Page 66 of Pleasure Payback

I tightened my hold on her, aware that the years’ long bitterness had been overtaken by something else. Something that skated far too close to fear of the rejection I’d experienced on a vivid green lawn on a Greek island a thousand years ago. ‘You pushed for this, Neve. Now you know, you don’t get to scurry off in horror.’

Her breath caught. ‘I wasn’t... You...’ She stopped, drew her tongue over her lower lip. When she finally met my gaze the horror still stained her eyes. ‘I just...get you a little more now. And perhaps I’m stating the obvious but you’re not to blame. You were wronged, not the other way around. This wasn’t your fault—’

The laughter that ripped from my throat was harsh. Acid-sharp. ‘Of course it was. She caught me at a weak moment and I fell into her trap. She knew how close Gideon and I were. She’d been around us long enough to see that he was the only person I trusted to have my back in the viper pit that is my family because his parents fucked him over too. She tracked me down with a clear agenda and I let her play me like a damn instrument.’

Neve curled her hands against her chest, her subtle withdrawal scraping my senses. ‘What was her end game?’

‘She wanted to marry a Mortimer. Either Gideon or me. She wasn’t fussy about which one of us she trapped.’

I watched her gaze sweep down, felt her tremble as she attempted to ease away again.

‘Neve.’ My voice emerged sharper than I’d intended.

She tensed, lifted stormy blue eyes to me. ‘Not everyone has an agenda, Damian,’ she said, her voice wary and hushed.

A rough chuckle squeezed out. ‘That’s bullshit. I tried, just that once, to believe that and got fucked over for my troubles. So guess what, darling?’

She exhaled slowly before answering. ‘What?’

‘It’s never going to happen again.’

She opened her mouth. I slanted mine across it, delving deep until I drew a moan. ‘No more talking. Right now, I want back inside that snug little pussy. Are you going to deny me, Neve?’

Her gaze shadowed, but a moment later she slid her hand up my chest and over my nape. I let her draw me close, taunt me with possibilities I didn’t deserve but wanted to grab with both hands anyway.

And as I lost myself inside her once more, I dared to contemplate reaching out. Holding on. For a while.

Neve

I woke up alone to a room bathed in streaming sunlight, in the wide four-poster that screamed expensive antique in every inch. The whole suite boasted the type of furniture I would’ve spent hours rhapsodising over had my attention not been directed inward.

Very deep inward.

To a place I’d never visited before. Simply because I’d never experienced what I’d felt with Damian last night.

There were parts of him that remained an enigma. But his revelations had thrown him into a different light. One that made me understand him better. See past the self-assured man to the wounded soul who believed everyone had a malevolent agenda.

I rolled over and grabbed his pillow, my heart aching for him as I breathed in his scent.

Damian Mortimer wasn’t an unfeeling bastard. He was the product of the worst type of rejection from his parents and treachery from someone he’d trusted. Both resonated deep within me.

It threw light on how bad the timing had been the first time around.

The first time around?

The path of my thoughts startled me out of bed. Even if I wanted longevity of any kind with this...thing with Damian, there was absolutely no guarantee that it was the same for him. We’d made no plans beyond a handful of days. Our only connection was via Fantasy Rooms.

But there could be something. You can heal each other. Be partners.

I rushed into the shower, almost afraid of a solution so simple. So...tempting. But it wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t drown under the forceful jets of water.

Possibilities grew as I shrugged back into Damian’s shirt and left the room. Intending to return to my own to get dressed, I paused at the top of the stairs when I heard voices.

Well, one voice. Damian’s. Talking heatedly on the phone in what appeared to be a study. The door was ajar. I had every intention of walking past, every intention of giving him privacy.

But the raw, savage pain in his voice, echoes of last night, slowed my steps.

‘No. Enough is enough. Does he know what Penny did to me? Did you tell him?’

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