I get another eye roll. This time it’s far from subtle and it’s followed by a shake of his head. He lifts his wine glass to his mouth. “How’d you know I like this wine?”
“You mentioned it in an interview in 2019. You said it was one of the best things you’d ever had in your mouth.” He smiles sweetly and bats his eyelashes. “Just so you know, I usually judge people who spend this much on a bottle of wine. I judge them harshly, so you damn well better enjoy it. If I see so much as ahintof dissatisfaction on your face, I’m going to put you over my knee and spank the shit out of you right here and now.”
His mouth drops open in faux horror, “But, but what about Mavis?”
I shrug and give him what I hope is my most winning smile. “Mavis can watch.”
He tries not to give me the satisfaction of a laugh, but his eyes dance in amusement and something more. He tilts his glass to his lips. He breathes in the aroma, takes a long sip and swishes it round in his mouth thoughtfully. He’s still for a moment, pausing dramatically. My palm twitches. So does my dick. At last, he swallows with a faint smile and a soft, reluctant, “Mm.”
I put my feet on either side of his under the table and give a firm squeeze.
“Just so we’re clear,” I say, “I haven’t changed. I’m the same person I’ve always been. The only thing that’s changed is what I want.”
“Trying to get off on a technicality, are you?” I scoff, but nod in agreement. “I’ll allow it.”
“I’m still a bad man, Damon.”
“I know. It’s fine. Truth be told, I’m not all that great either.”
We finish our meal in near silence. The mood is charged. I have to hand it to him, his playlist is romantic as hell. The longer it plays, the more Damon appears to be glowing. Light reflects off his features, highlighting streaks of platinum in his hair and bouncing off the angles of his cheekbones and jawline, blinding me in the process. The longer I look at him, the less I understand why he’s glowing like that. Like he’s unreal. I no longer know if he’s glowing from the candlelight, or from the joy of knowing he’s well within his rights to say, “I told you so,” or if it’s simply because of the fact he’s made up of nothing but the blackest of black magic.
Most likely, it’s a combination of all three.
“So, what’s next?” he pushes his plate forward and wipes his hands, folding the napkin carefully before placing it on the table.
I get to my feet and push my chair in. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think you may have said something about fucking like Gods.”
He walks around, so he’s on my side of the table and he’s standing so close I get a whiff of rich boy hair subltley variegated with everything I’ve ever wanted. “Been thinking about that, have you?”
“No, not really,” I say honestly.
A perfect eyebrow arches up. “What have you been thinking of then?”
I pull him close. So close, I can’t see his face and he can’t see mine. I press my lips to his temple. His pulse is erratic. His skin is smooth and warm. “Been thinking of the way your eyes looked when you left.” His breath catches, but he doesn’t move. “Don’t ever look at me like that again, Demon. I mean it. Don’t do it, okay?”
It’s a whisper. A plea.
He pulls away and looks up at me. His eyes are pale. Clear. The calm before a storm. “Don’t make me.”
Chapter 33
Demon
“Toldyou you should have taken Second. Third is a mess at this time of day.”
He keeps his eyes on the road and his hands at ten and two on the wheel. He tries not to react but the muscle in his jaw clenches, and that fills me with unbridled joy.
He pulls into the garage under my building and stops at the security boom.
“You need a pass to get in,” I say. “Just give me a sec, I have one in my wallet.”
He smiles at me like I’m pretty, but not all that bright. “Don’t worry, I've got it.”
He pulls down his sun visor and whips out a key card, swipes it, waits patiently as the boom raises and drives in with the effortless confidence of a man who’s done this many, many times in the past.
It shouldn’t be hot.
But it is.
