First

by Penelope Sky

  I held on to him like we hadn’t spent the evening screwing in this bed. I wasn’t just hungry, but starving. I wasn’t just lustful, but desperate. Damien brought my body to life, thawed the ice around my heart, and made me hot like summer sun.

  He kissed my neck as he pressed me into the bed with his large size. He grabbed me savagely, holding on to me like he was insane with longing. He pushed my shirt up my body so my tits could be free and then yanked my panties off like he couldn’t get me naked fast enough.

  I couldn’t get him inside fast enough. “Hurry,” I whispered between our kisses, my fingers clawing his back.

  He got the condom out of the nightstand, rolled it on, and slid inside me with a sharp thrust.

  I moaned against his mouth as I locked my ankles together around his waist. “Oh yes…” My nails clawed at his back, and I felt my pussy clench around him, rejoicing at his return. “Fuck me, Damien.” I started to tug on his body, showing him how I wanted it. I didn’t hesitate to tell him exactly what I wanted, didn’t feel insecure issuing orders like a drill sergeant.

  He seemed to like it. “Yes, Annabella…”

  The next morning, I woke up alone.

  He’d slipped out before my eyes opened. He didn’t say goodbye, walking away like a cliché. I preferred my dates to leave once the fun was over, but I didn’t mind Damien sticking around. That was probably why I was disappointed.

  I got out of bed and headed to the kitchen.

  Damien sat at the small dining table with a hot cup of coffee in front of him. He was dressed in the outfit he’d worn the night before, a dark t-shirt with his denim jeans. His hair was less messy, like he’d fixed it with his fingertips in the bathroom. He was absorbed in his phone, his thumbs quickly typing a message.

  I felt the smile creep onto my lips as I grabbed the coffeepot and poured myself a mug.

  When he heard me, he set his phone down and looked up. The shadow on his jawline was more prominent in the natural light flooding through the open window. Steam evaporated from his mug and drifted to the ceiling. He stared at me with a controlled expression, taking in my features as if it were the first time he’d really looked at me.

  I sat across from him. “You’re still here.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “No. The opposite.”

  He smiled slightly before he took a sip of his coffee.

  “You seem like the kind of guy to slip out first thing in the morning.”

  His eyes remained trained on me. “I am.”

  “Then why are you still here?”

  He held up his mug. “The coffee.”

  I rolled my eyes even though I knew he was just teasing me.

  “And the company.” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward slightly, like we were talking over the loud noises in a restaurant.

  “You aren’t late for work?”

  He shrugged. “I work when I feel like it.”

  “Must be nice.” I showed up to my shifts right on the dot, and I still barely made enough to get by. I couldn’t afford to ditch work just because I’d had a long night.

  He didn’t respond.

  It was nice to sit with him without the pressure of a conversation. There was a natural comfort there, like we were friends. My mind wandered to our night together, focusing on the instant when I woke him up just to screw. He hadn’t seemed to mind, at least.

  “What are your plans today?”

  “I work in the afternoon. You?”

  “I’m working all day and all night.”

  I knew he had his hands in several businesses, but I never asked him personal questions about it. My ex-husband had always been possessive of his money and how he earned it. He didn’t keep secrets from me, but he didn’t talk about it much. I knew Damien’s bank laundered a lot of his money, so I assumed Damien wasn’t a clean-cut guy either. “You seem to work a lot.”

  “Wasn’t always that way. I lost my partner recently.”

  “Oh…I’m sorry.”

  “He didn’t die,” he said quietly. “He decided it was time to walk away.”

  My curiosity was getting the best of me. I wanted to know more about him, especially since I’d become infatuated with his performance in the bedroom. It was only natural that I wanted to know more about him. But I also reminded myself his career choice didn’t matter much. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, so I didn’t have to worry about getting mixed up in trouble. “What kind of business is this?”

  He stared at his coffee as he considered his answer. It was hard to read him, but it seemed like he didn’t want to respond. Seconds passed before he lifted his gaze to give me his full attention. “Drugs.”

  I stared at him blankly because I didn’t know what response to give. I didn’t live a sheltered life full of rainbows and unicorns. I knew the underworld was full of horrors, and on the spectrum, Damien’s business was on the tame side. He made a product and sold it, and that product wasn’t a person. And it really didn’t matter anyway, because I wasn’t looking for a new husband.

  He watched my reaction. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to run away. And I can’t lie.”

  “You can’t lie?”

  He shrugged. “Not who I am.”

  His drug operation was slightly disappointing, but he quickly made up for it with that response. He could have made up something, and I would have had no idea if he was telling the truth. But he gave the real answer, even if that meant I kicked him out the door. That was an unusual quality in a man…and a sexy one. “I respect that.”

  Relief moved into his gaze. “This last week was hectic. I had a lot of shit to deal with. That’s why you didn’t hear from me. But trust me, I was thinking about you.” He leaned back in the chair, his heavy shoulders relaxing.

  “If you’re stretched so thin, why don’t you sell one of your businesses?”

  He considered the question for a long time. “I’ve put too much into each one just to walk away.”

  Liam was just as ambitious. There were many nights when he never came home. Now I wondered if he had really been working in all those instances. Trust had been incinerated, and I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. “Why were you in such a bad mood when I called?”

  He paused again, as if this question were even more difficult than the first one.

  “You don’t have to answer that.”

  “It’s fine,” he said quietly. “I got into a fight with someone.”

  I knew he had recently left a relationship, so I wondered if his ex was the person who pissed him off. Did he see her a lot? Was she involved in his business at the bank?

  He elaborated when I hadn’t expected him to. “I fucked up pretty badly and lost someone. Anytime we’re together, it’s like another world war. I apologized a million times, but it didn’t make a difference. Now I’m bitter…angry.”

  Now I wondered if he’d been married too. “Did you cheat?”

  His eyes glossed over as he recalled a distant memory. When the question registered in his brain, he shifted his gaze back to me. “No. I’ve never been committed to someone before.”

  Instead of asking him to clarify the instance he referred to, I fixated on the statement he’d just made. “You’ve never been in a serious relationship?”

  The glaze left his eyes, and he looked at me again. “No.”

  I wanted to interrogate him about that, but I thought it was inappropriate. We were sleeping together, but it was causal, and I really didn’t know him that well. If I didn’t want him to ask me a million questions about my divorce, I couldn’t pry either. So I sipped my coffee and didn’t say anything.

  He stared at me expectantly, as if he was waiting for a dozen questions. When it didn’t happen, he grabbed his phone and checked the time. “I need to get—”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

&nb
sp; Damien stilled then looked at me.

  I knew who it was. I’d gamble my life on it.

  “Anna.” Liam pounded his fist into the door. “Open the fucking door, or I will.”

  I’d gotten lucky in the past, and Liam had never visited when I had dates over. Most of the time, I went to their place, so that erased the problem altogether.

  Damien stared at me with the same fixed expression, his look hard and unreadable.

  I couldn’t let Liam see Damien. He’d beat him to death… I wasn’t exaggerating.

  Damien didn’t seem concerned about the man pounding on my door. “I can handle it.” He rose from his seat.

  I threw myself over the table and pushed him back down. “Oh my god, no.”

  He fell back into the chair, visibly disappointed.

  I had nothing to hide and I wasn’t ashamed of Damien, but I knew Liam would lose his shit if he saw him there. “I’m so sorry to ask this…but could you wait in my bedroom?”

  Both of his eyes narrowed. “I’m not afraid of him.”

  “That’s not why I’m asking.”

  Liam pounded on the door again. “Anna!”

  Damien’s eyes darkened as he listened to my ex-husband practically rip my door off the hinges. “Let me handle this for you.”

  “No.” I kept my voice at a whisper. “I appreciate it, but it’ll just make bigger problems for me.”

  He clenched his jaw tightly. His hand rested on the table, and his fingers tightened into a noticeable ball.

  “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not trying to hide you.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “He’s just… Please.”

  He stared at the desperation in my eyes and finally released a sigh. He slammed his hand onto the table then dismissed himself to my bedroom. He shut the door quietly, but he obviously didn’t want to.

  I felt terrible.

  I went to the front door and twisted all the locks so I could open it.

  He barreled inside with rage in his eyes. “You took yourself off the account?”

  I knew he was going to figure it out eventually. His next statement would show he was the sole holder of the account. He might have even gotten a notification that I’d left. “Yes.”

  “What the fuck, Anna—”

  “We aren’t married anymore.” I was sick of having this same conversation over and over. I wanted to move on, start over, but he refused to let that happen. “We’re divorced. Do you understand that?”

  His lips were pressed tightly together, and his eyes burned with dark fire.

  “I’m moving on with my life, Liam. That means I don’t want your money. I can take care of myself.”

  Liam looked around. “You live in a dump, Anna. You’re a waitress who barely makes a living—”

  “Still better than being married to you.”

  His jaw slackened, but his eyes looked devastated.

  “It’s over, Liam. You need to move on.”

  His chest rose and fell at an increased speed as his hurt eyes took me in. “It’s still my responsibility to take care of you. Together or apart.”

  “It’s not…” Sometimes I got so angry with him, but I had to remember he was a good man…despite what he did. This was just hard for him, even though he’d had plenty of time to get used to the change.

  “You didn’t take any of my assets in the divorce. You didn’t take alimony—”

  “Because I don’t want it, Liam. All I ever wanted was you.”

  He closed his eyes as if that comeback stabbed him through the heart.

  “You need to stop showing up like this. It’s inappropriate.”

  He opened his eyes again. “You don’t take my calls.”

  “Because you shouldn’t be calling me, Liam. And that’s my right.”

  He stepped back and ran his fingers through the back of his hair. The vein in his forehead was popping because he was so livid. He was used to getting whatever he wanted, and if he couldn’t, he physically fought for it.

  “I’m seeing other people.” I’d never directly told him before because I assumed he already knew.

  He closed his eyes once more, this time, his jaw clenching in agony. He dragged his hand down his face and took a step back, so furious that he didn’t know how to bottle the rage.

  I said it because it was true. I didn’t want to hurt Liam, but he needed that push to finally move on. And I also wanted Damien to know I wasn’t keeping secrets either.

  When Liam righted himself again, his eyes moved to my closed bedroom door.

  Shit.

  After a heartbeat, he started to move.

  I grabbed him by the bicep, gripping the enormous muscle before I tugged him back. “No.”

  He twisted out of my grasp.

  “Liam.” I didn’t raise my voice, but my tone was full of promise.

  He came back to me, but his eyes kept glancing at the door. He was livid when he had no right to be.

  “You’re seeing other people too.”

  “I haven’t.” His eyes darted back to me, his tone barking. He challenged me with his gaze, as if he dared me to accuse him of lying. “And I’m not going to. We can make this work. I believe we can—”

  “Liam.” I pressed both palms against his chest. “It. Is. Over.” He was the one who’d thrown us away, the one who’d broken my heart, the one who made me cry every night. But I still felt like shit doing this to him, being so cold and heartless. “Move on. I already have.” My features wanted to slacken because it was so painful to say that to him, to hurt him when I knew he genuinely loved me. But I had to be cold, fierce. Otherwise, he would be stuck living on hope.

  He took a deep breath as he held my gaze, devastated by the knife I’d just stabbed into his heart. His gaze dropped for an instant, searching desperately for something to say, but when he couldn’t find the words, he stepped back. My hands slid down his chest as he headed to the door. He didn’t look at me again before he walked out.

  I stared at the closed door for several heartbeats, feeling guilty when I was the one who hadn’t committed the crime. It’d been six months since I’d signed those papers, so he had enough time to come to terms with the finality of our divorce. He couldn’t keep showing up on my doorstep like he had the right. He needed that devastating blow to finally move on, to know there was a man in my bedroom who had slept over the night before.

  If I saw him with someone else, it would bother me. Of course it would. But I would bottle my feelings and accept the inevitable.

  The bedroom door opened a moment later, and Damien slowly walked into the room. With his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he approached me with empty eyes. He glanced at the door as if he expected Liam to return before he looked at me. He was the strong and silent type, so he didn’t say much in general. He didn’t say a lot now. “You alright?”

  I nodded. “Yeah…I’m sorry about that.”

  He shook his head. “No need to apologize. I don’t blame the guy, honestly.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “If I lost you, I’d be devastated too.”

  9

  Damien

  Hades must have asked the front desk to call him when I stepped into the building because he barreled down the hallway like a bullet—with me as his target. His arms swung hard with his movements, and the murderous expression on his face told me exactly what he was pissed about.

  I stopped in front of my door and slid my hands into my pockets. “Bad day, huh?”

  That only pissed him off more. “What the fuck, Damien?” He stopped just inches from me, his red face covered in rivers of veins. There were two on his forehead, forming a noticeable V shape. He was sweating like he had just gone for a run, even though the AC was always set to 68.

  “How do I look so good?” I glanced down at my suit. “Jessica. She picks out all my clothes—”

  He held his fist and closed it, his knuckles turning white. He shut his eyes hard, trying
to control himself from pulling out his knife and shanking me between the ribs. “I swear to fucking god…”

  “I thought we only prayed on Sundays—”

  He slammed his closed fist into my face.

  I jerked back with the hit, but it didn’t hurt so bad because I knew it was coming. I felt the blood drool from the corner of my mouth and wiped it away with my thumb. His fist didn’t hurt my face, but the action did. For as long as we’d known each other, we’d never struck each other…for over ten years.

  I straightened my spine and faced Hades. “Nice shot.” I wiped away the blood on the sleeve of my suit—even though it cost me ten thousand euros. Maybe the blood would wash out and I could donate it.

  “De Luca was one of our biggest clients. What the fuck did you do?”

  “The guy was a dick.”

  His eyes were wide. “Answer the goddamn question.”

  I’d finally stopped bleeding, so I didn’t need to keep wiping away the blood that had dripped down my chin. “Asked me to put his ex-wife back on his account.”

  His eyes shifted back and forth at supersonic speed because he was completely bewildered. “Why is that a problem?”

  “Because she came in a few weeks ago and asked to be removed.”

  “So?” I hissed. “Just do what the fuck he says.”

  “She’s just gonna come in and ask me to do it again.”

  He threw down his arms. “So? Their marital bullshit is their problem. Let them deal with it.”

  “She’s our client too, asshole.”

  He stopped narrowing his eyes so he could see my full expression, take in my complete reaction. Seconds passed as his intuition kicked in. He was a smart guy, could read people with little stimuli. “You better not be fucking her.”

  “What does it matter if I am?”