Damian

by Jessica Wood

  When he came back, he leaned against the bar towards me, his face only inches away. “So are you interested in a Damian style shot?” There was a twinkle in his deep blue eyes, and I found it difficult to think.

  “A what?” I finally asked.

  He chuckled. “Well, that’s what you claimed you didn’t see earlier. You can order whatever shot you want. When you make it Damian style, you can take the shot off of the body of the bartender you ordered it from.”

  “Oh,” I said as I realized what the redhead was doing with him earlier. But that doesn’t explain the make-out session or her hands down his pants, a faint voice of reason said inside me.

  He saw the understanding in my eyes and laughed. “That’s what that redhead got earlier. It’s all a part of the Damian’s marketing package,” he said proudly.

  Why is he explaining this to me?

  “So do you want to try it?” he asked and looked at me hopefully.

  “I…” I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew that the normal thing to do—the safe thing to do—would be to turn around and leave. And yet, every fiber of my body urged me to stay, to do what he’d said, to do anything to be close with him just a little longer.

  And in the end, rational thought lost out to the uncontrollable desire to be near him. I felt myself glued to the barstool as he bored his intense blue eyes into me. He crooked his head slightly, as if he were studying me, as if I were some puzzle he was trying to figure out. I wondered desperately what he was thinking. What I would have given to know what that crook of the neck meant, what that sideways smile twisted on his lips meant, and what his offer meant.

  “Just say yes,” he whispered, and for a brief moment, I saw the same warm blue eyes I had seen that other night when we were alone together.

  I nodded slowly, unable to speak.

  “Perfect. So what kind of shot would you like?” he asked. There was a renewed excitement in his voice, and I felt a wave a pleasure knowing that it was I who had caused that excitement.

  “Uh, a tequila shot?” I suggested, unable to think of anything else with him staring at me so intensely.

  “And where’d you like to take the shot?”

  I looked at him in confusion. What does he mean, where? I’m not planning on moving to a table or anything.

  Then I realized what he really meant: where on his body would I like to take the shot from.

  “Um…I don’t know,” I said. I felt my face grow hot. I knew that I’d been trying to be more adventurous when I moved to this city, but this was not what I’d had in mind.

  “Well typically with the Damian Special, you can do the shot from anywhere on the body, but the alcohol stays in the shot glass and the pants for the male bartenders and the tank tops and skirts for the female bartenders stay on the whole time.” He paused and looked at me.

  My breath caught as I saw the intensity in his piercing blue eyes. They were like the bluest of waters, the deepest of oceans, and I felt myself drowning in them.

  “But with you,” he continued, “because you’re my neighbor, so you’re special, you can do the shot anywhere on me.” He licked his lips as his eyes drilled into me. He watched me and I felt like he was looking through me—not through me like he didn’t see me, but through me like he could see everything about me. I felt completely naked and exposed.

  Normally, I would have felt nervous and self-conscious with this kind of forwardness, but tonight, liquid courage had empowered me and removed the nerves. What remained was a pure, unadulterated need for this beautiful man in front of me. As blood coursed faster through me, I realized that I’d never wanted someone more than I wanted this man.

  “So what would you like to do?” Damian asked, breaking through my thoughts.

  I gave him a confident smile and licked my lips. “Surprise me,” I challenged.

  He laughed. “Are you sure? Because you’re playing with fire when you let someone like me surprise you.” He gave me a devious smile and I felt all my blood rush down towards my inner thighs.

  I looked at him and returned a devious smile of my own. “I like playing with fire,” I said defiantly. I was surprised by my own brazen confidence and aggressiveness. Where did that come from?

  “I like this new Alexis.” There was a rasp in his voice that made me wonder if he wanted me as much as I wanted him right now. It also sent a thrill of glee through me when I heard him say my name.

  What a fucking liar. He did remember!

  “So you sure you’ll go through with this?” he asked, challenging me to say no.

  “As sure as you’re cocky.” I gave him a triumphant smile, daring him to call my bluff.

  He laughed and gave me a wink. He cleared the bar area in front of us. Then, in one swift movement, he removed his t-shirt, revealing his rock-hard eight-pack abs and the elaborate dragon tattoo across his chest.

  I gasped in surprise and took in his delicious body in awe. Apparently, all the girls near the bar felt the same way because a series of whistles and screams erupted and I saw more than a dozen girls inch closer towards us.

  I looked back at Damian and he raised his eyebrows and smiled. “I told you you’re playing with fire.”

  “Bring it on,” I dared him. I was never someone who wanted to be in the center of attention, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I knew whatever Damian was going to do next would excite me and I didn’t care who else was around to watch.

  “You’ve been warned,” he said with a wink. Before I could respond, he positioned his whole body along the length the bar so that he was laying down on the bar counter. “Come closer,” he said, motioning me towards him.

  As I moved up against him, my eyes traced down his pecs and abs, and I felt a surge of nervous excitement rush through me. He had the most amazing body I’d ever seen, and it took all my willpower to stop myself from running my hands down his chest.

  “Now, lick my pecs,” he ordered.

  “What?” I was shocked by his request.

  “Hey, I’m the fire, and you’re playing with it,” he teased and laughed. “You need to wet a surface for the salt to stick to.”

  “Oh.” I was starting to wonder if I was getting myself in too deep here. But I refused to let him win. I leaned down towards his chest, and I could smell the intoxicating mixture of his cologne and sweat against his bronze skin. I looked up at him and he was watching me with lust-filled eyes. I licked his toned pec and felt my tongue graze the tip of his nipple, which instantly hardened at my touch. I heard a primal groan escape Damian’s lips, and I smiled inside knowing that I could affect him in this way.

  “Now sprinkle some of salt in that area,” he said hoarsely.

  I obeyed.

  “Great. Now, do you know how to take a tequila shot?”

  “Of course I do,” I said defensively.

  “Well, just in case, let me walk you through it.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. But deep down, I was grateful that he was giving me some directions. I didn’t want to look like an idiot, especially when I had to do the shot off of his body.

  “So, to do a tequila shot, you lick the salt first, then you drink—or in your case, slurp”—he smirked and gave me a wink—“all the tequila, and then you finish it off by biting the wedge of lime as a chaser. Got it?” He looked at me and I saw the excitement in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Ready?” he asked, his lips twisting into a devious smile.

  “Sure,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

  I watched him as he took a wedge of lime and held it in between the opening of his mouth. Then he placed the shot of tequila between his pecs and started pouring it down his abs, letting the liquid collect in a shallow reservoir in his lower abs. He looked over at me expectantly.

  I inhaled deeply and felt my heart pound violently against my chest. I’m going to do this, I told myself reassuringly.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned down over Damian and
licked off the salt from his pec—this time, his nipple was already rock hard. Then I moved down to his abs and began to suck the tequila from them. The bitter tequila tasted almost sweet on him as my tongue and lips sucked the area dry. Before I realized what I was doing, I began to glide my tongue up the ridges of his abs and up between his pecs, following the trail the tequila had left when Damian had poured it down his chest. I heard a deep groan escape his mouth as my tongue licked up every remnant of the tequila from his body. Then I moved up to his face and our eyes locked onto one another’s. I saw the clear lust in his eyes, and I knew he was just as turned on by this as I was, which further stirred my own desire for him that was seething inside me.

  Empowered by a new sense of boldness, I sucked the lime from his mouth, spat it out to the side, and immersed my lips with his. His hand gripped the nape of my neck as he kissed me back, his tongue eagerly entering my parted lips. His lips were soft and rough at the same time, and I felt myself melt into his kiss.

  When our lips finally parted, he looked up at me, his eyes no longer filled with lust, but something warmer, sweeter.

  “Now that’s a shot Damian Style,” he said with a sexy smile.

  “That was amazing,” I admitted.

  “That one was on the house,” he said with a meaningful look in his eyes.

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling a bit awkward that I had just thanked him for the kiss.

  “I know how you can repay me though,” he continued.

  “Wait, I thought you said it was on the house,” I teased. But at that point, I was so far down the Damian rabbit hole that I wasn’t sure what I wouldn’t agree to doing if he asked.

  He laughed. “Let me take you out next Friday night?” The warmth in his blue eyes returned as he gave me another heartbreaking smile.

  “Like a date?” I asked.

  He flinched slightly at my question, and I wondered if I had misunderstood what had just happened between us.

  But as soon as I was about to correct myself, his smile returned. “Yeah, I guess you can say it’s a date.”

  I cocked my head and looked at him. Did he just ask me out on a date? I was about to say that I thought he wasn’t the dating type but stopped myself. Something told me that that would have been the last thing he wanted to hear right now.

  “Okay,” I said with a smile. “That would be fun.” I knew I was entering dangerous territory. I knew I was playing with fire here. But Kelly’s words rang in my ears. See what happens. So against my better judgment, I was going to see what would happen next.

  Besides, with a kiss like that, I knew I wanted more of it. I was addicted.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Damian

  IT WAS A LITTLE PAST 2:45 A.M. WHEN I locked up Damian’s and walked up the stairs to my apartment. Tonight, I didn’t take a girl home with me to fuck. And for some reason, that didn’t bother me. I walked through my front door feeling great. I threw my keys on the coffee table and began to empty my pockets.

  Wallet.

  Phone.

  A few coins.

  A crumpled piece of paper.

  I had completely forgotten that the paper was in my pocket. It was the paper the redhead had slipped me. I uncrumpled it and read its contents.

  You know it felt good in my hands, but it’ll feel amazing in my pussy. Call me 415-888-6914. XX - Courtney.

  I smirked as I saw the note. I had to hand it to the redhead. She was pretty full of herself—and maybe as cocky as I was.

  I grabbed a pen from my desk and wrote “Redhead - 9” on the paper. I pulled a black shoebox from under my bed and threw the piece of paper inside, where it joined hundreds of other pieces of paper with numbers on them. This was my normal routine when I got in from the bar, and my black shoebox was my version of the “little black book.”

  As I pushed the shoebox back under my bed, I felt triumphant about tonight. I wasn’t too sure why I felt like I was on top of the world, but I did. And for some reason, it wasn’t the same triumphant feeling I had normally when I brought home a hot piece of ass to fuck—I hadn’t even invited a girl home with me tonight.

  And yet, I felt more triumphant tonight than I had for as long as I could remember.

  Maybe it’s because of the redhead, I thought. We had a pretty hot make-out session and she had given me a pretty amazing hand job in public, a $100 tip, and her number.

  And yet, for some reason, a part of me didn’t think that the redhead’s number, the hand job, or the big tip were what made me feel triumphant.

  Could it have something to do with seeing Alexis?

  I thought back to the moment I had seen her for the first time tonight. I wasn’t sure why, but it had almost been as if a fog had lifted when our eyes met. I’d been shocked to see her at first—caught off guard that she had seen me making out with another girl. But when the shock had quickly worn off, another feeling had crept its way in. It had been a feeling I wasn’t as familiar with. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what it was. What I was sure of was that it had felt good. Really good. Better-than-climax good.

  That unfamiliar new feeling had scared me. Plus, I’d reminded myself of what happened the last time I had seen Alexis. I’d reminded myself of the fact that she had rejected my advances and had actually said no to the one and only Damian Castillo. That memory angered me, and I had known that I had to show her what she was missing out on, what every other girl wanted, and what she had stupidly passed over.

  So I’d done what anyone in my position would have done: I’d pretended like I hadn’t remembered her when I saw her. I’d wanted to hide any signs that she had affected me in any way. I’d wanted to pretend like I was too busy with another girl. And to my luck, the hot redhead had been conveniently available and was more than willing to flirt with me and unknowingly take part in my charade. In fact, the redhead had been so into me that she’d been clearly close to banging me on the bar counter if I hadn’t stopped her.

  But after I saw Alexis, I couldn’t get her out of my mind and I had lost all interest in the redhead. So after a few minutes of my charade with her, I had gotten bored. Luckily the redhead had gotten the hint and left without being asked to leave. Some girls were not always as bright.

  Then to my surprise, Alexis had come over to order a drink from me. The moment we started talking, I knew I wanted to be alone with her again. I knew she would be my ultimate conquest—to fuck the first single girl to turn down my advances. And so when she'd agreed to try a shot Damian Style, I knew I didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity. I knew she was interested and I was tired of playing this cat and mouse game with her. I wanted her, and I was going to take thing into my own hands and make things happen.

  I thought back to her body shot off of my chest and my cock stiffened at the memory. Her velvety tongue across my nipple and up my abs. Her full, luscious lips pressed onto mine as my tongue explored her. The honey-sweet taste of her lips, the titillating smell of her hair, and her silky soft skin against my callused hands had all instantly turned me on. My cock had become painfully hard as it had pushed outward against my jeans, and at that moment, I had wanted to rip off her clothes and pound into her right there and then on top of that bar counter in front of all those people.

  But before I’d been able act on my desire, she had pulled away from our kiss, leaving me wanting more of what I had just felt during that kiss. I had no idea what exactly it was that I had felt. But I knew that, whatever that was, I was addicted to it and I would have given anything to feel it again.

  That was when I’d decided that I wanted to take her out so I could spend some alone time with her. To me, it wasn’t a date. To me, we were just going to hang out, maybe fuck at the end of the night—if she was lucky. But I knew if I’d told her that, I’d never see her again, and for some reason, I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to have her, and I couldn’t let her go without tasting her for myself. And taking her out on Friday on a “date” would give me my opportunity with h
er.

  But why am I even making such an effort with her?

  As hard as I thought about this question, I didn’t have an answer for it.

  And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I felt uncomfortable with how much she was getting to me. For Christ’s sakes, I’m Damian fucking Castillo. Uncomfortable is not my in my DNA.

  I shook my head and brushed the conflicting thoughts from my mind. I’m just tired. I’m overthinking all of this because I need sleep. This has nothing to do with Alexis. She’s just another pretty face, I told myself.

  I stripped off my clothes and sank naked into the cool satin sheets. As I rubbed my hand down my abs, I thought about how her tongue had moved up these abs just hours before. My cock responded, as if to confirm what I was just thinking: everything about this girl turned me on. I moved my hand up and down the length of my cock as I recalled the taste of her lips on mine. Everything about her tasted sweeter and more tantalizing than anything my mouth had ever touched. Within seconds, my breathing grew ragged as my hand moved faster and more violently along the length of my hardness and I imagined Alexis’s lips up and down my cock. I knew that I wanted more than anything to feel myself deep inside of her. And as I became consumed with images of me deep inside her wet, satin sweetness, I felt my body spasm out of control. Seconds later, I climaxed as I imagined pulling of out of her pussy and coming onto her beautiful face as her full lips opened to greet my cum.

  After I cleaned up and started to nod off to sleep, I reminded myself of one thing: whatever will happen with Alexis didn’t change a thing. After our date next Friday, she would just be another hot piece of ass I’d fucked good and hard, and once I got my fun out of her, it was on to the next.

  Yes, that’s all she is to me: a hot piece of ass.

  ***

  A few days had passed since that night I had seen Alexis again, and I had been feeling frustrated and on edge ever since that night. I realized that I hadn’t gotten laid since then. I had found myself thinking about her constantly while not having sex at all. I had first told myself that I was tired, that I was busy, that none of the girls that had recently approached me were hot enough to make the effort.