Page 27 of Call You Mine

And after what happened between us at the wedding, it made sense for me to proposition him.

It was obvious we had chemistry. It was so palpable, everyone in the room could tell that the sexual tension between us was close to setting the entire tent ablaze. Yet Damon refused to believe that anyone would believe our ruse.

At least that’s what he was trying to get me to believe.

“I know what you do,” I paused, swallowing my pride and mustering enough moxie to continue. “For work.” He slammed the liquor bottle on the bar counter behind us, and I flinched at the thought it would shatter from the force of it.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Wyn,” he snarled, his eyes glaring at me with an intensity I’d never seen before. “Is that why you came to me? The reason you showed up at my door yesterday. Was this your fucking plan all along, Servite?”

The room shrank in as dread filled me.How dare he think so poorly of me after all we’d been through?

Though once again, he spit my name out like an insult, and I hate to admit that it fucking hurt. That deep down he stillheld my parentage against me. I thought we’d moved past that. That he no longer cared who my brother, who my father was. I’d proved to him I was nothing like them.

But then again, had I?

It’d been a year since we’d last spoken before I showed up at his door without warning, demanding he help me. Demanding to use him for my benefit, and before then I’d left without confiding in him, trusting him although he was supposed to be my best friend, my confidant.

Now here I was again, demanding he help me after already making it impossible for him to refuse. And I’d offered him nothing in return.

That was my problem. The curse I'd been burdened with since birth. I was everything he’d originally thought of me. Entitled, condescending, a total fucking brat who believed she deserved everything offering nothing in return.

“That you have to ask me that hurts, Damon. You know I wouldn’t have come to you if I had any other choice.” His jaw tensed and for a split second I spotted a hint of hurt in his eyes that mirrored what I felt deep inside. That definitely hadn’t come out the way I wanted it to sound.

Goddammit Wynter, you're just digging yourself deeper into this mess. But this man drives me absolutely crazy!

“That’s not what I…”

“No need to explain yourself to me, Princess.” The hurt in his eyes was back but just as quickly he blinked it away and back was the wickedly sinful man who made me wish he’d drop to his knees and claim me. The man I tirelessly dreamt with every night, wishing he’d fulfill my most wicked fantasies. Wishing he’d make all the monsters disappear.

My unlikely hero.

I hated the way we’d left things the last time I was here, and now history was repeating itself.

Yet in the end Damon agreed to help me. Well, he agreed to work for me.

We hadn’t spoken since we each went to bed in our separate bedrooms that night, and now, two days later, I was about to walk into his office to go over the contract he’d drawn up for the services he’d be providing me with.

It still sounds so bizarre saying out loud but I have to treat this like any other business transaction. It’s the perfect plan to get my mother off my back and make her forget the ridiculous scheme of finding me a husband. Not to mention since I’m here running from what happened between Enzo and I in New York, this is the perfect cover.

Damon Drake is my perfect alibi.

Sitting in Damon’s home office, across from his desk in the plush leather maroon chair, my foot taps incessantly on the hardwood floor as I watch him. His gaze runs back and forth along the paper he’s holding up in front of him. It’s a thick packet, a contract along with a nondisclosure agreement and a few other forms I’ll admit I flipped through hardly skimming over the legal jargon.

Drake was running a legit business.Kingsman, was a foolproof enterprise complete with a list of qualified male personnel and a highly exclusive clientele list. From what I’d read online Kingsman is a primarily male escort service where young men are hired to accompany society women to social events or other privateactivities.

Yet according to the contract I read, there’s an added clause in every contract which states sexual acts are not prohibited, nor guaranteed as part of the arrangement, although they could be offered for an extra price and with mutual consent.

I feel my phone vibrate in my purse on my lap, but I decide to ignore it. I can barely feel my fingers as I clasp my hands tightly in front of me, resting them on my lap to stop them from fiddlingnervously. I could use the distraction but I’m finding it hard to look away from him.

He looks fucking delectable today. The dark emerald suit he’s wearing, not the usual black ensemble he’s always dressed in, brightens the color of his green eyes hidden behind the thickest, longest lashes I’ve ever seen on a man.

The tattoos painted along his neck have extended to the edge of his jaw blending in with the now thin layer of dark hair which forms the perfect shadow against his sharp features. I want nothing more to straddle him where he sits, watching the fabric of his pants strain over his thick bulge as his erection grows under me.

I want to lick my way down his throat tearing open his black shirt and continuing my trail over his pecs, down his abs, until I’m kneeled before him, taking him all into my mouth. I want nothing more than to taste him again, to bring him to the edge of his orgasm and watch his expression as his warm cum shoots down my throat, spilling out of my lips as I struggle to swallow it down completely.

I clear my throat, shoving the fantasy to the back of my mind. I need to prove that I’m taking this arrangement seriously in order for him to fully cooperate. Throwing myself at him before we’ve signed on the dotted line will only make him back out on me.

I need this. I have to think about my future and if someone from Enzo’s life were to come looking for me, having Damon by my side would be beneficial.

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