by Morgan Rae
“Unfortunately,” Tonya continues, “that means Bryce and Margo have to pack their bags.”
“This is bull!” Bryce snaps. He kicks sand as he gets up.
“Watch out for that one,” Margo hisses at me. Her eyes flicker between me and Damien and her lips curl in a wicked smirk. “Damien hit on me while you were drowning. Good luck with your man-whore.”
Margo spins away from the circle and leaves a raincloud in her wake.
I feel Damien’s arm tighten around my middle. “She’s lying,” he says. “You know that, right?”
“Ignore her,” I say. I twist into him and press the keys against his bare chest. A smile curves my lips. “Let’s go bust open some locks.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: NANCY
As soon as we go inside, I dive for the big cabinet by the bookcase. Damien checks the smaller box in the bedroom. My key fumbles in the lock, but doesn’t turn it.
“Switch!” I call out. We trade places quickly. We’re like kids on Christmas morning. I dash into the bedroom and shove my key into the small box.
It pops open for me. Excitement bubbles inside of me as I push the top off the rest of the way.
Inside the box, wrapped in lush foam, sits my Nikon camera. I feel my chest clench with a wash of emotion. My sweet, sweet baby girl. I lift it in my hand and it’s like the return of a long-lost limb. As fun as it has been to be Tomlin, it is nice to have a piece of Nan with me. I didn’t quite realize how much I missed the comfort of my camera until I have it in my hands again. I turn it on and it chirps and whirls into action. I peer over the digital display and I’m grateful to see that Jack has wiped my memory chip. Well, except for one selfie of him spreading two fingers apart at his lips and shoving his tongue out lewdly. I snort a laugh and delete the picture. Asshole.
But it’s not the only thing in the box. I pick out a roll of film as well. Which is strange. My Nikon is purely digital, why would I need a roll of film? I pop open the case and something rattles around instead, so I drop it into my palm.
It’s one of our micro-digital voice recorders. I hit the record button just to see if it’s in working condition. Sure enough, the small red light blinks once before it goes discreetly dark again. My good mood drops as I feel a tingle of unease crawl up my spine.
The show has been fun, but I’m not here to play games. I’m here to get a story, and Jack’s recorder is a smack-in-the-face reminder. I am not Tomlin Murray, I’m Nancy Harper, a TXR spy. I used to be fine, even proud of that fact. Now, I’m not so sure.
“What’d Santa leave you?” Damien’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I quickly hide the recorder into my bikini top before I spin around. He stands in the doorway, wearing a crooked smile. He has a beautiful oak acoustic guitar in his arms
“Say cheese,” I tell him as I lift the camera. He pulls a goofy grin and gives me an excited thumbs up. I laugh and snap the picture.
“Camera looks good on you,” Damien says.
I take a mini-curtsey. “Thank you.”
“C’mere,” Damien says. He pulls me in and his lips cover mine. For a moment, I lose my breath as he kisses me softly. I feel his hands climb over my bare skin and there’s a slight pinch as he unplugs the lavalier and unclips it from my body. “Let’s go off grid for a bit,” he murmurs. There’s that dangerous smile that makes my pulse pick up.
“Okay,” I agree.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: NANCY
It’s cooled off a little bit, but it’s still comfortable to walk around in a bikini. Maybe the victory made me confident, but I don’t even feel the need to hide under a too-big shirt anymore. Instead, I walk down the beach with Damien, half-naked. He takes my hand as he leads me, holding his guitar by the neck in the other hand. My camera hangs from a strap on my neck. We walk to the end of the shore, where it breaks off into a long, jagged line of large rocks. The rocks are, for the most part, flat, and I could probably walk the length of it is I wasn’t worried about breaking my back.
“Found this spot a little while back while I was on my morning run.” He motions to the rocks with a sweeping motion of his hand. “They didn’t set up any cameras here because of the terrible lighting and the safety hazards..”
He takes my hand and helps me sit down on the beach. The sand still sun-warm and it feels nice on my bare legs. As Damien settles in, I snap a couple shots of the sunset. The sun touches the ocean now and has left crimson streaks in its wake.
Damien sits his guitar in his lap and strums it. He’s tweaks the string slightly, tuning it, before his fingers start to dance over the strings. A low, vibrating sound fills the air and warms me. I stare out in the distance as he plays a beautiful, calming melody. It sounds the way red wine tastes, the way hard oak smells. I curl my toes in the soft sand and watch the waves roll in and out, as though the beach itself is breathing.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
I sigh deeply. “I missed music.”
“Me too,” he murmurs. Damien looks at peace here. With his guitar in hand, he’s become another person, not the frantic, desperate to be liked playboy. No, with his guitar, he’s a professional, and his forehead creases in concentration.
Who else can say they got a private show from Damien Blaze?
“Damien Blaze,” I murmur thoughtful. “Carefree. You do whatever you want. Sleep with whomever you want. No consequences to any of your actions. Must be nice to be you.”
The corners of his mouth twist as though he’s just bit into a lemon. “It has its perks.”
“Have you ever been in a relationship that lasted longer than a couple hours?” I ask him.
“No,” he responds almost too quickly. People who tell the truth don’t blurt out answers like that. His eyes fix on his guitar and away from me.
“I hate to be the one to tell you,” I say, “but I am a human lie detector.” I smile. “You can’t hide from me.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and strums his guitar thoughtfully. His walls are going back up. He’s encased in an inch of thick, unforgiving steel and it’s going to take more than calling him out to get him to open up.
I slip my hand onto his thigh. “Hey,” I say. I drop my voice, softer. “No cameras, right? You can talk to me.”
I’m distinctly aware that my mini-recorder is rolling, hopefully it’ll catch my story. My adrenaline spikes like a lioness closing in on the hunt. This is it, this is the story I came here to write.
Damien shifts his guitar out of his lap and turns his gaze to the ocean. He’s obviously uncomfortable talking about this, but when he speaks, his voice is steady, firm. “There was a girl,” he starts. “I couldn’t tell anyone about her. Back then my manager was pushing this whole bad boy act, he said a girlfriend was the equivalent of career suicide. So, I kept her away from the limelight, didn’t tell anyone about her. I flirted with groupies, gave them the whole dog and pony act. She knew it was all for show, but…didn’t mean she liked it.”
Damien rakes his fingers through his hair. I squeeze his thigh once for encouragement. “That must’ve been hard on you,” I say.
Damien sighs. “It haunted her. She had a hard time sleeping and she just…took too many sleeping pills one night. She overdosed and I was the one who found her. By time I got her to the hospital, she was already gone.” His eyes meet mine then. They’re sharp with pain but noticeably dry. He’s locked any emotions in a vault behind a steel door and no one is getting in, not even me. He does soften his voice, however, before he admits, “I’ve never told anyone about that.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry doesn’t even seem to cover it. The man sitting beside me isn’t the arrogant playboy I’ve known. He’s open, vulnerable, and surprisingly human. I reach out to take his hand, it’s all I can think to do. To my surprise, he links his fingers in mine and squeezes back.
“What’s your story?” he asks.
His question catches me off guard. I blink. “What do you
mean?”
“I told you my secret,” he says. “So what’s yours?”
My heart is beating a million miles in my chest. For the first time since I’ve met him, Damien has every wall down. He’s open to me and he’s inviting me in. I’m aching to join him. I want to throw off this pretense, I want to burst out of my cage, I want to tell him everything, right then and there. I want to tell him about my job, about the story, about how I’ve secretly been sent to destroy him.
But even now, my walls are up too high and the words die on my tongue. The waves ebb and flow on the shore below and, like that, a chill runs through me and the moment passes. I have to give him something.
I give him another secret entirely. One that’s no less true and no less painful to rip from my chest.
“My secret,” I say, “okay. I’ve never been in love. Ever.”
He nods at that.. “Why not?”
“I just…I don’t know.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I threw myself into my career right out of college. After that, all I could think about was making my way through the ranks, working harder, finding more creative, inventive ways to do my job…I didn’t have time for love. Honestly, as heartbreaking as your story is, I wish I had a long-lost love or something. Instead, it’s like there’s nothing lovable here.”
His eyebrows knit. “Tomlin, you are incredibly lovable.”
“Please,” I wave him off, “I don’t need your pity-compliments.”
“I’m telling the truth.” He leans in and says, “You are one of the smartest, most driven and dedicated women I know. Not to mention, you’re drop dead gorgeous. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
“Better be careful there,” I laugh under my breath. “I’m going to think you’re coming on to me.”
His eyes don’t leave mine. “I am.”
A shudder runs through me. There’s passion brewing quietly behind his eyes and I’m hypnotized. I shift forward like a moth to the flame and brush my lips against his boldly. We share a soft, tentative kiss before he breaks it.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks.
“Wow, every other girl you drop your pants without a second’s thought, but with me you hesitate?”
“I can give away my fingers, my tongue, and my cock,” he states plainly. “Easily. But I like you, Tomlin. I’m afraid if I’m not careful, I might end up giving you my heart.”
My heart that was just beating out of my chest stops and my eyes go wide. Is he falling for me? He’s not the confident, cocky man I knew from moments earlier. He’s almost scared, like a gazelle teasing the distance between itself and a full-grown lion.
“Don’t worry, Blaze,” I whisper in his ear as I nibble his earlobe. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
He lets out a longing sigh from deep in his throat. “I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you.”
I pull back just enough for my gaze to flicker over his. Electricity sparks between us and I can practically feel it sizzle on my skin. I hold his gaze as I demand, “Show me.”
Damien tilts forward to kiss me. His lips brush against mine, teasing my mouth with his, and I meet him halfway. I kiss him with a hunger that even startles me. All my pent-up need is wrapped around my skin like barbed wire and Damien frees me a little more, bit by bit, every time his lips hit my skin. He opens my mouth with his tongue and I drink him in. He tastes like salt water and he groans into my mouth. He wants this just as badly as I do.
Fuck the show and my job. I’ve spent twenty years of my life shelving my wants and needs for my career goals. Right now, I couldn’t care less about getting the story. All I want is Damien. Blue eyed, silver tongued, bad boy with a heart of gold and a cock of steel, and I’m the one he wants.
I grab his shirt and drag him on top of me as my back hits the sand. We kiss there for what seems like forever, his tongue swirling over mine as the water gently laps at the shore only feet away. The night is cool here, but his bare skin is hot as embers against mine. When he breaks the kiss, it’s only to put his mouth everywhere else. I feel his lips brush my throat, my chest, down my stomach.
Boldly, his thumbs hook over my bikini strings and he draws them down my hips. He bares just enough of me to slip his tongue down and taste my sex. I gasp sharply and my whole body goes rigid. He paints heavenly circles around my most sensitive spot and I feel pleasure coil tightly around me like a vice. I’m trapped in this haze of lust. My hips try to buck forward desperately, but his grip on my hips keeps me deliciously his. Damien’s hot breath beats against my vulva and I open up like a plump summer flower, nectar dripping.
His tongue moves tantalizingly slow. He’s gotten me so worked up that even the lightest flick of his tongue over my clitoris sends a red-hot bolt of pleasure through me and I gasp.
“Oh my god,” I whisper over and over. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
Damien has found my weakest point and his tongue lashes my aching bud over and over. My thighs shake violently as I vibrate on the precipice. I’ve broken out in a sheen of sweat and my whole body is on fire. I grip his thick curly hair with both hands and rock my hips frantically against his mouth as he strategically keeps me on the dagger-thin edge of a mind-blowing orgasm.
“You want to cum, don’t you?” Damien asks. His hot breath tickles between my legs as he speaks.
“Yes,” I whisper in a breath. My body trembles with unspent tension as he traces a slow, wet circle around my clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Tell me you want it, Tomlin.” His voice is dangerously demanding. “Tell me you want me to take you there.”
“Damien, I—”
A loud splash and a cry jolt us both to attention. I quickly squeeze my legs shut and look out towards the noise. Shayla and Darius are splashing around in the water together. Apparently, Damien and I aren’t the only ones looking for a little fun in the sand.
“We should go,” I murmur quickly, “Before they see us here.” I’m sopping wet and my legs are still shaking. I’m in no condition to hold small talk.
“Grand idea,” Damien says. He grabs his guitar by the neck, I pull my bikini up over my bottom and snatch up my camera, and we both scramble off the beach and back towards our bungalow.
I find myself giggling as we rush to our door and Damien fumbles to unlock it. “I feel like a naughty schoolboy,” he grins.
“Am I the teacher or student in this scenario?” I ask.
“You’re sandy,” he says.
“Sandy? Was she your first girlfriend or…”
“No, sandy. You’re covered in sand.” He opens the door and hooks an arm around me. “Let’s get you in the shower.”
With one arm, he hoists me up over his shoulder and carries me inside. I gasp in surprise and dissolve into a fit of laughter. He sets his guitar down by the door, untangles my camera from my neck and puts that on the table as well, and carries me off into the bathroom.
“Do you manhandle all your ladies like this?” I ask. I can’t see much, but I can hear the shower hiss as he turns it on.
“Only the ones I know are trouble.” He sets me down at the edge of the shower. I can hear sand falling from me like rain on a tin roof. I inch into the shower and let the water pressure do the work for me. I sink into the stream of hot water and let it relax my tense muscles.
I feel his hands on me before I realize he’s stepped into the shower. Damien slips his hands up my back to pull apart the tie on my bikini. I peel it off my chest and toss it in the corner of the shower with a wet slap. He works off each side of my bottoms then and peels those from me so I’m completely naked. He pauses briefly to steal the soap and lather up his hands before I feel them on me again. He starts at my shoulders, my back, and even crouches down to get my ass and my legs. I feel like a very pampered princess and I love it.
“Turn around,” he instructs.
“Is this the star treatment?” I ask.
“Naturally,” he replies. I t
urn around and he straightens up again. He’s tall and I’m eye level with his chest. My gaze dips lower to find him completely naked, and erect. I’m unabashedly proud that I did that. I’ve made the great Damien Blaze hungry for me.
I bit down hard on my bottom lip.
“What is it?” Damien asks. He knows I can’t get the words to come out. “You want to touch me, don’t you?”
There it is. My cheeks burn fiercely as I nod.
“What did I tell you?” Damien quietly chastises. “Never be afraid to ask for the things you want.”
He takes my hand then and wraps it around his cock. God, he’s an Adonis. I stroke him slowly from base to tip. His skin is velvet soft and his cock grows rock hard under my touch. Feeling bolder now, I tug at his cock as the shower water lubricates my hand, making his large member slide easily between my fingers.
He pulls my hair back and kisses my throat. Damien sighs deeply in my ear. “That’s good…”
It’s been a while since I’ve been intimate with anyone, ten years to be exact, but it’s like riding a bike, right? And now I’m hungry to make up for lost time. I stroke him quicker and murmur, “I want to take you in my mouth.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in response. “By all means.” He gives my lips one last kiss before he coaxes me to my knees.
The shower floor isn’t the most comfortable and I shift so I’m not directly under the water spray. I take him in my hand and press light kisses up and down his generous length. My eyes flicker up to watch his reactions. Damien has one hand against the wall to brace himself and the other he settles on the back of my head. He draws my wet hair to the side so he can clearly fix his eyes on mine.
Perfect. I tease my tongue over the tip of him just to see his jaw tighten. That carnal look in his eyes makes me feel like the sexiest woman in the world.
“Right little tease, aren’t you?” he breaths. The grit in his voice makes me weak. Water beats on his shoulders and trickles down between the muscles of his abdomen.
