Prominent and delicious.

I’m too distracted to know he’s reaching for me before he pulls me further in. “Damien, what the fu—” The feeling of his arms moving around me makes me freeze, my words doing the same.

I’ll admit, the water is soothing. I won’t admit his arms are too. Hell, his hold is as comforting as I remember. He’s like a venus fly trap: fascinating, oddly beautiful and deadly. His voice lowers in my ear, “Why are you helping me, Medusa?”

Forcing myself to look the devil in his eyes, I turn around and I’m sorry I did. That gaze can sizzle your heart. Ruin your panties. He’s looking at me like I’m having a similar effect, his eyes wandering around my face before they land on my tits. Finding my words, I force them out, “You mean, despite the way you treat me?”

I guess I’ve been here before, alone and lost with no parents. Seeing him left on his own after the party pulled at my heart. Whatever connection we have is way too strong and damn him. Damn him to hell.

“I remember treating that pussy like royalty.”

“And me like shit,” I snip. “You think I killed your father. You think I really—”

“Fell for me.” He pulls me against his chest, water flowing between us, our bodies wet and warm. “Just like how I fell for you.”

His lips crash into mine. Soft. Sultry. Damien. That boozy, peppermint taste on his tongue makes me weak to my core and my body wants him. So fucking bad. I can tell by the way my muscles relax, that pull between my thighs. When he sinks his teeth into my lip, it leaves a flurry of tingles rushing through me.

“Damien,” my words fall against his kiss. It’s more of a sigh than I want but he eats it up like candy, his tongue moving over mine like I’m his favourite fruit. His hands fall to my ass and I press against his chest, fighting everything inside me that’s begging for more. “I … I can’t—”

The water running over us reminds me of the time in the boys’ locker room. Trapped in a shower stall with my biggest enemy, and my biggest desire. He might be drunk but he moves with force, his knee pushing between my legs, pressing against my throbbing clit and fuuuck, this is a bad position to be in.

“Are you wet for me like you always are, Jo?” His words land against my ear again. “I want you so fucking bad. Do you want me?”

I can feel his heart racing against my chest and mine is beating just as fast. But I can’t give in if he’s just going to break me again.

Biting hard into his lip, he growls, pulling back. It gives me enough space to abort whatever this is. Getting the power to leave the situation I’ve put myself in, I move towards the exit. He calls when I do, “Don’t walk away from me, Medusa.”

I look back over my shoulder, my clothes soaked, sticking to my body. I say the same words he said to me that night, “Clean yourself up, Damien.”

My back hits his bedroom wall when I’m out of the bathroom, taking a second to catch my breath in the dark.

Being alone with Damien King was a short-sighted decision. And now, I’m reaping the consequences.

I’m supposed to be making sure he gets to bed without killing himself in the process. Not reenacting a scene from a porno.

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