Page 103 of Sexting the Boss

Damien steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his scent wrapping around me—woodsmoke, leather, expensive cologne, and something purely him.

“You think I care what she thinks?” His voice drops, just for me.

I glance at Nina, still watching from across the room, a glass of champagne in hand, expression unreadable.

I bite my lip, anger still simmering in my gut. “You sure as hell acted like it.”

Damien exhales through his nose, shaking his head just slightly.

“She doesn’t matter,” he mutters. “You do.”

I scoff, my body betraying me with the way it shivers at his words.

His eyes flick down, catching the movement, and his grip on my wrist tightens again.

“I—” My breath hitches. “Damien, let me go.”

His jaw clenches, his fingers twitching against my skin.

For a second, I think he won’t.

Then, finally?—

He releases me.

The moment my wrist is free, I step back, inhaling deeply, putting distance between us. I can’t think when he’s too close. I can’t breathe when he looks at me like that.

But just as I turn to leave?—

His voice stops me.

“You’re mine, printsessa.”

A chill runs down my spine.

I look back at him, at the way his gaze burns into me.

Possessive. Certain.

“I’m not,” I say, but I don’t think I believe it myself.

Damien’s eyes flick over me. “How much have you had to drink?”

I fold my arms over my chest, my pulse still skipping from his last words.

I’m not answering that.

Mostly because I’m not even sure.

I know I had one, then another, then…yeah. Enough to feel bold. Enough to feel reckless.

He exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come on,” he mutters. “I’m driving you home.”

“I can get a cab,” I say stubbornly.

Damien looks down at me like I just suggested something ridiculous.

“A cab?” he repeats. “After you nearly walked out of here blind with champagne-fueled dramatics?”

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