Damian (17 page)

Later that afternoon, hours after Damian had left, I was still in a state of euphoria—that pure, unadulterated state of mind where I just felt remarkable, like a dizzying drug that I hadn’t come down from.

I was itching to share my happiness with someone. I picked up my cell phone and knew exactly who I wanted to call.

No, it wasn’t Damian.
I may be falling for him hard, but I would never admit that to myself this early on. Plus, I would never give a guy—especially a guy like Damian—the satisfaction of knowing I was that interested in him
.

No, I didn’t call Damian. I called my best friend, Deb.

“Hey, California girl! How’s life at the beach?” Deb asked with her usual cheerfulness.

I laughed. “I don’t live at the beach, Deb.” I didn’t realize how much I have missed my best friend until now. We’d known each other since middle school, the year before I lost my parents, and she had met me before I was “that orphan girl.” And even after my parents passed away, she had always seen me for who I was, and not who everyone else had seen when they looked at: a lonely orphan girl who deserved their pity and sympathy. She had been my rock during some difficult periods of my life, and I loved and missed her.

“What? Aren’t you right by the beach?” she asked in disbelief. I realized that this was the same shock I had felt my first week in San Francisco when I found out that it wasn’t true.

“Well, I’m a few miles away from the coast, but it’s not like the beaches you see in pictures or on TV. It’s pretty rocky and cold near the beaches in San Francisco.”

“I thought you guys didn’t have winters there?”

I laughed again. It was early-December, and it was sunny and in the low-60s. “They have a mild winter here, so it doesn’t snow or get too cold. But San Francisco doesn’t get too hot either. So the beaches aren’t what you imagine from what you’ve seen on TV,” I tried to explain.

“I knew it was too good to be true. TV always lies,” she pouted sarcastically.

I shook my head and giggled. “The nice, warm beaches are in southern California, like Los Angeles and San Diego.”

“Oh, you should move there. Then I’ll visit, and we can lay out on the beach and watch hot surfers do whatever they do as they walk around half-naked all day.”

I laughed.

“So seriously, how’s everything over there? I haven’t talked to you in weeks, and the last thing you mentioned was getting locked out of your apartment and having sushi with some hot neighbor.”

A wave of guilt washed over me as it dawned on me how long it had been since I’d called Deb.

“Well ...” I began.

“
What
happened?” she asked instantly, knowing from the tone of my voice that something indeed had happened since we had last talked.

“Damn,” I responded with a laugh, “You know me too well.”

“So spill it!” she demanded.

I giggled. “Well, you know the goodbye care package you got me before I moved?”

“You didn’t!?” she interrupted me, knowing exactly where I was going with the story. “What happened?”

“Let’s just say, your care package was put to good use.” I giggled and blushed as I thought back to everything that had happened last night.

“You did! I told you they’d be essential items for your new life in California! What did you use? The whip? The dildo? The anal beads?”

“No, and no, and definitely
no
,” I laughed.

“What then?”

“The condoms and handcuffs,” I said sheepishly.

“The magnums?” I could hear the disbelief in her voice. “Who is this sizeable stallion? And he actually agreed to use the pink fuzzy handcuffs?”

For the next hour, I filled Deb in on everything that happened with Damian in the last few weeks. When we ended our call, I felt more excited about Damian than I had an hour before and a strong urge to see him overcame me.

He did say to stop by the bar if I wanted
, I reasoned with myself.
One drink won’t hurt.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my keys and purse and ran out of my apartment to head down to the bar.

When I walked through the door of Damian’s, he immediately looked up and saw me from across the bar. His eyes lit up and a wide smile appeared on his face.

I flushed and a warm tingling sensation spread down my body. I wanted to believe that his reaction was because of me, that the twinkle in his eyes was only for me, and that the mesmerizing smile spread across his face existed just for me. I wanted to believe that in some cosmic way, there was a special place in his heart—a warm, enduring, and
permanent
place—reserved just for me.

But I quickly pushed these thoughts aside. I didn’t want to allow myself to become too hopeful. I couldn’t allow myself to care for this man more than I already did. Nothing good came out of thinking there was something more there than there really was.

When I sat down at the end of the bar, he already had a Sex on the Beach ready for me.

“Hey gorgeous, did you miss me?” he asked seductively as he leaned against the bar counter and pulled me in for a kiss. His husky voice and tantalizing kiss were filled with promises of hot, earth-shattering sex that he knew I couldn’t say no to.

“Of course not,” I teased back. “What’s there to miss?” I smirked at him.

“You tell me.” He gave me a wicked smile. “Maybe some
extracurricular
activity you did last night will jog your memory.” He winked at me and with that, he left me to my drink and headed over to the other end of the bar to take the drink orders from a group of girls that had been giggling and eyeing him since they walked in a few minutes ago.

I rolled my eyes as I sized up the group of girls. They were definitely cute and they were
definitely
not shy about flirting with Damian. I felt a tinge of jealousy and anxiety as I carefully watched his interactions with them. I could tell he was being his natural charming self, but I wasn’t sure if it was merely an act as a bartender or if he was actually interested in one of them.

I slowly sipped my drink and started to get lost in my own thoughts.

Why did I convince myself to come here? I knew I shouldn’t see him again so soon if I could help it. I knew he effected me in a way that scared me.

I looked down at my drink and sighed. I knew there were better things to do with my time than to sit here alone, competing for his attention. And yet there I was, glued to the barstool and watching him like some lost puppy. I knew he was dangerous to my heart. I knew he probably wouldn’t give me what I wanted. And yet, I couldn’t help it. I had an addiction, and Damian was my drug. A thrill ran through me when I was with him that I’d never felt before—an unbelievable high that could only be compared to sheer euphoria.

“Penny for your thoughts?” came Damian voice.

I blinked and saw him standing in front of me with an amused look on his face. I smiled up at him who was now studying me. “Oh, nothing. Just … thinking about work,” I lied. From the corner of my eyes, I caught a glance of the group of girls he was talking to minutes before. They were sipping their drinks and eyeing us from the other end of the bar.

“And here I thought you were thinking about me with that dreamy look on your face.”

I blushed. “You
would
think that.”

“You want another drink?” he nodded to the drained glass in front of me.

“No. I should get going. It’s Sunday and I have some errands to run before the work week starts.” I noticed the group of girls still staring at us. “Besides, it looks like you’ve got your hands full.” I motioned towards the girls.

He followed my gaze and one of the girls winked at him. He laughed and turned back to me. “It’s all a part of the job. Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not,” I scoffed.

“Right. Well, even if you’re not, you should know that none of them holds a candle to you.”

My face lit up and I smiled at him, swooning over his words. “You
are
sweet, Damian.”

“Just as long as you keep that between you and me.”

“My lips are sealed.” I got up and threw a $20 bill on the counter for my drink. “Okay, it’s errands time.”

“Hey, your money is not good here.” He shoved the bill back toward me.

“Who said I was paying for the drink,” I said in a low, seductive voice. “Let’s just call that a tip from me to you.” I winked at him, turned, and walked away. As I strode out of the bar, I knew with near certainty that he had watched me walk away, and at that moment, I felt like I was on top of the world.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Damian

“HEY BABE. I’M GOING TO THE pottery studio for the afternoon. Have a good day at the bar. I’ll see you for dinner?” Alexis walked behind the bar counter to give me a hug.

“Yeah, for sure.” I smiled and pulled her in for a goodbye kiss.

“Don’t miss me too much,” she teased as she moved her arms down my back. She grabbed both of my ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze as she pulled my pelvis hard against her body. My cock responded to her instantly and grew hard against my jeans. Even after two months of sleeping with her, she still had the ability to turn me on with little effort.

“Oh! I sense someone’s going to miss me.” A devious smile curled on her lips as she unzipped my jeans and reached in to greet my hard erection. “I’ll definitely miss this,” she moaned as her fingers moved along my shaft, making it pulse with need.

“Fuck Alex. Don’t do that to me and then leave. That’s just wrong. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll teach you a lesson and you’ll beg me not to stop,” I warned as her hand moved faster.

“It’s not my fault you go commando all the time and make the pistol easy access.”

I laughed. She had named my cock “the pistol” since we started having sex regularly.

“Come on, baby. Just ten minutes. I’ll be quick,” I begged.

She giggled and zipped up my jeans, confining the pistol back in its cell. “That’s what you said last Saturday, and I ended up getting to my own class fifteen minutes late and all flushed and sweaty.

“You must have looked so fucking hot,” I groaned as I pulled her closer toward me, rubbing her pelvis against my growing erection.

She pulled me in for a kiss. “You can have your way with me tonight. I promise,” she said as she moved away. “But I can’t be late again.”

With that, she was out the door, leaving me staring after her with a hard cock pushing against my jeans.

It had been almost two months since that night Alexis and I had sex for the first time, and we have been spending a lot of time together—in and out of the bedroom. I hadn’t intended for things to go for this long. She was amazing in bed, and in the beginning, I had convinced myself that there was nothing more to my feelings towards her. She was hot and an amazing fuck. But after two months, we had developed some routines together, like our go-to sushi take-out restaurant, Friday movie night, and mind-blowing sex at least once a day. I had gotten used to her around in my life, and as much as I denied it, I liked having her around.

About an hour into my afternoon shift, I was in the back stockroom going over inventory.

“Hey boss,” came a voice up from at the bar. Beth, one of my bartenders, walked into the stockroom.

“What’s up?”

“Your girlfriend just called. She—”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I snapped, interrupting her abruptly. My stomach lurched at the word she used.

Beth looked affronted by my outburst. “Oh. I …Well …”

My expression softened as soon as I realized how rude I had just behaved with my employee. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” I took a deep breath. “But just so we’re clear, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

There was a confused looked on Beth’s face. “So … that girl, Alexis … she’s just a friend?” There was an emphasis in her voice when she said “friend” because she knew quite well what I did with most girls I called a friend.

“Yes, she’s a friend, and a neighbor.” I felt uneasy by my own words, but I blushed the feeling aside before it could fester.

“Sorry, I didn’t know. You seemed to be spending a lot of time with her lately, and I haven’t seen you flirt with any girls or take any home with you at night after we close up the bar, so I just thought that she was …” Her voice trailed off and I knew what she had wanted to say.

“Hey, I gotta get going,” I interjected before she could say anything else. “It’s a slow afternoon, so can you take care of the bar?”

“Not a problem, boss.”

“Thanks.” She gave me a worried look but didn’t say anything else as she watched me quickly bolt out of the bar.

I went straight up to my apartment. I wasn’t sure why but I felt panicked and cornered with no way out. I sunk down beside the side of my bed and found it difficult to breathe.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did Beth’s comment throw me into a frenzy?

Alexis and I were just fuck buddies. This was what I have been telling myself repeatedly for the past two months. There was no way she was my girlfriend because I didn’t do girlfriends.

So why am I so annoyed over Beth’s misplaced comment?

As if to my answer my question, something Beth had said echoed in my mind. “
…I haven’t seen you flirt with any girls or take any home with you at night after we close up the bar…
”

I realized that she was right. Ever since the night I took Alexis out to Swan’s Oyster Depo, I hadn’t slept with any other girl. Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure why this thought hadn’t crossed my mind until now. I used to sleep with several different girls every week, and never the same ones the next week.

How did I go through two months of just having sex with one person? Why am I affected by her this way?

I drew in several slow deep breaths to calm myself. Then I saw something from the corner of my eyes: my black shoe box.

I need to fix this, and fast!

I opened the shoe box and a crumpled piece of paper sitting on the top of the heap of papers caught my eye. I grabbed it and saw that I had written “Redhead - 9” on it. I read the note scrawled on it: