Chapter 4
743words
His suite is breathtaking—all floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. He sets me down gently on a plush sofa and disappears into the bedroom, returning with a crisp white shirt.
"This will be too big, but it's better than a torn blouse."
In the bathroom, I remove my torn blouse and slip on his shirt. It smells like him—sandalwood and something wild, untamed. The scent makes my head spin in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol.
When I return, he's by the windows, silhouetted against the city lights. He turns, his eyes darkening as they take in the sight of me in his shirt. The way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful, desirable—everything I haven't felt since walking into that doctor's office this morning.
"I didn't catch your name," I say, moving closer to him.
"Damon," he replies simply.
Just Damon. No last name. As if he's used to everyone knowing who he is.
The exclusivity of this club, the luxury of this suite, the way the staff deferred to him... it clicks in my alcohol-hazed mind. He must be one of those high-end male escorts that wealthy women hire. It would explain everything—his perfect appearance, the private suite in an exclusive club, his practiced charm.
The realization should make me back away, but instead, it emboldens me. If he's an escort, then maybe this is exactly what I need tonight—no strings, no expectations, just comfort and pleasure to drown out the pain.
"I'm Sienna," I offer.
"Sienna," he repeats, and the way he says my name—like he's savoring it—makes my pulse race wildly.
He approaches slowly, each step deliberate. "People tend to see what they expect to see."
"And what should I expect to see in you?" I ask, my heart racing as he draws nearer.
"That depends entirely on how closely you're willing to look." His voice drops lower, sending shivers across my skin.
I find myself backing up until I feel the cool surface of a wall behind me. He stops just short of touching me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Your eyes are the most unusual color I've ever seen," I say, surprised by my own honesty. "Like amber with gold flecks. They almost seem to glow."
Something dangerous and thrilling flashes in those very eyes. "What else do you see?"
"When you smile—" I reach up, my fingertip hovering near but not quite touching his face, "—this dimple appears, and it transforms your whole expression."
His smile deepens, revealing exactly what I've described. "Continue."
"Despite just meeting you, there's something about you that makes me feel..." I hesitate, searching for the right word.
"Yes?" he prompts, leaning closer.
"Safe," I finish. "Which makes no sense at all, considering we just met."
Before I can say more, his lips capture mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly ignites into something fierce and consuming. His hands frame my face, then slide into my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss. I respond with equal fervor, all thoughts of Lucas, my diagnosis, everything—vanishing in the heat of this unexpected connection.
He lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he presses me against the wall. His mouth leaves mine to trace a burning path down my neck, and I gasp at the sensation.
"Tell me to stop," he murmurs against my skin, "and I will."
"Don't stop," I breathe, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "I need this. I need you."
With a fluid movement, he carries me toward the bedroom, our bodies still intertwined. As he lays me down on sheets that feel like liquid silk beneath me, I have a fleeting thought that tomorrow I'll probably regret this impulsive decision.
But as he looks down at me with those otherworldly eyes, desire and something deeper swirling in their depths, I realize I don't care about tomorrow. For tonight, I just want to feel something other than heartbreak and despair.
For tonight, I want to pretend that I'm whole, that I'm wanted, that I'm enough.
His hands move to the buttons of his shirt that I'm wearing, slowly undoing each one. "You're beautiful," he whispers, and for the first time today, I believe it.
As his lips find mine again, I surrender completely to the moment, to him, to the oblivion I came here seeking. Tomorrow can wait. Tonight belongs to us.
