Keeping 6 (Rock Point Book 1)

by Freya Barker

  “Of course,” I automatically reply, waving a dismissive hand.

  Instead of marching her through the entire length of the restaurant and out the door, he leads her to the back passage to the hotel lobby. A much shorter walk, but long enough to draw even more attention, especially with Cora voicing her displeasure rather loudly. I try to make myself as small as possible, in the far corner of the booth, to avoid the curious and pitying looks being fired in my direction. I focus on Clive, who throws me a wink and does his best to cover the collective hush that has fallen over the restaurant with some lively tunes.

  The minutes crawl by as little, nagging doubts start eating away at my earlier confidence. A vivid imagination is my downfall, as I can’t seem to stop visualizing the picture Cora painted with her words. It describes a side of Damian I haven’t seen yet. Is he holding back? The thoughts start bouncing around my mind, and the comfortable fullness of my stomach just minutes ago starts churning with nausea.

  Jealousy. Such an ugly and uncontrollable emotion.

  By the time Damian slides into the booth across from me, my eyes have been focused on a spot on the wall while insecurity has gradually taken over. I even considered leaving, but the last vestiges of common sense had me stay right here, where I was relatively safe in the public eye.

  “Gypsy?” I turn my eyes to him at the sound of his voice. I’m not sure what he sees in mine, but he’s out of his seat again in a flash. Taking his wallet from his pocket, he tosses some bills on the table. “Let’s go,” he says, helping me out of the booth and pulling me tight to his body, his arm protectively over my shoulder. I keep my eyes focused on the floor in front of me until I feel fresh air hit my cheeks.

  DAMIAN

  The drive home is relatively quiet. Mostly because every time I start to apologize, she plasters on a smile and tells me she’s fine. Deadly words, those—I’m fine. Especially since it doesn’t take much to know she’s anything but fine.

  That was an ugly-ass scene back there, and I’m pissed as hell that what was a great night, and shaping up to become phenomenal, came crashing down around my ears when that bitch showed up.

  Son-of-a-fucking-bitch. I’ve never come so close to clocking a woman, but more than once I had my hand already fisted during that encounter. The way she insulted and embarrassed Kerry had me furious, which is why I marched her out. She hadn’t liked that, but just as quickly she turned back to her seduction when we hit the hotel lobby. Her hands slipping inside my jacket, her boobs pressing against me—it took every effort not to toss her on her ass. I am angry at myself because not that long ago, that whole scene might’ve had a much different outcome—and that’s all on me. I took my time to make sure Cora understood exactly where I stood. Still, it took me telling her how deadly serious my involvement with Kerry was before she listened. And that ticked me off, too, that I was forced to take words I hadn’t even spoken aloud to the woman who deserved them, to warn the bitch off.

  I played fast and loose long enough, without much concern who I was playing with, and I probably deserved every bit of what happened.

  But Kerry doesn’t.

  “Talk to me,” I try again, my hand searching hers. “And don’t tell me you’re fine. Just tell me what’s going through your head. I hate that she had an opportunity to spew her vindictive words before I got her out of there. I hate that she got her claws in—”

  “She didn’t,” Kerry interrupts, turning toward me for the first time since we started driving. “I just...it threw me, that’s all.”

  I can’t focus my attention when I’m driving, so I pull off into the James Farm parking lot. Turning off the engine, I turn and face her. “Bullshit.” I watch her flinch at that, but before she has a chance to turn her head away, I put my hands on her neck, keeping her jaw in place with my thumbs. “Babe, I can see the questions swimming in your eyes. Spit it out. Whatever it is, just get it out.”

  “It’s not bullshit,” she argues. “And I was fine...but then you took a while, and I started thinking: What if he gets bored with me? I don’t know. I’m pretty sure you have a lot more adventurous experience to draw from than I do. I honestly don’t even want to think about that, but her description of what you apparently like was pretty damn vivid. Truthfully? I could’ve done without that.”

  “Okay, a few things,” I interrupt her almost-breathless flow of words. “My so-called experience is probably not half as adventurous as she made you think. Her view of things is generally self-serving and far from the truth.” I rest my forehead against hers. Her beautiful, gray eyes blink furiously in an attempt to hold the tears at bay and still one or two escape. I wipe them away with the pads of my thumbs. “I’m sorry I left you alone,” I continue in a softer voice. “I had to make it clear to her, once and for all, that the reality of her never was a match to the dream of you.” A little hitch in her breathing, and her hands coming up to clutch at my wrists, gives me hope I’m getting through. “As for getting bored with you? The likelihood of that happening doesn’t exist, so get that out of your head right now. There is so much of you still to discover, so much I’d like to discover with you.”

  Her eyes close and I press a soft kiss on her mouth.

  “I’d like to get you home now and get started on that,” I mumble as my lips skirt along her jaw and to her neck.

  “Mmmmm,” she hums. “I think I might like that.”

  A second later, tires spinning, we’re back on the road, racing toward home.

  The moment I turn off the engine, we are both scrambling to get out. Kerry is already halfway to the front door when I round the Expedition. I jog to catch up with her and scoop her up in my arms.

  “Damian!” she scolds, but she’s giggling as she does it. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she holds on tight as I carry her to the door, which opens just as I’m trying to figure out how to get to my keys with my hands full of woman.

  “I thought I heard something,” Bella smiles from the hallway.

  Right. Not sure how it slipped my mind that Kerry was not my only guest, but ever since I saw her coming down the stairs in that little black body sleeve, she’s all I’ve had on my mind.

  At my sister’s appearance at the door, Kerry starts wiggling to get down, but I’m determined not to let myself be distracted from my goal again.

  “Close and lock behind us, Bella,” I order over my shoulder as I walk past her into the house. “We’re turning in.”

  “Damian!” This time Kerry angrily hisses my name, her fingers knotting painfully in the small hairs of my neck. The sound of heels follows me to the stairs.

  “I should probably tell you...” Bella starts when I’m halfway upstairs.

  “Tomorrow,” I snap impatiently.

  “But...”

  “Tomorrow, Bella.”

  I’m not sure what it is she’s muttering, my focus is on the bedroom door at the end of the hall. Once I maneuver Kerry safely through, without knocking her head on the doorpost, I kick it shut behind me. Only then do I carefully let go of her legs, keeping her steady until she’s found her balance. The moment she does, her little hands shove me hard in the chest.

  “You’re an ass.” Her mouth is set in an angry line, her eyes shoot fire, and all I can think is how to get inside her in the next two seconds. “That was incredibly rude and embarrassing,” she bites off, turning her back to me, shrugging out of that floral jacket, or whatever it is, and tossing it on the chair. Then she bends over to take off her shoes.

  She’s probably right, I’m an ass and that was rude, but right now every working brain cell I have is focused on the deliciously round ass, encased in slinky black, sticking up in the air—calling to me. I don’t even think about it, I simply drop on my knees behind her, put both hands on her hips and put my teeth in one of the juicy cheeks. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I might’ve expected anger, maybe a slap, but that wasn’t enough to stop me. Obviously. But the deep groan coming from her is a surprise. A pleasant one.
>
  Encouraged, I nuzzle her backside while my hands carefully slide down to the hem of the dress, only to work their way back up, taking the material with them and uncovering only skin.

  Fuck me sideways. She’s as naked as a jaybird underneath. The ass I’m getting closely acquainted with, an absolute piece of art. The slight reddening of the pale skin where I nipped her is an invitation to match it with a similar mark on the other cheek. This time there is no fabric barrier, and I love the feel of her heated skin against my mouth. The moment my teeth press down, she groans again, this time with a slight gyration of her hips.

  KERRY

  Oh my.

  I was about to tell Damian whatever moment we’d been building up to had passed, but then he bit me. A love bite. Strong enough to feel the sting but not hard enough to hurt. Just burn. The most erotic sensation I’ve experienced.

  I don’t even think about the fact he’s behind me, at eye level with my less than perky backside, but the soft hum as he nuzzles me from behind, while pulling up my dress, has me toss any lingering insecurities out the window. This turns him on. And by God, it does me, too.

  I stay where I am, bent over and slightly shivering, when I feel the air hitting the newly exposed skin. His open mouth brushes over the other side before I feel his teeth sink in. This time my knees buckle. I slowly straighten up, not too fast, I don’t feel like doing a face-plant on the rug. Behind me, Damian licks the mark I’m sure he left, and I feel the electricity ripple over my skin all the way to the top of my head. It leaves goosebumps in its wake all over my body.

  “Turn around,” he whispers, his hands steady on my hips. I step out of my shoes and turn to him.

  He’s on his knees, still fully dressed in dark jeans and steel gray dress shirt, with his eyes nearly black as they travel slowly up my body to meet mine. Even with the dress pushed up around my waist, undoubtedly looking a little silly, he still makes me feel desired. It’s a heady feeling. There are no words needed, I can see it reflected in his eyes, on his face. I can feel it in the reverence of his touch as he unapologetically runs his fingers over every blasted dimple and imperfection on my skin. It makes me feel powerful. This man could probably kill me with his bare hands, yet he is on his knees—worshipping.

  I let my gaze roam over his features and use my hands to trace behind. My heart does a little skip when he closes his eyes and ever so slightly tilts his face into my palm. Powerful.

  This is discovery.

  No shields, no shame, no covers...completely naked, despite the remaining clothes covering us. Exposed and vulnerable, but without fear.

  This is trust.

  The need to share every flaw, every thought, every honest moment.

  This is love.

  CHAPTER 25

  Kerry

  “You can’t go in there!”

  The sound of voices approaching the bedroom door brings me fully awake.

  I woke up a while ago, still wrapped tight in Damian’s arms, and I didn’t want to open my eyes yet. Instead, I snuggled a little deeper and relived every moment of last night in minute detail. The air had been rich with arousal and emotions, even though we barely exchanged a word. The slow pace of exploration made it feel like we’d been suspended in a time void. The usual rush to completion before reality knocked simply not there last night.

  With Damian still on his knees, I’d slipped off the dress before I pulled him up by his hands. It surprised me, how easily he allowed me to undress him—let me take control. The only time I could see him struggle for control over his body was when I slowly stripped down his jeans and boxers, sinking on my haunches in front of him this time. I’d pulled off his boots so he could step out.

  I remember being mesmerized by his beautifully erect cock, only a breath away from my face and stroking my index finger along its length, tracing the engorged veins. The drop of moisture slowly sliding down its flushed crown begged to be licked. With my hands bracing the backs of his thighs, I leaned in and lapped with the flat of my tongue. His loud groan and the clench of his muscles under my palms had me press my core on the heel of my foot.

  His taste was rich on my tongue—all Damian—but when I went back for seconds, he stopped me.

  “I don’t think I can stay standing,” he whispered, stroking my hair. He took a few steps back and sank down in the wing chair, slid his butt to the edge so he could spread his legs. Wide. He groaned when I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled to him. His hands were digging into the muscles of his leg. I might’ve been the one on the ground, but I felt no less powerful than before. Reaching up, I placed my hands over his, holding them pinned as I dropped my eyes to his cock. Nestled in short, dark, graying curls, it was curved up against his stomach, darkly flooded with blood and in sharp contrast with the olive tone of his skin.

  I’d barely slid my mouth down his length when my control ended. Or maybe I should say his. Muttering expletives, he lifted me up by my armpits, turned me around and pulled me onto his lap. With his hands underneath my legs, he pulled up my knees and spread them over the armrests. I remember shivering when I felt his crown, wet from my mouth, skim across the puckered skin of my ass as I was pulled into position. He’d just growled in response, with the promise there was always more left to explore.

  He fucked me right there in the chair, my body completely spread open and at his mercy as he sharply powered his hips up, hitting every active nerve. We were so primed, it had not taken much for me to roll my head back on his shoulder and bite down on his hand that had come up to cover my cries. I was still pulsing around him when he clamped his mouth in the crook of my exposed neck as his body shook and bucked inside and around me.

  He’d carried me to the bed where we continued our explorations, finally falling asleep exhausted, but completely sated.

  Damian is still asleep, at least he was, but Bella’s voice outside the door has him stirring behind me.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, his croaked voice still heavy with sleep. He pushes his upper body off the mattress and looks down on me before casting his eye on the door. “Who is it?”

  “Not sure,” I say, staying safely under the covers as another voice joins Bella’s in a discussion outside our door.

  “Damian—Es su madre!”

  I don’t speak much Spanish, but I clearly understand that.

  “Fucking hell,” Damian swears in a low voice.

  “Watch your mouth, mi hijo!”

  Clearly not low enough for his mother. I hide further under the covers to stifle my giggles. I don’t know what seems so funny about this situation, which clearly spells disaster of massive proportions, but I seem to think it’s hilarious.

  “Stop it,” Damian hisses, pulling the sheet off my head. It doesn’t help. It only makes me laugh harder.

  “Gypsy...” he threatens, but the slight tugging at the corner of his mouth proves he’s having a hard time keeping a straight face, too. It is kind of a ridiculous situation. We’re not kids, for crying out loud.

  Outside the door, I hear Bella herd their mother back down the hall.

  This may not have been planned, and I’m pretty sure meeting his mother is not high on Damian’s list of priorities for me, but she’s here and we may as well deal with it. Resolved, I get out of bed, slip on yoga pants and a tank top, and grab last night’s kimono off the floor, tossing it on for extra coverage.

  “Babe, seriously...” Damian scrambles to get out of bed and hops on one leg as he tries to get the other into his sweats. “Hold up.”

  “Damian, really—she’s your mom. She’s just a little old lady. It doesn’t faze me.” A puzzling smirk settles on his face as he finally shrugs his shoulders and with dramatic flourish, opens the door for me.

  He follows closely behind as I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen where I can hear activity. When I round the corner, I stop in my tracks, Damian bumping into my back and chuckling. “What I was trying to tell you,” he whispers, his mouth in my hair, �
�is that my mom never travels alone.”

  “Clearly,” I choke out, taking in the kitchen full of women, all paused mid-motion and gawking at the picture I’m sure Damian and I make. Damian snickering over my shoulder as I stand with abject horror plastered on my face. Four heads turned our way. Bella seems moderately apologetic, but the other three are just blatantly curious. Two of the women are short and dark like Bella, maybe a bit older, but the third is different.

  I had envisioned this sweet, gray-haired lady, wrinkled and stooped with age. Perhaps even smaller than her youngest daughter. But nothing prepared me for the tall, statuesque woman, whose gray-haired pixie cut only enhanced her youthful appearance. She has to be at least seventy-five, if not eighty, but you would never think it, looking at her straight shoulders and clear eyes.

  Bella obviously doesn’t get her penchant for pretty things from any stranger. Before I have a chance to escape and get changed into something a little more fitting of the fashion display in Damian’s kitchen, he moves around me, grabs my hand, and tugs me toward his mother. To my surprise, she’s almost as tall as he is.

  “Mama,” he says, as he leans in to kiss her cheek. “This is a surprise.” The tone is slightly scolding as he throws his youngest sister a look. Bella just sticks out her chin. In all honesty, I vaguely recall her trying to tell him something last night. I’m guessing this surprise visit may have been it.

  “Your sister knew. She said she needed the rest of her stuff. We’re here to deliver her stuff. Left the house at six this morning and now we’re here.” The older woman’s voice is strong and firm and surprisingly holds no sign of an accent, although she did throw in some easy Spanish earlier. The moment she stops talking, her eyes come to rest on me. I feel like a bug tacked to the wall.

  “Mama,” Damian says, putting his arm securely around my shoulders, probably still fearful I will run. “This is Kerry Emerson. Kerry, this is Carmella, my mother.”