Page 58 of Hard Rock Heat
His mouth twisted, looking thoughtful as he gestured for me to enter. "Collared shirts I've got, but I don't think I own more than one tie for weddings and funerals andstuff."
I stepped into the apartment and looked around. The decor wasn't ostentatious, not that I'd expected it would be. As wealthy as Damon was, he was more of a down to earth kind of guy. From what I could see, his living room held the standard matching sofa and armchairs, along with a few coffee and end tables. Nothing toocrazy.
Then I turned around and gaped. The entire far wall of his apartment was decorated floor to ceiling with vinyl records, face-out to show the coverart.
Damon noticed me staring. "You like mycollection?"
"How many are up there?" I asked. "There have to be adozens."
"I lost count after a hundred, actually," he saideasily.
"So you play guitar, drive vintage cars and collect vinyl records." I turned to stare at him. "Are you competing for the title of coolest guy in theworld?"
"Aw, you think I'm cool?" Damon smirked. "I thought I was just an immatureasshole."
"You've been downgraded to jerk face,remember?"
He laughed. "Come on, I'll show you the disaster zone that is my walk-incloset."
I thought he had to be exaggerating. When he opened the closet door, I missed a step andstumbled.
"This is…" I started tosay.
"It's a bit much," he agreed, surveying the mess of clothes. Piles and piles of clothes, just tossed on top of one another in mountainous heaps. The hangers and shelves were practically empty andunused.
"…gross," I finished. "How do you findanything?"
"I just kind of get in there and toss things around until I find what Ineed."
"Are these clean at least?" Iasked.
"Everything in the closet is clean," he said. "I put my dirty clothes in laundryhampers."
"Thank god for small favors," I said. "Why don't you hire a laundry service? The kind that washes and folds foryou."
"I do," he said. "When it's delivered, I try to put everything away nice and neat, but then I start looking for one thing in particular and I forget to hang things back up and then…" he shrugged helplessly. "So if you want business clothes, we're going to have to do somesearching."
Somesearchingturned into two full hours of tidying, folding and sorting clothes. I found a couple suitable outfits and set them aside. I continued helping Damon put the rest of his stuff away, just because I couldn't leave someone to live in such a mess. It was sad andpathetic.
When the last pair of pants was placed on a hanger, I thumped down on his bed and pretended to wipe the sweat off mybrow.
Damon sidled up to me and put his hands on my thighs. It was just like the first time at that boring corporate event. My reaction was exactly the same. Heavy breathing, flushed face, rapid heartbeat. But this time, instead of feeling overwhelmed and out of sorts, my hips rolled forward, encouraginghim.
He spread my legs wide and settled his hips between mythighs.
"Thanks for the help," he said. "I know it wasn't too muchfun."
"I'm exhausted," I said. But my heavy breathing had nothing to do with exertion, and everything to do with the hardening length pressing against my thigh. "As far as second dates go, this one has to be theweirdest."
"Second date?" He leered. "Sweetness, a real second date will leave you exhausted for completely differentreason."
I raised an eyebrow. "So there's going to be arealsecond date? I didn't think you didthose."
"I usually don't," was all he said. "But here weare."
He tilted my head up and capture my mouth in a blistering kiss. I opened my mouth, letting our tongues brush and glide against oneanother.
He crawled over me, pressing me down into the mattress. His length burned into me, even through his jeans. I reached down and cupped him, feeling theoutline.
