Page 57 of Call You Mine

Instead of tugging his pants off like I hoped he would, thrusting his hard and throbbing cock into me like I ached for him to, he reaches over me, placing a soft kiss against my lips before standing and walking out of the room, leaving me there exposed, expecting, and so fucking exasperated.

A small crack in the resolve he’s wearing like armor yet he held back. Damon’s still not mine, and now, as I lay here alone in his bed, weeping like I wasn’t just the happiest I’ve ever been moments ago, I’m not sure he’ll ever be.

Chapter Fifteen

DAMON

“What’s the bar called again?” Wynter calls out from inside the guest bathroom where she’s been for over two hours, getting ready for Jade and Bass’s grand opening tonight. Meanwhile, I’ve been pacing around my bedroom, unable to get any work done just thinking about being near her.

Her eyes lit up the moment I told her Jade invited me and I was taking her as my date. The idea shouldn’t excite me as much as it does, but it’s a proven fact I never think clearly where she’s concerned. Especially after what happened last night.

I said I wouldn’t go there again, but fuck if she isn’t making it hard.

Pun intended.

This game we’re playing is fucking dangerous, but hell if it doesn’t entice me. I’ve been known to crave danger and this game of cat and mouse we’ve played, has become my favorite pastime. However, I’m afraid I’m the one who's going to getcaught. Caught in another web of her lies and ambitions. Caught in the high of being around her only to come down tumbling when she once again leaves.

Because mark my words, she will leave. She may have come here running from something or someone, but I’ll make no mistake in believing she’s here to stay. A woman like Wynter isn’t meant to be kept. Not in a gilded cage, not even in a luxurious palace like the one she was raised in. Wynter Servite is a free spirit. A force to be reckoned with. A woman who cannot be nor should try to be tamed.

I walk over to the open door of the bathroom and lean against the frame, folding the sleeves of my dress shirt up to my forearms. “The Silver Wolf,” I mutter, losing my train of thought the moment I catch sight of her standing in front of the mirror.

Fuck me.

It continues to amaze me how every time I’m still blown away by her indescribable beauty.

Wynter is a fucking wet dream that keeps on giving, each time even better than the last. Her slender frame, trim waist, and perfect ass are killing me in her pair of low-rise jeans and the silver rhinestone top that shows her midriff and is open on her back. She leans forward, swiping a pale pink colored lipstick along her pouty lips, and my dick throbs the moment I catch sight of the torn fabric under her ass.

What is it with clothes nowadays looking more like random strips of fabric sewn together rather than clothing?

The funny thing is, this specific pair of jeans was probably worth hundreds of dollars.

A low chuckle leaves her as she smacks her lips together, rubbing in the glossy lipstick. “How original of them,” she mocks, but I know it’s not meant with any sort of malice. Wyn’s not wrong. Bass and Jade combining their last names, Silver and Wolfe, together is pretty basic, but I guess it makes sense, sort of.

When I don’t respond, Wynter looks up, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. Her smile instantly falls, taking in the scowl upon mine. “Is this not okay?” she asks, pointing down at her outfit before turning to face me.

She nervously twirls a strand of blond hair between her fingers as my eyes continue to take in her appearance. From the top of her head, to the dark shadow encasing her frosty blue eyes, to the sparkly fuck me heels on her feet. It’s like this incredibly sexy woman was carved from every one of my dirtiest fantasies.

Created just for me to obsess over. To test my restraint and punish me for every wrong I’ve ever done. I’m the only one punishing myself by refusing to make her completely mine.

I don’t reply, unable to think straight and altogether forget what she’s asked.

“Shit, you’re right. It’s a bar. What was I thinking?” she mutters more to herself than to me, reaching behind her back to unbuckle her top. My cock strains in my jeans when I realize she’s not wearing a fucking bra underneath and her tits are about to be on full display in less than two seconds.

She must not realize what she’s about to do or she's once again purposefully trying to taunt me. Either way, I need to stop her if I plan on keeping my last strand of self-control.

After all, I was the one who turned down her outrageous proposal last night. It took everything in me to walk away after making her come with my mouth and fingers. Especially as she stood there in the hottest piece of lingerie I’d ever set my eyes on. The first time she sent me a photo wearing it, I nearly lost my shit and claimed her there and then.

The photos kept coming for an entire week. Wynter was posing in various positions. In some she wore more clothes and in others, she posed in a way to hide if she was wearing anything. They were professionally done, some sort of boudoir shoot. Inearly got a coronary from just thinking of some asshole taking the photos of her. But I looked up the closest place in town and luckily it was a woman-owned business.

The following week, I found them around every inch of the house. By the coffee pot, on the fridge, in the gym, in my drawers, even taped onto my bathroom mirror. She was everywhere. Walking around in the sexiest little nightgowns, I had to lock myself in my bedroom every night to keep myself from going after her.

But the little minx outdid herself this time. Ten large frames hung along every inch of my bedroom walls. She lay there on my bed, looking equally delicious, and when I didn’t make a move, she touched herself. Her fingers disappeared underneath her thong and when they went inside her, I nearly lost it. I had to hold back. My craving for her was more than just a need—it was the only way I could survive.

Seeing her there, lying in my bedroom, in the middle of my bed, in the sexy ass piece of lingerie that had been taunting me in her photos, was almost too hard to resist. But I held onto my restraint.

At first I was mesmerized, watching the way she slowly played with herself, teasing and testing the waters. She was so eager, begging me to ease the ache building up inside of her.

Though the look in her eyes as I rejected her was heartbreaking. She ran out of the room in tears, but didn’t make it far before I carried her back to me and held her against my chest to hold her against me until she fell asleep. But that’s not what happened.

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