Page 146 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
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Julia
He fits his big body behind mine in that narrow seat and the heat of his body instantly envelops me. His powerful thighs bracket me from either side. He has to bend his knees to fit into the space, and the result is that he squeezes me even tighter in the 'V' between his legs.
"Wh…what are you doing?" I gulp.
"Nothing." He leans forward and the planes of his chest mold against my back and the hardness at his crotch throbs against my hips. I’m instantly wet.
"Damian," I protest, "I…need to continue with my—"
His warm breath whispers against my ear and I shudder.
"Continue with your—?" he prompts.
"With, uh—" I glance down at the now-shapeless piece of clay. What was I going to do? Oh, yeah, I was going to pretend to work on my next piece, in the hope that he’d leave, but clearly, he’s not. "With my work," I respond.
"You go right ahead, Flower," he murmurs, "I am going to be an innocent spectator."
"Innocent, my ass." I swipe up the clay, mash it up, then smack down the ball as close to the center of the wheel's base as I can. With the weight of my body acting as a brace, I begin to mold the clay.
He watches from over my shoulder for a few seconds, then reaches out to align his arms over mine. The skin of the insides of his arms slides over mine; I shiver. He wraps his big palms over each of mine, that are wrapped around the clay. A ripple of sensations bursts from the contact and travels up my arm. My nipples harden; my inner thighs flex. "Damian," I whisper.
"When you say my name like that," he swallows, "I’d do anything for you. I’d tear the world down to protect you…. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in a position where someone could hurt you."
The intensity of his tone whispers across my nerve endings. All of my senses seem to pop at once. "That wasn’t your fault," I reply.
"If I hadn’t agreed to marry you, if I hadn’t decided to turn the entire ceremony into a media circus, you wouldn’t have been shot."
"It was barely a scratch." I can’t stop the faint smile from curving my lips. There—this is the Damian I’ve come to know. The sensitive, caring man under all that bluster he wears for the outside world. The part of himself that he’s revealed to me over and over again, only to retreat. "Besides, you forget something."
"What’s that?" He crowds me further, if that were possible, so his front is plastered to me from chest to crotch, his thighs molded to mine, his arms and fingers flattened to mine…
I am surrounded by him, drowning in that edgy masculine scent of his. My mouth waters, and I swear, if I turn my head and offer him my lips, he’ll take them at once… But not yet. First, I need to tell him something. "You didn’t have a choice," I declare.
I sense him scowl. "About what?" he asks.
"I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer," I retort.
The muscles of his thighs flex, his shoulders inch forward and his entire body seems to curve around me, protectively, half-threateningly… In that way that is overpowering and dominant and oh-so sexy.
"Is that right?" he purrs.
I nod. "I would have married you, one way or another."
There’s silence, filled only with the smooth clatter of the wheel.
Then he laughs. A glorious, easy, mirth-filled laugh that rolls across my body, and arrows straight to my core.
"I have no doubt." He places his chin on top of my head. "I knew you were going to be trouble. I just hadn’t realized how persistent you were going to turn out to be."
"Someone had to be," I mutter, "considering you refused to acknowledge what was there right in front of you all this time."
He places his mouth close to my ear, "And what was that?"
"That you can’t live without me."
"Oh?"
