Page 90 of Just The Way You Aren't

"You’ve destroyed my concentration all evening." His hand slides lower, just shy of inappropriate. "Every time you moved, every time the light caught those diamonds and pearls at your throat..."

"The ones you put there," I remind him.

"Exactly." His voice drops to a rumble I feel in my chest. "Do you know what I've been thinking about?"

"Tell me."

"Taking you home. Peeling that dress off you slowly. Kissing every inch of soft, warm skin I reveal."

Heat pools low in my belly. "Damien..."

"I want to worship you properly," he continues, his breath warm against my ear. "Take our time. Make you come apart over and over until you can't remember anything but my name."

Good lord. My knees actually wobble. "You can't say things like that while we're in public."

"Why not?" He pulls back enough to look at me, his eyes dark with promise. "No one can hear but you."

"Because I'm about to drag you out of here right now."

"Promises, promises." But his grip tightens around me, and I can feel his heart racing under my palm. I can feel another part of him rising to the idea of leaving too.

We dance through two more songs, the awareness building between us until every brush of his body against mine feels like foreplay. Around us, the party is winding down. Older guests are making their departures, and even some of the younger crowd is starting to thin out.

"I should probably stay until the end," I say without much conviction as another group heads for the door.

"You've talked to everyone important. The auction's closed. Your speech was perfect." He nuzzles my neck, making me shiver. "And all I can think about is getting you alone."

"Damien..."

"Let me take you home, Willow. I can hardly stand not being able to have my hands on you. And my mouth."

The raw need in his voice makes it impossible to deny him. "Yes."

We make our goodbyes quickly---the event coordinator assures me she has everything handled for the remainder of the evening---and then we sneak out to his car and make the short drive from The Plaza to his townhouse. Our mutualdesire is almost unbearable in the small space of the vehicle, but Damien just holds my hand, his thumb stroking over my knuckles.

"You're being very restrained," I observe.

"Yes. But only because once I start touching you, I won't be able to stop," he says simply. "And I want to do this right."

“Seems like we’ve been doing ‘this’ pretty well so far,” I tease with a lift of my brows.

He chuckles, but his eyes smolder as he holds my gaze. He parks in his private garage, then leads me into the opulent residence. Inside, he wastes no time, walking me through the dimly lit space and upstairs to his bedroom. Once inside, he frames my face with his hands.

"You were magnificent tonight," he says softly. "Watching you up there on the stage, seeing how everyone responded to you... I was so proud of you."

I slowly shake my head. "We did it together."

"We did." He kisses me softly, then deeper, until I'm clutching his jacket for balance. "Now let me take care of you."

He seats me on the edge of his bed, then kneels in front of me. The sight of Damien Langley on his knees makes my breath catch.

"Let's get these off," he says, running his hands down my calves to my ankles. He unbuckles each shoe carefully, massaging my feet as he frees them. "Better?"

"Much better." I wiggle my toes against his thigh. "Although I'm actually getting used to the heels."

"I've noticed. Every man in that ballroom tonight took notice of you in those heels and this dress too. But I'm the lucky bastard who got to take you home." He stands, pulling me up with him. "Turn around, beautiful."

I do, and I feel his fingers at the zipper of my dress. Helowers it tortuously slowly, leaning down and pressing kisses to each bit of skin he exposes. By the time the dress pools at my feet, I'm trembling.

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