Page 60 of Devotion

“That’s a good thing, I hope.”

At first, I teeter my hand back and forth, insinuating that I’m on the fence about that, but my laugh makes it clear I’m only teasing. “It’s a good thing.”

His gaze is set on me, and the warm smile that curves his lips catches me off guard. You don’t look at him and thinksoft,but it becomes clear he’s a man of many faces.

A man capable of anything.

He grabs his helmet from the counter with one hand, then reaches for my hand with the other. Our fingers lace together, and it scares me that the inclination to shy away from his touch has faded. As we start toward the door, I glance toward Martinez again. This time, he sees me, likely making a million guesses about where my night with Damien is headed. But surprisingly, I don’t care that seeing me with someone else has gotten to him. Instead, I find myself clinging to Damien’s side even tighter.

We step out into the night air and our pace is unhurried as we stroll down the sidewalk, looking like the other normal couples we pass. However, I think we both know we’re anything but that.

A couple.

Normal.

“Did I do okay?”

I peer up when he asks. “With my friends? Are you kidding me? Pretty sure Dove considered slipping out of her engagement ring.”

He laughs, and the sound is deep and unmistakable.

“Now for theimportantquestion. On a scale from one to ten, how pissed are you that I’m here?”

I consider how to answer that. “I was a bit thrown off at first, but… I’m actually glad you came.” I swallow deeply after admitting that, feeling exposed and vulnerable in ways I often shy away from. “But while we’re on the topic, how the hell did you know where to find me tonight?”

This is the second time I’ve asked this question, but I’m almost positive he won’t give a reasonable answer. Then, when he offers nothing but a smirk, I’m certain of it.

“As long as you know that’s a little creepy,” I say under my breath, unsure why there’s currently a smile ghosting on my lips.

“As long as you know that won’t stop me.”

I’m not sure why, but I laugh. Most women would see his red flags and beg to be considered for the Witness Protection Program, butmyweird ass is actually… flattered? Pleased with the idea of knowing that I’m almost always on his mind.

“This way,” he says, and I follow his lead when he takes me around the side of the building. But then I’m confused, holding my breath when he releases my hand and grips my waist as he spins me. My back presses against the lounge’s brick façade and there’s this untamed look in Damien’s eyes.

A look that has my heart racing half a second before his lips are on mine.

The solid mass of his body is a wall of hot flesh and muscle I’d love to touch every-fucking-where. Our breathing deepens as I open my mouth, welcoming his tongue, not caring in the least that those walking past have a front-row view of what’s quickly becoming an R-rated moment.

“I’ve wanted to do this all… fucking… night.”

He breathes those words over my lips just before I steal another kiss. He draws me closer, and I imagine that having his lust reciprocated is the cause of the bulge that’s now throbbing against me. Deep down, I know I shouldn’t even be considering the idea of where things could go from here. But honestly? I’m no longer certain I’m strong enough to fight the pull.

The kiss ends, but his forehead is still pressed to mine, and breathing him in is perhaps even more intimate. The rawness of this moment, the thick, lust-infused air surrounding us… it’s almost too much to bear.

“I should… probably get you home,” he rasps, and I sense that the rest of that sentence might be something along the lines of“before we fuck in this alley and get charged with indecent exposure”.

I’m smiling, despite the strange feeling in my gut. It’s akin to guilt, brought on by having given Damien so much—my time, this kiss, my undivided attention. I shouldn’t be allowing him access to my thoughts, shouldn’t give any indication that I’m into him, or that his advances are working. Yet, when we peel ourselves apart and step away from the wall, I’m clinging to him even more than I’d been before.

We pause beside his bike, and I stand perfectly still as he gently removes the holder from around my ponytail. He secures the elastic band around his wrist before finger-combing my hair behind my shoulders, then places his helmet over my head. That sense of him always wanting to take care of me returns as he lowers the visor over my eyes with a coy grin.

He hops on first, letting me use his shoulders for balance as I swing one leg over the seat, and then lower onto it. I definitely wish I’d worn pants tonight—or even underwear—but I manage to mount the vibrating beast with surprising ease. And if Ididhappen to flash someone in the process? First look is free, I guess.

“Do I need to even waste my breath asking if you know where I live?”

Instead of using words to confirm what I’ve already guessed the answer will be, Damien glances at me from over his shoulder, smirks, then starts the engine.

Enough said.

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