Page 61 of Devotion

I squeeze his waist with both arms, holding my clutch in one hand against his chest. I’ve got half a mind to tap out and tell him I’d rather just call for a ride, but before I get the chance, he takes off, pulling out onto the road.

My arms cinch around him even more and I rest my head against his back, part of me praying it’ll be over soon, part of me wanting it to last forever. It’s a rush and it’s terrifying at the same time.

Which is also how I’d sum up my feelings about him.

The city zips past in a blur as he speeds through traffic, weaving between cars, and narrowly making it through red lights. So much for popping my motorcycle-riding cherry gently, I guess. But since I know him to be a calculated man, I’m willing to bet scaring me half to death is part of the ploy to make me hold him tighter.

And it’s definitely working.

We stop at a light, and the idling engine makes the bike purr beneath me, vibrating up my legs, into my core. I let out a breath, and when I draw in another, I inhale his scent from the warm leather around my arms. My heart races so fast, I’m sure Damien can feel it pounding against his back. Still, I wonder if he knows that it has little to do with this death-defying race through downtown.

And has everything to do withhim.

A sleek, black convertible comes to a slow stop beside us. Inside, a foursome of what I imagine to be college-aged girls hardly seem to even notice me, because their sole focus is lasered in on Damien.

The one in the passenger seat can barely close her full, glossed lips as she looks him over. It’s kind of hard to blame her for noticing what the rest of the world likely sees.

That he looks like fucking sex in a suit tonight.

Her window lowers and she smiles as she rests her elbow on the sill.

“Damn, mind if I climb on next?” Passenger-Seat-Princess asks. Then, she flips long, blonde hair over her shoulder as she eye-bangs Damien. “I’m told I ride pretty well.”

The others laugh, encouraging their “subtle” friend’s shitty behavior. It’s like I’m not even here, and being so blatantly disrespected stirs unexpected feelings inside me.

Jealousy.

Anger.

Damien’s eyes stay straight, never veering toward the car. It’s like he doesn’t even realize they’re there, but that doesn’t stop them from vying for his attention.

“First squeeze is free,” a brunette with a pixie cut shouts from the back, and my gaze shifts to her just as she turns toward the window, lifts her shirt, and flashes her tits.

I’ve done a good job of composing myself up until now, but I’ve reached my limit. My arms loosen around Damien’s waist, and I’m about to give these bitches the finger. They’ve earned atleastthat tonight. However, before I can get my hand free, Damien grips it, holding it against his torso. The feel of his slow, steady breaths against my palm relaxes me. At first, I think that’s his only objective, to calm me down, but then he pushes my hand lower, and I correct that thought. He doesn’t stop at his belt, going until my fingers graze the heat of his stiff cock, leaving his hand clasped over mine.

I grip him and squeeze as the sexual tension between us reaches a critical level. Meanwhile, the expressions of the girls beside us shift from childishly grinning when they thought they were ruining my night, to now looking like they’ve just eaten shit.

In a way, I suppose they have. Because without a word, Damien has sent them one hell of a powerful message.

That they don’t stand a fucking chance.

I smile behind the helmet as I move my hand over his cock, feeling where the length of it rests against his thigh. I savor the moment, stroking every solid inch of him as he casually returns his hands to the handlebars. While this display was definitely meant forthem,I’ve taken something away from it too.

I consider how Martinez would’ve handled something like this. My guess is he would’ve at least smiled at the girls, or even responded with a wave under the guise of “being polite.” All while being completely aware of how he’s encouraging their behavior. Then, when the moment would have passed, I can imagine how he would’ve scoldedmefor being upset, accusing me of blowing things out of proportion.

But not Damien.

He’s possessive and protective in a way that’s both overwhelming and refreshing, letting the entire fucking world know that he believes I already belong to him.

The car takes off ahead of us as Passenger-Seat-Princess gives us the finger. They speed off, quickly becoming a memory. And while I’m pretty sure I should remove my hand from Damien’s dick now that the moment’s passed, I don’t. Instead, I stroke him a few seconds longer, andthenlet go, placing my hand on his solid torso again.

As expected, he pulls right onto my street without so much as a question as to whether this is the right place. He kills the engine as soon as we’re in the driveway. The light isn’t on in Dad’s study, so it’s safe to assume he’s gone to bed at a decent hour for once.

I climb off the bike, and I’m a little surprised when Damien does the same.

“Walking me to my door like a gentleman, I see.”

He slips both hands inside his pockets when he nods. “Of course. What do you take me for? A savage?”

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