Page 40 of Damien
Reaching to the side of his face, I brush my hand along his jaw as I apply pressure to the base of his neck to encourage him to bend in my direction.
Damien’s eyes darken when he realizes what I need, and a smile spreads across his face, as our lips align.
Pressing my lips to his, I feel his smile widen as he mutters the words, “I could get used to this.”
I may have started this, but Damien soon takes control. His tongue deliciously swipes across my lips, and they eagerly part, so I can taste him more. Damn. This man tastes amazing. There’s a hint of mint from his toothpaste, but something entirely him all the same. I never want this kiss to end.
“Mmmmm…” I moan as he pulls away. “I’m not done yet,” I admit.
I feel his chuckle before I hear it. “Van… I could do this all day… trust me… but we’ve got a game to be at.”
“There you go… being all adulty,” I tease.
His beautiful brown eyes roll, as a smirk forms. “There you go with the old-man jokes… I see how it is.”
Reaching up to peck him once more, I pat him on the cheek. “Well, if the shoe fits,” I tease, then turn and walk out the door to his driveway.
14
Damien
Oh,this woman.
She may be the death of me—but what a way to go.
Discreetly, I adjust the effects of our kiss and follow her out the door. Her dark jeans fit her like a glove, and her red hoodie comes just to the top of them, leaving me a spectacular view of her ass. I lengthen my strides so I can reach for the door before she can. “Here. Let me help you,” I offer.
I drive a full-size F350 with a crew cab. Thankfully, it came with running boards, or most would have difficulty getting in. Back in high school, I drove a jacked-up truck that most had to crawl into, especially shorter women—don’t think I didn’t use that to my advantage. But I quickly learned running boards were a necessity when I constantly had to help Mom or Dani get into the cab—hence the reason for these when I finally upgraded.
As soon as she’s settled into the truck, I close the door and move to the driver’s side, excited to spend more time with her. I could give two fucks what we do for the day as long as I’m with her.
When we arrive at the ball field, the place is packed. Thank goodness, I’m a pro at parking this beast of a truck, so I back into a spot with ease. We make our way through the gates, and I’m thrilled to find our seats six rows up from first base.
“Wow, your boss has great season tickets,” Vanessa says as she takes off her hoodie and reveals a fitted black tee underneath. It’s a beautiful spring day in Portland. The clouds are high, and the sun shines through. Taking Vanessa’s lead, I pull off my black hoodie and take the seat beside her.
“Yeah. I had no idea what to expect,” I admit. “Do you watch much baseball?”
Vanessa’s face turns a light shade of pink as her nose wrinkles in the cutest of ways. “Uh… not really.”
“Then why did you come?” comes out on a laugh I can’t hold in.
“You asked?” She shrugs as both a question and an explanation.
I just stare dumbfounded.Why subject yourself to something you don’t like?
“For the record, I happen to like baseball. I watched it a lot with my dad. But you asked if I watch it much. Since senior year in high school, the answer would be no.”
There’s so much to tackle in that one sentence alone. I’m not even sure where to begin. So of course, I just stare, hoping she’ll explain. Of course, I’m not that lucky. She turns her attention to the field for a few moments and watches the first baseman pick up an in-fielder as practice.
With her eyes on the field, she says, “I played fast pitch growing up. That is, until I got pregnant with Jules. It was something my dad and I did. Vince didn’t play. He was the kid out there picking flowers in the outfield. No, he was more musical, and I was the athletic one. I was also daddy’s little girl. We did everything together.” The way her voice changes at the end has me on edge. Did something happen? Was he not supportive of her pregnancy?
Her eyes blink rapidly, as if she’s fighting back tears.
Shit. What am I supposed to do?
Needing to do something, I place a hand on her thigh and squeeze, letting her know I’m here for her. When she doesn’t respond, I ask, “You okay?” for assurance.
With a voice barely above a whisper, she nods. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just give me a sec.”
