Page 27 of Claim

The closest person I had was Lucian. We were the troublemakers of the family, the black sheep, as they say.

He knew things about me that I’d never tell anyone else in the family. Such as my interest in kink. But I couldn’t divulge all my secrets to him. There were limits. He’d lose his shit if he knew some of the things I’d gotten into over the years.

Well, come to think about it, he’d either lock me away to keep me from going to jail or join me. One never knew with him.

Though for my current predicament, I needed advice only a big sister could give.

Since the moment I’d left the club a few days ago, a riot of uncertainty churned continuously inside me.

How could I want a man who’d warned me away with such passion, such dangerous intent, such command? It both scared and called to me.

Logic told me to listen and heed his order and my decision upon leaving the club. Except, this driving desire for Damon Pierce warred with everything I told myself.

I needed more of this fire he’d ignited inside me.

I’d never felt so free or cared for as I had in his arms. It made no sense.

I’d cried. I hadn’t shed a single fucking tear under any circumstance since my late teens.

Why had I let my guard down so entirely with him? Was something wrong with me that I craved Damon’s touch and the things he’d done to bring those tears to my eyes?

Taking a deep breath, I went for it. “Eva, can I ask you for some advice?”

“Of course.” Eva’s attention shifted to my face. “I knew something was wrong.”

“Does my asking for advice mean something is wrong?”

“You let Mom get in a few of her barbs before cutting her off. Either you’re getting sick, or something is wrong. And you never get sick.”

I shrugged. “I was distracted.”

“Obviously. Is it about someone you are seeing?”

Deciding there was no point in hedging, I responded with, “If you could call it that.”

“Sophia, why do you date these guys that aren’t worth your time?” Eva was the only person who could ask that without offending me.

She worried about me in her mother hen, big sister way but not in the holier-than-everyone, judgmental one. She never wanted me to walk away with a broken heart.

If she only knew, I’d never dated any of the men the press linked to me. The few men I’d gone out with were never in the limelight, and I kept those relationships quiet. And most of those ended once they realized things weren’t going to pass into the territory of the bedroom.

All of a sudden, Eva’s eyes grew wide. “Please tell me it’s not that fashion designer who the tabloids said cheated on his model girlfriend. You aren’t the other woman, are you?”

“Oh, for the love of God, Eva,” I couldn’t keep the exasperation out of my voice. “No. Give me some credit. And for the record, that’s a publicity stunt.”

Relief washed over her face. “I hoped it wasn’t true. You’re too smart for that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I worry about you, and sometimes my imagination gets the best of me. Blame it on the pregnancy hormones.”

I released a sigh. “You’re forgiven.”

“Who is he? A designer? Celebrity? Someone I’ve read about?”

“He’s not in the fashion world. He’s not in celebrity circles at all. He keeps a low profile.”

“I need more details.” Eva cocked her head to the side. “Let me take this thing off. We need to have a chat.”

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