Misha laughs. “Yeah, the guards would fucking love that. You’re supposed to be with us, remember? You left with us. You have to come home with us. Plus, you shouldn’t be alone with him.”
“Oh come on,” I say, working hard to keep my voice light. “He’s Max’s cousin.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Sitka. He’s a guy. Period. And you’re not to be alone with him.”
Damien leans in to gently kiss my forehead. I’m not sure if he can hear my brother, but he can see how upset I’m getting, and I lean into him, taking the comfort he’s so freely offering.
“Misha, relax. He got me out of there, and he’s been a perfect gentleman. He even beat the shit out of some guy who tried to grab me.”
“Someone tried to grab you?” he asks, and I can tell by his tone that he’s pissed and that I need to backtrack because the last thing I want is him showing up here still thirsty for blood.
“It’s fine. Like I said, Damien beat the shit out of him and got me out of there.”
After a few seconds, he says, “We’re on our way,” and then hangs up.
I look up at Damien. “You see what we’re dealing with here?”
“I’m not worried,” he says, looking calm enough for me to think that he really has no clue what my family is like. As if he can read my mind, he cups my face and leans in close. “I know what your dad and brothers are like, and I’m not scared of them. Let’s just focus on us, okay?”
His thumbs graze my skin, making it so very easy to nod and say, “Okay.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Good. We keep it secret. For now. Keep sending me messages, though. I like hearing your voice.”
“I like hearing your voice too,” I tell him.
Bringing his lips close to mine, he whispers, “Kiss me goodbye,besyonok.”
His words pull a hungry whimper from my throat as I close the distance and kiss him like I’ll never be able to get enough. Kissing Damien is exactly what I hoped it would be. He’s tender, like he’s savoring the taste of me, but there’s a hunger beneath the gentleness that spikes my heart rate and makes an intense ache settle deep in my core.
Strong hands cup the back of my head and ass, locking me in place while the thick, hard length of him digs into my thigh. I shift my hips, wanting to feel that pressure between my legs, andwhen I rock into him, he groans and kisses me harder, giving me a glimpse of what he would be like if he let himself go and ignored all the restraints he thinks he needs to put on himself.
I promise myself that one day I’ll find out.
When he pulls back, we’re both breathless and wanting so much more. I waited so long for my first kiss, but instead of satisfying me, it’s just made me even hungrier. I want so much more from him.
“How am I supposed to just walk away and pretend this meant nothing?” I ask.
“I’m asking myself the same question.” He brushes my hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear before dragging his fingers along my jaw. “I can force myself to do it because you’re worth it. I want to get to know you, to spend more time with you, and if I show how much you already mean to me, then it’ll make it a lot harder for us to do that.”
He kisses the brow I’m furrowing and says, “Harder, not impossible. I’m not letting you go, Sitka, not even if your brothers show up and find us just like this.”
That thought is like a bucket of cold water, and when I try to take a step back, he kisses me once more before letting me go.
We both turn our heads at the distant sound of an engine. I know it’s Misha’s truck and that they’ll be here in seconds, but I don’t want to leave and I can’t force my feet to move.
He reaches out to stroke my cheek when he says, “Don’t believe the act I’m about to put on, Sitka. Promise me you won’t doubt what happened tonight.”
“I promise I won’t, but you better not either. I expect a ton of voice messages. I’ll figure out a way to see you again, and when I do, I want a lot more than a kiss.”
He gives me a full smile that’s so stunning I forget all about my brothers and step closer so I can press my hand against the huge bulge that’s still straining against his jeans.
“Fuck,” he groans, slamming his hand on top of mine and pressing harder while he rocks into our touch. “You are a wicked little thing,” he groans, but there’s no anger in his voice, only a deep yearning that we’re both feeling.
Headlights cut through the trees, and I quickly step back in case they can see us. While I walk over to his bike, Damien turns his back and mutters, “This might clue them in on how I feel,” before he readjusts himself and pulls his hoodie down as much as possible.
I laugh and grab the gear I left near his bike. “Don’t worry. I’m just as miserable, but my pain isn’t quite as obvious.”
“At least I’m not the only one,” he says, walking back to me. Before he gets on his bike, he discreetly cups my ass, giving it a firm squeeze that makes me want to arch into his hand even though it also reminds me I’m not fully over the sunburn. That flicker of pain isn’t doing shit to make it any less erotic. If anything, it’s just heightening it. I’m not sure if that’s normal, and there’s no time to ask, so I ignore it for now and get on the bike behind him.
