Page 91 of Dirty Little Secrets
She rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
As we step out of the helicopter, I take her hand and lead her toward the house, light flakes of snow falling from the heavens. As we reach the front door, I sense Emery’s hesitation, and I pause for a moment, looking back at her.
"Is everything okay?" I ask.
She looks up at me. “This means something, doesn’t it?” she asks softly. “If we go inside, it will mean something.”
I give her a gentle smile. “Only ifyouwant it to mean something.”
“Since when has anything ever been my decision?” she asks softly, glancing at the grand double doors.
“Since now.”
Now and forever.
THE FAIRYTALE
EMERY
I’m torn.Stuck. Trapped between the harsh facts of reality and the blissful hope of a fairytale. I wasn’t born with the luxury of dreaming, of wishing, of visualizing a perfect future. I’ve lived my life in the moment, regardless of how dull that moment truly was.
Damon’s vision for the future isn’t dull. It’s not boring. There’s nothing lifeless about it. He thinks I won’t die. But I will. We all do. Some sooner than others. Do I die alone? Unfulfilled? Never having experienced the closeness of human connection outside of the physical? Is that how I want to go? Or do I try? Do I put effort into something, that in books, reads as effortless?
“Emery.” Damon places a gentle hand on the smallof my back, leaning into my ear, whispering softly. “We can leave if you want. We don’t have to…”
I don’t want to die in darkness. I don’t want to leave without experiencing color, without experiencing light. Although Damon harbors demons of his own, perhaps they can make friends with mine. They can distract each other and let us live. However long that may be.
“This means something.” I glance over my shoulder at Damon and nod, swallowing. “Open the door.”
A breath of warm air leaves his lungs as he sighs in relief. He slides a key into the door, and with a deafening click, I let him in. I hope he doesn’t run once he finds out what’s inside.
The energy shifts between us as we step inside the villa, a mix of expectations and anticipation bouncing between our bodies as he takes me on a quick tour. This house isn’t like his condo. It’s softer, warmer, almost magical in its comfort. It doesn’t suit him. Or me. There are no sharp lines or jagged edges. And yet we fit in. We look like we belong here. Why is that? Why does it feel like home?
Damon leads us toward the ten-foot tall Christmas tree tucked in the corner of the living room, steady flames dancing in the wood burning fireplace. My shoulders relax as I scan all the ornaments, my gaze stopping on the scattered photographs between the branches. Damon and his family. At least, I assume it’s him.
“Is that you?” I ask, leaning closer to the picture of a tiny toddler on a tricycle.
“Yes,” Damon chuckles, stroking my back. “Believe it or not, I was rather blonde as a child.” I glance up at him, and he grins. “I’m glad it faded. I don’t think that color suits me.”
“I like it,” I say, running my finger along the etched date. “You were what? Two years old here?”
“Mhmm.”
I let out a sigh, facing him. “You were quite cute, you know that?”
He casts me a playful smirk. “Were? As in not anymore?”
I roll my eyes. “Cute isn’t an adjective I’d ever use to describe you, Damon.”
“No?” He lifts a brow, his suddenly lush gaze flitting across my lips. He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us, and my insides burn. He lifts his hand up to my cheek. “And what adjectivedoesdescribe me?” His thumb grazes my hairline, the pressure so fucking tender, it’s almost debilitating. “Hmm?”
My mouth dries while my pussy dampens, and I can’t help but push my hips against his thick thigh. “Cocky,” I whisper, walking my fingers up his hard chest, unbuttoning his shirt with every word. “Arrogant.” Another button. “Inflexible.” Another. He wraps his arm around my waist, yanking me harder against his thigh. He grunts as I continue. “Demanding.” He rakes his fingers through my hair, tugging at the root and forcing my head up, and I mumble out the last word. “Sexy.”
My heart tumbles in my chest at how he looks at me, so feral and protective. I know what happens next.Something that we have yet to do. Something more intimate than sex. Something I’ve feared from the moment I saw him.
My skin hums as he brushes his thumb against by jawline, and then it happens.
Damon surges forward, our lips colliding. His tongue pries my mouth open as he sweeps me off my feet, hoisting me around his waist. His kiss softens for a second. Just a second. And I take over. I lose control. Every cell in my body hums with desire andlife.
