Page 31 of Knight

“I did what you said.”

Damien’s voice startles me and when I look to my right, he’s standing in the bathroom doorway completely nude.

Water drips from his pecs, down his abs, all the way to his shaft and … he totally has a boner. He looks like a drizzling pile of sex and Queen Jesus help me.

Crossing my arms, I’m doing my best to pull my eyes away from his cock when I meet his smirk. “Damien, can you please put some clothes on?”

“Why? So you can stop wishing you were riding my cock?”

“I’m leaving.” Turning around, I make my way for the door, clothes still wet but he grabs my hand.

“Wait,” he says, and now Damien King is touching me naked and my body is well aware of it, the way everything is tingling.

Facing him, I’m waiting for an answer but instead, his face goes pale again before he’s falling to the floor.

Fuck.

My heart skips a beat when my knees hit the spot beside him. “Damien?” Slapping his cheek, he groans and I know he’s alive. But it’s up to me to get his drunk ass into bed.

* * *

Damien stirs next to me, jolting me awake.

It’s quiet, the sky still dark when my eyes flicker open.

I’m in Damien’s bed, sheets more luxurious than the ones I have at the Archibalds’. They’re black and silky, matching his soul.

Looking around his room, there’s not much to offset the black decor. Now I’m wondering if that’s to help with his frequent hangovers.

It wasn’t easy getting Damien to sleep. But when I crawled into his bed like he insisted, okay, more like demanded, he was out in seconds. I’ll admit I expected him to finish what we started in the shower. I won’t admit that I’m disappointed he was too fucked up to do it. I shouldn’t be wanting anything from Damien anyway. Not after all this.

He’s quiet when he sleeps. Just like I remember. The dude doesn’t even snore, just heavy breaths of slumber. Slipping out of the big, black blanket, a coldness washes over me. Out of my stubbornness, I stayed in my wet clothes, not wanting to give Damien a show. Didn’t mean to fall asleep in it. I’d given him enough, but now I’m starting to regret it.

Making sure not to startle him awake, I head towards one of the doors leading from his room. It brings me to a large closet that seems endless without the light on and I grab the first thing I see. A black designer hoodie. It smells like him. Weed. Pine. Fresh. And I’m angry with myself when I find it by my nose.

My phone buzzes from his black, porcelain nightstand. An obscure shape that makes me wonder how it’s even standing.

Rich people.

When I make my way over, Christian’s name lights up the screen which makes me glance at Damien. Still asleep. He looks peaceful. Serene, like he isn’t the devil he is. When I look back at my phone, I’ve missed six calls from Christian and a bunch of texts. I read the last one.

Christian: Please tell me you’re okay.

I text him back right away.

Jo: Sorry! I’m fine. R u?

I’m pulling on my boots, they’re still soaked from the shower but I’m not leaving them here. Checking the time, if I call an Uber now I should be home before three. Christian is quick with his next text.

Christian: Willow’s asleep. & I’m in your bed.

He follows that text with a selfie of himself tucked in my bed, fluffy covers to his cheeks and I’ll admit it’s pretty cute.

Christian: Didn’t want to leave Willow alone without you here but I could use some company.

Christian’s being forward, something he usually isn’t, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s only because I’m with Damien. Regardless, I’m grateful he stayed with my sister.

Jo: Getting an Uber.

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