Page 89 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
Julia
What the hell happened there? One second, he’s inside me; the next, he can’t get away from me fast enough. I sink down against the closed bathroom door. He’d fucked me, and I swear, it seemed to mean something to him. He’d said as much. Maybe too much, considering he’d gone and insulted me almost as if it were in self-defense, like he was getting in too deep and wanted a way out.
He’d lashed out at me in that typical Damian fashion, where he was trying his best to hurt me. And he’d succeeded. My lower lip trembles. Bastard had hit me where it hurt. How dare he? I fist my fingers at my sides. How dare he leave without a second glance? Was it that easy for him? Like I was another notch on his bedpost that he could fuck and leave?
But hold on, he said he hadn’t felt like this with anyone before. That he'd never felt this connected to any woman as he had with me... Not even Riley's mother. And I believe him when he says that.
Is that why he's running from me?
From what I've pieced together, he’d dropped out of sight after Riley's mother left him— Again, how the hell had he kept that out of the papers? That's what must have prompted him to take a sabbatical, and focus on taking care of his daughter. And that had been a year ago. A year since he’d withdrawn from his gigs, to focus on bringing up his kid, to the extent that he doesn’t even want a nanny involved. I chew on my lower lip.
Apparently, he is done with me, and my orgasms too… Hell, nowthat, I am going to miss. How he’d glare at me and the tingles would start in my belly, how he’d touch me and my nerve-endings would fire in hyperdrive, how he’d kiss me and I’d instantly grow wet, how he’d lick my pussy and... Oh hell. I bury my face in my hands. Why the hell did everything have to turn out to be so, so complicated? Why the hell had I accepted his crazy-ass proposition in the first place? What is wrong with me?
Money is important, all right, but it has never featured high on my priorities… I mean, I could definitely do with that infusion of cash to pay off the debts I racked up while traveling. Not to mention that I wanted the money to ease the retirement years of my mother. But hell!
I’d been swayed by the cash and screwed up the chance I had to really understand this man. Face it… He’d ensured that the money thing stood between us… He’d wanted our relationship to be transactional. I'd proposed a one-night stand; he'd turned it into something more. On the one hand, he'd wanted to spend more time with me, but on the other hand, he'd reduced it to something financial.
In fact, he'd gone to great lengths to ensure that he kept me out of his life, out of his house, out of his head and heart. And despite all that, he'd sensed the deepening connection between us. Damn it, when we fuck, it is more real, more primal, more electric than any experience in my life. And he senses it. He has to. No wonder he is running scared. Coward.
No wonder he’d walked out on me without a second glance. He'd had an escape clause all along—the fucking money. This was all an arrangement after all, something he could pull out of at any time. Just another business decision.
And hell… Those orgasms he’d wrenched from me? I squeeze my thighs together… No one else could give me those. He’s spoiled me for any other man. After the complex, growling, broodiness that is Daddy Savage… No way, can I be happy with anyone else. Which means, I am, basically, fucked. Gah! My throat hurts and my head pounds. What the hell am I going to do now, huh? A shiver runs across my skin, and if I stay here naked, I’ll freeze to death. I rise to my feet, stagger over to the shower.
Twenty minutes and a whole lot of hot water and tears later, I feel somewhat human. My head still hurts and my nose is stuffy, and my eyes must be swollen, but fine… At least I’m warmer. A chill grips me and I press my fingers together.
Okay, not really. Nothing compares to the warmth that comes off of Damian’s big body. That man is a bloody furnace, and there is so much of him to go around, I could plaster every centimeter of my body to every centimeter of his and there’d be enough of his body left for me to press myself to his body twice over.OMG, what am I thinking?I have certifiably gone mad. My imagination is clearly in overdrive, or else I have OD’d on Damian enough that he’s gone to my head and lodged himself under my skin, in between my legs, in my heart…No, not there. Never there.
I turn off the shower, wrap myself in one of the long, fluffy towels I find on one of the shelves and step out. That’s when I catch sight of a bathrobe laid out on the bed. What the—?
So, he left me aching and angry, and yet, he’d stopped to ensure I had something to wear when I came out. How strange? I walk to the bathrobe, push my arms into the sleeves, and his scent teases my nostrils. My toes curl, my belly flip flops, and it feels like I am wrapped up in the man all over again. The pressure builds at the backs of my eyes again.No, no, no, goddammit, this is not happening. I am not going to cry over him.
Nope. I march back into the bathroom, notice that my wet clothes are gone. Huh? I head across to the kitchen, find that the washer-dryer is running. What the—? He ran a wash for me? And—the scent of coffee draws my gaze to the percolator, the coffee ready to be poured from the jug. He made coffee so I could have something hot to drink? Next to it is a covered plate, with a note.
Heat and eat this.
I trace the bold cursive and it blurs in front of my eyes. Why are you doing this Damian? You’ve been such a bastard to me, and yet, you want to take care of me. You don’t want to introduce me to your kid, and yet, you treat me like I’m special. In fact, that's what you told me right before you decided to cut and run. You're a complete mystery, Big D… One I am going to solve.
The dryer beeps, and I retrieve my clothes from the washing machine, only to find them entangled with his. Guess he'd changed before he'd left? Of course he wouldn't have wanted to drive back in wet clothes, not to mention he had extra clothes in the closet.
I disentangle my blouse from his jeans, my jeans from his shirt. If only it were that easy to disentangle my life from his? Tears prick my eyes and I brush them away. Damn it, now I am getting sentimental about laundry?
Once dressed, I pour out some of the coffee, and carry it, along with one of the muffins that I’d heated up. I walk toward the worktable with the clay molding tools laid out. I set my coffee down, reach for the armature, the framework on which the sculpture can be molded. It’s not what I’d normally use, but it will do. I reach for the ready-made moist clay in the tub on the side. Again, not what I’m accustomed to using, but hell, if it isn’t of the finest quality money can buy. The man had certainly not spared any expense.
I walk over, pluck my phone from my bag, and pull up my favorite music mix. The haunting tunes of Damian’s first album fill the air. Much better.
I pick up a fistful of the clay, shape it in between my palms, then get to work. I must lose track of time, for the next thing I know, I hear the door opening. I whirl around, to find Karina stepping through. Followed by Isla.
"What the hell?" My voice cracks. Shit, how many hours have I been here? My throat is scratchy, the way it gets when I am too focused on my art. "How did you two get here?"
Karina exchanges a look with Isla, then both walk over to me. "What are you working on?" Karina asks.
"Umm, it’s not ready yet." I glance around, then grab the folded burlap cloth, also part of the supplies he provided. Goddamn it, did the man have to be so perfect? Only when it comes to being thoughtful in things outside of sex, that is… Okay, hold on, even during sex, he’d made sure to take care of my needs, made sure that I’d orgasmed… Hell, my life had become one long, hot, sweaty climax since I'd run into him… Except when he had commanded me not to come, of course.Okay, stop. Don’t think of him anymore.
I place myself between the unfinished sculpture and my friends.
"Well?" I frown. "What are you doing here? How did you find me and—" I scowl at Karina, "How did you get a key to the apartment?"
She stares back at me.
