Page 62 of I'm Not in Love (I Promise)

“Sucks about Julie,” she says as we walk toward where Jasper and Falin are waiting. “You were right about her, I guess.”

“You’re making me hard. Say it again,” I tease.

She rolls her eyes. “You were right.”

I moan suggestively and she breaks into laughter. “Come on, let’s go do something about this boner.”

“You’re absolutely insane,” she says.

I stop and press her against the wall of Julie’s building, letting her feel what she does to me. “Insane and all yours.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

BLAKE

My laptop callsto me from across the room. I haven’t taken this much time off from studying in years, but Falin’s keeping a watchful eye and has threatened to bludgeon me if I try to work.

Speaking of Falin, her and Jasper are in the kitchen fighting over the correct way to make gluten-free pancakes. They’ve been at each other’s throats over one thing or another since we got back last night. I seriously need to get her out of the house.

Damon slips into the bedroom, holding something behind his back. He’s so damn cute when he’s being mischievous. “Happy birthday. Falin told me you were up.”

I rub my eyes and feel a slow smile spread across my cheeks. “Thank you. Come snuggle, I missed sleeping with you last night.”

He holds out a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. They’re a deep purple color, so dark that from far away they look black. In his other hand is a black box. “These are just the first of your gifts,” he says with a grin as he settles onto the bed beside me.

“These are gorgeous. I’ve never seen flowers like this before. What are they?” He sets the vase down on the side table and pulls out a single stem.

“They’re called black beauty peonies. The color reminded me of your hair.” He sets it on the pillow beside my head and leans down, brushing a kiss across my lips.

As he sits up, he studies me, like I’m the subject of a painting. I feel warm and exposed all at the same time. My voice is hoarse as I thank him, but I hold the wave of emotion back. It’s my birthday, a day to celebrate, not to get all choked up.

“Open the box.” I scoot up and take the box from his shaky hands. I’ve never been great at receiving gifts or compliments. It’s something that I’m working on, especially since the guys came into my life. “I hope you like it.”

“It’s from you. I know I will.” My face flushes as I open the lid of the box revealing a gorgeous silver anatomical heart necklace. Carefully, I remove it from the velvet pad insert and take a closer look. “It’s beautiful, I love it.”

“It’s a locket. Let me show you.” He holds his hand out and I place the heart carefully in his palm. “There’s a vial inside, filled with my blood.”

He hands it back to me so I can take a better look. It’s a bit morbid, but that’s Damon. “Does it mean something?”

“It means everything. I wanted you to have a part of my life force so I’m always with you. Wearing someone’s blood means you share a spiritual bond. There’s a magical quality to it. Back in the day people would carry locks of their loved one’s hair in jewelry or sew it into clothing, but this is better.” He gestures for me to turn around, gathers my hair to the side, then fastens the necklace around my neck. It hangs in the exact spot Bryan’s thumbprint would. I force myself to stay in the moment, thinking about Bryan or Mom would get me upset and that’s the last thing I need when Damon’s being so sweet. “There,” he says.“I’d gladly spill more blood for you, Angel. Every part of me is yours.”

I inhale a ragged breath and pull him close. “Thank you. This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

He holds either side of my face as our lips brush together, gentler than normal. My eyelids drift closed as our tongues tangle and explore. He touches his tongue to my lips, tasting me before delving deeper, capturing my breath.

Everything fades away—the noises from the kitchen, the stress of studying, the chaos of whoever is after us. There’s only Damon and me. He tugs my lip between his teeth. I hiss a breath and match his energy, sucking his bottom lip and nipping.

“I want you,” I murmur between kisses while sliding my hand under his shirt. “Please.”

Damon pulls back. I notice his blown pupils and heavy breathing. Seeing what I do to him makes me bold, like I can take what I want. He tugs his shirt over his head and I splay my hands across his chest, tracing over his tattoos. I’m aching for him, and I know he feels the same way from the bulge in his sweatpants.

I wrap my palm around his length, making him groan. “Lay back. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

He palms my stomach and pushes me against the mattress, settling his legs on either side of my body. I reach for him, but he holds my hands together, pinning them above my head. “Please,” I beg, lifting my hips against him, searching for relief.

“Shh, baby,” Damon whispers. “Just lay back and let me take care of you.”

I let my hands drop onto my pillow as Damon slides down my body and slips his hand into the waistband of my underwear. I raise my hips and let him pull them all the way down and off my legs. I’m shaking with anticipation… literally dying for him to touch me, taste me, anything.

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