by Quinn, Candy
She took in a deep breath. It was a lot to take in; him spoiling her to a new outfit followed by him beating up another man. And then they had that dance to go to...
Should we still even go, she thought to herself before resting her head on his chest. He was comforting, even with his anger and his cuts and bruises from the few jabs the other man had gotten in.
“We should head back.”
Damien took his time, giving her a slow, firm embrace, his thick arm sliding up her back before he let her go.
“Sure thing, Brit,” he said with a forced smile, obviously troubled by the turn of events. And how she’d gotten to see him at his worst.
Chapter 10
Damien did up his shirt with his battered hands as he caught sight of her in the mirror coming out of her room. His eyes instantly moved to her, soaking her in with an entranced gaze.
“What?” she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious and tugging at the fringes of the dress. “Is it no good?” She bit down upon her lower lip, feeling so anxious about it all on top of the earlier doubts.
Damien turned and abandoned the last few buttons, leaving him half-dressed up, half exposing his sculpted, tattooed torso.
“No, you look amazing,” he said, stepping in closer to her, his gaze unable to leave her as if his eyes were glued upon her form. “I’ve not seen a real— a beautiful lady like you in so long… maybe never,” he said, the angry, tough guy of earlier melting away a little as he stared at her, transfixed. Smitten.
Heat sullied her cheeks and she had to look away. She wasn’t sure how to take him, but that sweet comment was enough to soften her heart towards him. Remember the good he had within him.
And when her eyes moved up once more, taking in his masculine form, she had to force her eyes away once again to hide her embarrassment.
She thought he was the one that really looked amazing.
“You should, ah, finish getting dressed.”
He looked down at his shirt, still dangling open, even if it was mostly tucked in.
“Oh yeah,” he said, and he reached up to do the buttons up, but he was painfully slow at it, and she soon saw why. His knuckles upon one hand were in rough shape, with more than a few nicks and cuts from the fight. The sort of thing that called for a nice cleaning, just as ma would do for her scrapes, long, long ago when she was so young.
She stared longer than she oughta, but once she decided, she was quick to move into the bathroom. She found the antiseptic and the bandages, bringing them back to his room and grabbing for his hand.
“You’d figure if you’re used to these sorta tussles, that you’d know well enough how to care for yourself.”
Damien paused his work, his shirt still not entirely done up, but near enough. Almost.
He watched her, his broad shoulders slowly relaxing as she took hold of his much larger hand in her daintier ones.
“Ain’t the way things are done among men folk,” he explained, looking at her with such fascination. And warmth. “You don’t need to be fussin’ over me though. It’s my own damn fault, not yours,” he explained gently, though it was clear he seemed to like her attentions.
Besides, she wasn’t havin’ any of that. He was tryin’ to protect her in his own way, and so it was the least she could do to look out for him too. She rubbed the cotton ball over his wounds, clearing away the dirt and leaving it fresh and raw.
“No need to punish yourself and risk gettin’ an infection just ‘cause you messed up, Damien.”
He never flinched, not even a little. Just watched her, seemin’ so relaxed with her care.
“I’m just not used to havin’ anyone tend to me like this,” he said in his deep voice. “Y’know… so caring. And tender,” he explained. And of course, she remembered, his ma died long ago too. And though Mr. Drake was a good man, he weren’t a real tender type. He was a hard, farmin’ man.
But still, it was silly to think he should just go ‘round with those types of cuts on him. She covered the last one that needed it with a Band-Aid and noticed that gleam in his eyes. The one she knew about but had never seen, not really, and it made her stomach flutter with dozens of butterflies.
“Well... there, you’re all patched up. Don’t hurt too bad, I hope?”
“Nah,” he said, smiling unevenly at her ever so slightly. “Feels better now than ever,” he added, as if her little bout of attention to his battered fist had so moved him, he was free of all pains and worries. “Not often a fella has both a date with such a beautiful gal, but her tender care to boot.”
Her thumb grazed against his hand before pulling away. She didn’t know how to date someone she’d grown up with side by side. It was more than a little scary, but at the same time, it felt almost right. Especially with how he’d changed, at least ‘round her.
“We should head over soon.”
“Sure thing,” he said at last, and finished a couple more buttons on his shirt before extending his arm to her in offering. “If the lady will be so kind as to accompany me,” he offered up that thick, bulging bicep to take, looking pleased as punch to be takin’ her to the dance.
She let her worries and fears slide away. For one night, she simply wanted to enjoy herself and not overthink everythin’. She deserved that much, just a nice night out.
Her first real date, no less.
She’d brushed her golden hair, curled the ends so that they teased the open halter top. Every so often she glanced down and couldn’t believe it was her in that sexy, feminine dress. Her heels were hard to get used to, but at the same time it put her at a better height next to him, and that made her stand even taller.
Though when she was offered the helmet, she hesitated for a second, already mournin’ the loss of her finely styled hair.
Safety first, she told herself before buckling the helmet on her head, slidin’ onto the back of his bike and wrappin’ her arms around him. It was becoming more familiar, more comfortable, every time she did it, and when his hand caressed hers briefly before he revved the engine, her entire world was blissful.
It was a lovely night, and the ride was short before they got to the dance. The farm was done up, with a big patch of the land converted into a party ground, with the barn and a great central tent all set aside for the dance. The band played in the barn itself, and all the guests went to dance beneath the canopy in front of it.
Damien pulled the bike to a halt and climbed off, helping her to her feet with a smile.
“Hope that you remember how to dance, Britney,” he said with a teasing smile, refusing to let go of her hand, rubbing his rough thumb over her smooth knuckles.
She couldn’t help but gaze about, wonder striking her mute for a few moments as she drank it all in. There was such life, such excitement in the air as lights twinkled and the beat of the music thrummed through them.
It was such a change from the usual calm and quiet of the farm, and she was gettin’ more and more excited as her heart beat excitedly.
“This is gorgeous!”
“Yeah, they really went all out,” he said, offering her his arm again, letting her hand snake around his bicep as she led her on down the trail with the other new arrivals towards the dance. Lights were strung up all around. “I’m surprised they got such a fancy lookin’ thing set up out here in farm country. Must’ve cost a pretty penny,” he said, soaking it all in… but mostly her, his eyes ever quick to return to the woman at his side.
She couldn’t help but keep lookin’ up at him neither. Lit as he was by the soft, twinkling lights, he looked even more ruggedly handsome, but with a sweet edge to it. Made him look a little less threatening and a lot more romantic.
Not that she should be thinkin’ about him like that. But she didn’t know how to turn her feelings off. They were just there, loud and impossible to forget.
“Should we... I mean, I’ve never been to somethin’ like this, so I don’t know what to do.”
He looked aside at her, raising a brow and grin
ning a little bit.
“Unless you were askin’ if we should blow all these other folks away with our dancin’, I got no idea,” he said, bee-lining right for the grassy dance-’floor’, holding her hand.
He took her there, turning and guiding her to the spot as he smiled down at her.
“If’n you don’t know how to dance, now’s the time to warn me… ‘cause I’ll handle it all,” he said with a playful wink.
Wait, he knew how to dance?!
It was one thing for him to be polite to her, but him knowin’ how to dance was somethin’ she couldn’t have even dreamed about.
“I can probably make due,” she said with a bit of a grin. Sure, dancin’ alone in her living room wasn’t bound to be the same thing, but she wasn’t going to concede defeat on that, not at all.
The music was upbeat and cheerful, and in no time Damien led her out into a dance.
He was big, bulky and broad, but none of that stopped the man from moving in time with the music, leading her in a dance as if he knew it almost as well as he knew fightin’. And each time she thought she had the measure of him, he upped the ante. He lifted her hand up over her head and spun her about before grasping her about the waist again.
“Makin’ due,” he reiterated with a grin, seeming to be enjoying himself immensely as they came together tightly for one section.
She could feel other people’s eyes burnin’ on them, watching as they danced together. She was havin’ way too much fun to be bothered by that, though, and instead she found herself nearly double over, gigglin’ as he dipped her low and then pulled her back to his chest.
He felt so warm against her, his power radiating out of him.
All those sculpted muscles put to use making him nimble on his feet, and able to move her with such effortless grace. Where other men made a show of attemptin’ to lift their ladies a half foot or so, Damien hoisted her up over his head as if he was totin’ his own feather-stuffed pillow!
“Like dancin’ with a winged angel,” he declared with a cheery grin.
She’d have brushed it off as silly flattery, but not from Damien. He’d never been the type, and instead it made her heart sing. The music came to a stop, and the band announced they’d be back in ten minutes.
“Think we can grab a drink?” she asked, her hand on her heaving chest as she still tried to catch her breath, her laughter makin’ it near impossible.
“We’d best,” he said, putting a hand on her lower back and guiding her slowly towards the refreshment stand, “I don’t want you wearin’ out on me before I get a few more hours of dancin’ in.”
Chapter 11
By the time they stumbled into the farmhouse it was late, and Britney was definitely stumblin’. Not just figuratively.
She laughed, her head a lil’ light from the spiked punch at the party, and Damien followed behind. He was cheerful and laughing too, but as always, he was a rock, keepin’ her steady with his arm about her as they entered into their old home.
“That was… the finest night I ever did have,” Damien declared brightly.
Her hair was tousled from the dancin’ and the bike, her dress a bit wrinkled, but she’d never felt better in her life. It was like all her cares and worries had just disappeared, and it was just the two of them, enjoyin’ one another.
There weren’t much better in life than that, and she clung to him a little tighter. Not just for the stability, but for the warmth and comfort of his strong body.
“I can’t believe you know how to dance.”
He chuckled deeply and ran a hand back over her hair, brushing it back and restoring some order to it as he looked down upon her.
“A man’s gotta cut loose and have some fun now and then, even in the big city,” he said with a bright grin, his hand resting upon the back of her head as his other palm came to stop upon her hip. That look of cheerful joy slowly shifting to something else. “You looked radiant out there. The finest lady in the whole dance, by far.”
“Damien,” she murmured, her face flushing a bit.
He always had a way of makin’ her feel a little shy, like she wanted to please him. He always had, even before, when he didn’t care much for her.
But now, it was easy to make him see her as somethin’ else, and she wasn’t used to gettin’ what she wanted, not with him.
His hand on her hip was firm, and she was more aware of it than ever, the way his fingers pressed into her flesh.
“You’re so different than I remember.”
“Could say the same for you, doll,” he remarked with that uneven smile of his, brushing a hand through her hair so tenderly. All that muscle and strength but he touched and held her with a delicate care not becomin’ of a man of his size. That is, until his grasp tightened at her hip, his arm goin’ around her waist and pullin’ her in tighter, showin’ how quick those thick arms could conjure up so much power.
“I thought I was bein’ a fool… havin’ the thoughts I did,” he said, his voice husky and deep. “But then once we was out on that dance floor… two of us movin’ together. Our bodies findin’ their tempo in unison… damn Britney,” he said with a big intake of breath, lookin’ like he had to restrain himself so hard. “You an’ me just felt so damn right.”
Her heart was poundin’ so hard against her ribs she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Said the words that she’d been too afraid to even think, let alone say. He felt for her, really did.
And even though she knew it wasn’t right, the alcohol and the high of bein’ with him was makin’ her less able to control herself.
So instead of pulling away, she pushed into him a bit more. She focused on the feel of his hand on her waist, his warm, sweet breath washing over her mouth. He was so damned tempting, she could barely contain herself.
But then she didn’t have to, because he swept in and kissed her. His lips pressed to her full pair for what was her first real romantic kiss. It felt like it happened fast and slow all at once, and she was dizzy with the experience as he lashed his tongue along the seam of her lips, and delved in between.
Damien held her tight, his hand at the back of her head as he squeezed her in his arms, and suckled at her upper lip. That tongue of his proddin’ and probing her mouth ever so lightly, nudgin’ in just a lil’ bit as he stroked her hair, tangled up the strands between his digits.
It felt like a fairy tale, like somethin’ that only happened in the movies. Her mind hummed with happiness, and it’s like everything was more real and more fantastical all at once. She didn’t know quite what to make of it, but her shoulders softened and all that tension she’d been feelin’ since they came home faded off into the distance.
Her mouth was soft and yielding against his as his fingers worked their way into her blonde hair, knitting there so gently. And when he pulled away, his eyes locking with hers, she felt something explosive between them, as if nothin’ were ever goin’ to be the same.
His eyes searched hers, seeking permission, and when her mouth found his for the second time, he pulled her in tighter against his muscular body.
Those strong hands were no longer still, they roamed up and down her body, along her figure, over her spine and down to her rear. He squeezed and rubbed at her, luxuriated in the feel of her feminine figure.
A low, husky growl of a moan rumbled up from his broad, barrel chest as he kissed her back deeply, then abruptly — without breaking their lip lock — he hoisted her up in the palm of his hand, cupping her rear as he lifted her with effortless ease.
Part of it was the wrongness, the feeling that they should definitely not be holding and touching one another the way they were. It created a tempest within her, making her yearn for it all the more, to break away from social expectations and just give in.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him so close, the pads of her fingers rubbing up along his scalp.
She brushed her delicate digits through his dark hair as their lips smacked, and he squeezed her ass th
rough her light summer dress.
Damien held her up with ease, her weight no impediment or strain for his thick, muscular arms, and he carried her over towards the couch, letting her fall down upon it as his bulky form remained poised over her.
The beat of his strong heart thudded heavily, travelling through their adjoining chests, through her heaving bosom. He slid a hand up her side, slowly making its way toward her breast, until his hungry hand was closing about that mound, feeling the soft yet supple flesh through the fabric.
She’d never been kissed, and certainly never been touched like that. She thought her entire body would just turn to molten fire with how intense it was, and her back arched so that he could more fully cup her chest.
It was unlike anythin’ she’d ever experienced, certainly more intense than touching it herself, and she let out a soft whimper of desire.
Where she was lackin’ in experience, she made up for in pure instinct. Because her body responded of its own accord, twisting and shaping to meet his demanding grasps, warm and moistening as the grind of his thick, hard bulge against her signalled just how much the fires of his loins had grown.
He was ravenous for her, and she had nothin’ to go on but lettin’ her mind drift and her instincts take over. Thinkin’ about it would be death to the whole moment, insecurities and doubts would creep in about it all, and whether it was right or safe or wise. But it just felt so damn good to have his big, hard body pressed upon her, to feel his desire manifested through his deep, passionate kisses, his hard, throbbing cock.
His mouth found the hollow of her throat, his nose pushing away her fine, blonde hair. He smelled so good and clean from the fresh night air, the slightest bit of chill from the motorcycle ride over still lingerin’ on the parts of him that weren’t pressed against her.
Her hand ran over his back, holding him closer, cravin’ that full body connection.
“Damien,” she cooed out, pleasure lacing his name.
