And there was perplexed look. The one with the little “V” of confusion in the middle of her forehead. He loved that one. Jumping up, he crossed the room and popped a kiss on it before it disappeared.
His girl blinked up at him up at him as he took her hands in his, brought them to his mouth, and went to work making his case for make up sex. “We had a fight.”
“We did?” One brow popped up at him, perplexed turning skeptical. He loved that as well.
“Mm-hmm.” He affirmed over fleeting kisses across the knuckles of her right hand. “And we made up.”
“You think?” Skeptic with a healthy dose of ‘You’re up to something.’
Right then, Damien decided that look was his favorite. “I do.” He brought up her left hand and gave it equal attention. “Make up sex is called for.”
And he got the “I know what you’re doing” look. Maybe that was his favorite. “You just want to have sex.”
“Guilty.” He confessed with what he knew had to be a cheezy-as-all-hell, mile-wide grin.
His girl smiled at him.
Ah now, that was his favorite.
“See there. You agree.” He said and scooped her up in his arms. Her arms went around his neck. He reveled in the touch of her fingers under his collar. Pausing at the closed door, “Could you?”
One hand left his neck, as she opened th door for him. voice dry and brow raised when she said, “You’re pretty good at this sweeping off the feet schtick.”
“Thank you. I try.”
Andie was sgoing mad.
When they entered the bedroom, Damien had wasted no time divesting them both of clothing, but then any sense of urgency ended. The man had set his mind to slowly driving her to the brink of sanity. She lay beneath him, his fleeting, almost touches, light as air kisses, and gentle rasps of teeth and tongue to every inch of her body turning her into a wild creature of burning need.
At her pleading, he gently chided patience. Her grasping hands placed by her head when she tried to pull him closer. Hushed pleas to let him taste and touch delivered with such reverence she couldn’ even think of denying him. The sweet torture went on and on until was gripping the sheets, writhing in bliss until, with a sharp nip of teeth to her clit, he sent her shuddering body into explosions of pleasure.
Her body was still throbbing when he thrust inside, mercilessly driving her higher while gazing at her with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. Their groans mingled, their mouths meeting in breathless kisses as he filled her with thrusts so deep she felt as if he touched her – body, heart, and mind. When he came, bathing her with heat, she shattered yet again, and she knew her reasons for denying her love for this man were nothing more than white noise. Her fate was already sealed.
Morning came way too early. Andie blinked awake to the sound of urgent rapping on wood. The door. Right. She was in The master bedroom with a Demi-God wrapped around her.
He stirred. Mumbled cursing under his breath and a terse and gravelly, “What?”
“Sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re… uh, needed downstairs.”
Andie threw the covers off her head. “Did Barker just say “uh?”
Damien sat up. “I believe he did. I’ll be right down.”
“Very good, sir.”
And that was unmistakably, relief. Andie eyed the door, “Okay, now I’m terrified.”
Damien was already out of bed and pulling on sweats, “Saty here.” He said pulling on his shirt as he left the room.
The snort that left Andie was so epic it deserved its own prologue. Terrified she might be, but her curiosity was greater. She grabbed the sweats and T of last night off the floor and shoved them on, tripping only once before gathering the waistband in her hand and racing down the hallway.
She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the screaming. Picking up her pace, she nearly collided into Damien who had stopped short at the bottom of the stairs next to Barker . She could see why they were reluctant to go any further. There was some wild stuff going on in the terrifying living room.
Sara was there with Sophie, along with another woman she’d never seen, but looked kind of familiar, and Lena McGovern of all people. The four of them were clustered together, behind the sofa, and well out of the line of fire.
Oh boy. Layla had finally gone over to the dark side.
The She-Devil had taken over. It was stomping, screeching, and waving a something…. papers maybe…over her head.
“What the hell language is that?” Lena McGovern asked.
She, Damien, and Barker answered, “Pygmy.”
Lena’s dark brows flew up, “Really. Wow. That’s uh… something. Oh hey, Andie, right? Good to see ya up and about. We’re just here to get Sara.” Lena said sidling over to Andie she leaned in and whispered, “I’ve got some stuff in the car that’ll have her out in seconds.”
Andie was still processing the ramifications of that revelation, when from the other side of the staircase, “That is a fabulous idea.”
“What?” Jose came around the staircase, small pretty porcelain cup in hand, “She obviously needs some down time.”
“I’ll say.” Lena said, “Whoever pissed that girl off better already be running.”
“Uh honey, there’s coffee.” Jose held up the pretty steaming cup.
Layla didn’t so much as blink his way. Probably couldn’t hear him over all her screeching.
It didn’t go to waste though. Lena grabbed the cup out of Jose’s hand and chugged draining it in one go. “Holy shit, that’s good coffee. Teeny little cup though.”
Jose ran off, no doubt to get another cup. Andie had her doubts about that course of action. Caffiene was not something that Layla needed at the moment.
“Layla Delsi Markham!,” Andie shouted all three names in the hopes that it would get through, “What is going on?”
It worked somewhat. Layla switched to English. “What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. I’ve been served!” She shook the papers she clutched in her hand, “Swear to God, I’m going to kill that bitch seven times over.”
“Served with what, exactly?” Damien asked.
“A fucking subpeana.” Layla stomped over and shoved the paper into his chest, “That murderous bitch is suing me.”
“Which bitch?” Andie asked, but she already knew.
“Miss Chaylene the-bitch-about-to-die-screaming Abbingdon.”
“Oh, that’s bad.” Andie said, voice shaky and knees weak. This could put her friend over the edge. Into what exactly, she didn’t know, but it would not be good.
“Oh yes,” Layla stomped around the room snarling and waving the subpoena around like a battle flag, “Bitch says she suffered a concussion and was traumatized. They want damages. Damages? I’ll give that bitch damages.”
“But she was going to kill me.” Andie said, “She had a gun.”
“No, she didn’t,” Jose said, bearing another cup full of coffee which Lena promptly exchanged for the one she’d drained. “She was already disarmed when Layla knocked her out and hog-tied her.”
The She-devil snarled.
Andie shoved Jose behind her, “Do you want to die today?”
Lena stopped gulping, “Hogtied? Impressive.”
“Uh hi,” The woman she didn’t know came over, “We haven’t met. I’m Colleen Shale, Damien’s sister.”
The bombshell dropped and exploded into the room with varying results.
Andie’s only response was a “Huh?” Not the best, but there was only so much a proper upbringing could do. She did manage not to gape while staring speechless at the perfectly nice woman holding her hand out.
But Jose, if her friend ever went to Vegas, he’d lose his house. Eyes wide as dinner plates, he slapped a hand over his mouth and beat the band around the room with his, “Oh My Gods”.
The She Devil stopped shrieking to shout, “OH. MY. GOD. Holy crap. You’re Callie.
“They used to call me that, yes.” The perfectly polite Colleen said.
And that took the steam right out of the She devil.
“Holy shit! I gotta sit down.” Layla fell into one of those lovely silver chairs. “Is there coffee?”