Page 36 of The Marriage Agreement
It’s been difficult to ignore his presence now that we not only spent the night together, but have to spend the entire day together as well. This morning, like the previous day, I woke up in his arms again. And this time, he has them wrapped around mine. It felt too cozy for my liking. Too cozy and too sensual. Too much like a couple. Even though nothing happened between us during the night, my body wanted so much for him to take me. I felt like I was nineteen again, pining over a man who cares little for me. A man I was pretending to be a family with. If nights are hard, daytime is harder. At least at night, I don’t have to think about how handsome he is. How good he is with Lake. It makes everything so much harder when he smiles at me each time Lake does something quirky.
Disneyland has been torture. Damien walks beside me the entire time and sometimes he surprises me by holding my hand. Every time he does so, my palm tingles and it takes all of my willpower not to jump. I have to remind myself that he’s doing it for Lake. It’s all fake.
As we enter a dark ride, the last ride of the day before we watch the fireworks display, I’m kinda glad it’s nearly over. Like most of the previous rides we’ve been on, we get the front seatsand as we’re heading there; I am jostled by a group of kids passing us by. I lose my balance, stumble and I’m about to meet the ground when I feel an arm around my back, lifting me and pulling me into an embrace. My head hits Damien’s chest. His pinewood cologne teases my senses, enveloping me.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
He unhooks his arm and lets me stand on my own. “Watch where you walk.”
It’s a brief moment, but my body does not recover throughout the ride. I’m even more keenly aware of him. As we ride down a river and watch animatronics sing and dance, Damien’s leg brushes against mine. I don’t know why I thought a dress would be a good idea, because I can feel his jean-clad legs more acutely than I would have if I had jeans of my own. At one point, the ride swerves sharply and I am thrown into his arms again. Subconsciously, I grip his shirt, pressing against the hard chest beneath.
“Careful.” His voice is more gruff than I’m used to hearing.
“Sorry.” I let go of his shirt, straighten in my seat, and scoot as far away from him as possible. We should have given Lake the middle seat. But he wanted to see everything and immediately rushed for the right end as soon as we got onto the ride. I focus on Lake and try to ignore Damien as much as I can for the rest of the ride. When we come to a stop, I get out of my seat as fast as possible as I try to give myself space to calm down my senses.
“Next up fireworks display!” Lake practically jumps out of his seat and out of the car. Damien takes his hand and then my hand as well. Once again, I feel a tingle in my palm. I’m not a schoolgirl for christ’s sake. I am a grown woman. But does my body know that? No. I keep reacting to him like I am a hormonal teenager.
We follow the tour guide to where the display would be most visible, still hand in hand. There’s little light left out of the sunand most of the crowd is either moving towards the exits or to the fireworks display. Lake skips in front of us as we stroll along the pathway lit with Parisian-style street lamps. It’s a romantic mood if you ignore the kids with Mickey Mouse headbands, princess outfits, and superhero costumes. I try to slip my hand out of his, but he holds me firm.
“I don’t think Lake has eyes on the back of his head,” I whisper.
Damien chuckles. “Does holding my hand bother you? You were jittery during the ride. Could it be you can’t tolerate my presence?”
“It’s not that.”
“Really? Then what is it?”
To any on-looker, one would think we’re two lovers whispering sweet nothings to each other. How wrong they would be. “If we’re going to pretend, we should be doing it when people are watching, don’t you think? Otherwise, it’s redundant.”
“I don’t know.” He yanks my hand and I almost yelp as he draws me to his side and slides his hand around my waist. “I think we become more convincing at pretending if we do it, even when people aren’t watching.”
I glare at him. Is he drunk? I don’t know who this man is, but it sure as hell isn’t Damien. I try to wiggle out of his hold, but Lake turns to face us, smiling, and I smile back, leaning into Damien. Damien gives me a look as if to say, ‘See? I told you so.’
We reach the arena and sit to watch the display. The fireworks are enchanting and for a moment; I forget I am with Damien. Lake claps with giddiness each time they pop a firework in the shape of a character or animal. His enthusiasm is infectious and by the time we get back to the hotel, I am as happy as he is. At least for him and the wonderful day he had.
Lake is so tired that when I put him to bed, he immediately falls asleep. I tuck him in, feeling a little sleepy too, but buzzedat the same time with an energy that only one man can cause. Damien. He’s leaning by the door watching me put Lake to sleep. When I turn, his eyes flare and darken. His gaze is pinned on my chest. I follow his gaze to see the top of my dress slightly askew, showing part of my left breast. Heat spreads through my body as I adjust the dress. “Thank you for the trip. Lake enjoyed it a lot.”
His eyes remain pinned to my cleavage.“You look just like you did that night.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate. We both know which night he’s talking about. I didn’t think about it when I put it on, but it’s the same style and color as that other fateful one. “It’s purely accidental,” I pass him on my way out of the room. He takes my hand, making me stop.
“I didn’t mean you did it on purpose. I was just reminded by it, that’s all.” His voice is low and rumbles in a way that makes my insides tumble. I dare not look at him. He might make me forget myself. “I’m tired. I need to go to sleep.”
Damien lets go of my hand and I make my way to the other room. Our room. I can feel his gaze trail my steps until I enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. But the respite is only for a few seconds. The door crushes open. I turn to see Damien stalking toward me and before I can even say a word, he captures my head in his palms and plants a kiss on my lips. A punishing, hard, and torturous kiss. It’s hungry and fiery. It matches what I have been feeling all day. I let him devour me as I press into his body. He groans and his hands slide down to my back and my buttocks. He squeezes them as he presses me against his throbbing erection. After what seems like forever, we both come up for air. His breaths are fast and shallow against my lips.
“You’re a torturer. Do you know the torment I felt for the past few nights?”He punctuates each sentence with an airy, light kiss.“When you were sleeping next to me and I couldn’t doanything?” Kiss. “I wanted to touch you.” Kiss. “Taste you.” Kiss. “Feel you.” Kiss. “The way you kept jumping into my arms at the—”
I draw back. “I didn’t do it deliberately.”
“Liar.” And kisses me again.
“It’s the truth,” I whisper against his lips.
He leans back and I almost lean forward so I can feel his lips again. “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want this.” His hand skims my butt and presses me against his erection again. He calls me a torturer, but I know what he truly wants to say, a seducer. And even though I know he thinks of me as someone out to tempt him. I should call him out. Push him away and put this to a stop. But to what end? I have dreamed of this moment ever since the last time we made love.You’re just another fuck.He said that to me later when I went to his apartment and tried to apologize on behalf of my brother, my father, and the way I acted. Am I just another fuck now? Does it matter? I’m older now and know how to keep my heart intact.
“I…I…” I mutter against his lips. He groans and I moan as emotion and logic wrestle within me. I should scream yes, but a buzzer at the back of my mind warns me to get as far away from him as I can.He’s dangerous. He’s using you. He hates you.
Damien takes control of the kiss and drinks me in like I am the last glass of water he will ever taste. His hands, which were frantically caressing my body, gain purpose as he finds the zipper of my dress and slides it down. My dress loosens and I let it pool onto my feet. My bra follows and in no time, I’m standing naked in front of him. The cool breeze of the air conditioner stiffens my nipples and makes me self-conscious. My body is not what it used to be. I’ve had a child and I haven’t lived on a strict diet. There are curves in places where they didn’t use to be. Damien steps back and assesses me. Does he hate it? He must.After all, he’s only dated supermodels. I don’t follow his love life, but every once in a while, I see a news article.
