“Haven’t I told you a thousand times—” Damon’s rough voice said on the other side. The lock jiggled. His voice cut off when he yanked the door open and sawme.
For the first second, we just stared at each other. He was only wearing an undershirt above his jeans, revealing well-muscled shoulders and biceps—a thin line of a scar slanting acrossone.
I balled my hands in the pockets of my jacket. “Can I comein?”
“What are you doing here?” he said, probably aiming for snark but falling more on the side ofshock.
“I wanted to see you,” I said. “So. Can I comein?”
“I haven’t exactly cleaned up forcompany.”
“I don’t exactlycare.”
He glowered at me, but when that didn’t make me vanish either, he sighed and waved me in. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warnyou.”
If Damon ever wrote an autobiography, he’d probably makeDon’t Say I Didn’t Warn Youthetitle.
Beyond the tiled landing just inside the door, a set of creaky stairs led down to a basement apartment. A bachelor: kitchenette at one end, the narrow counter scattered with ringed glasses and a couple of pizza boxes. Bed in the far corner, the sheets rumpled and the pillow propped against the side wall to face the small TV on its cinderblock stand. A two-seater table stood between them, a deck of cards sitting onit.
The space smelled slightly earthen, like most basements I’d been in, but not in an unpleasant way. And there was no hint of nicotine in the air. No ashtray on the table or on the plywood stand beside the bed. Huh. So Damon didn’t smoke down here. I’d wondered how much that habit was an actual vice and how much just part of The Badass Show he was currently attempting to starin.
“You know, normally people consider it polite to give a person a little notice before you turn up at their door,” Damon said. He’d recovered hissnark.
I turned to face him where he’d stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Areyoureally going to start giving me lessons onpoliteness?”
His mouth twitched with what looked like a grin he’d caught. His body stayed tensed, though. “Justsayin’.”
I shrugged off my jacket and draped it on the back of one of the chairs, since there didn’t appear to be any coat hooks around. Damon hadn’t moved. “It’s your apartment,” I said. “Aren’t you going to comein?”
“I’m still trying to figure out what you’re up to,angel.”
I inhaled slowly, gathering myself. Then I walked up to him, holding his gaze, and stopped just a few inches away. Close enough to make his breath hitch. My voice dropped. I was nervous as hell, but somehow I managed to keep the tremor out ofit.
“A few days ago you were talking about all the things you wanted. I’m pretty sure an awful lot of them, I want too. And I’m hoping you’re as done with waiting as Iam.”
The heat radiating off his body rose. He laughed hoarsely. “Do you even really know what you’re asking for,Rose?”
“I think I’ve got the basics and an awful lot of the extras down. You’d be amazed what you can learn frombooks.”
A glint lit in his dark blue eyes. “What the hell kind of books have you beenreading?”
I let a smile curl my lips. “All the bestkinds.”
Damon shifted forward, bridging the gap between us. His chest brushed mine. His hand came to rest on my waist. A faint rasp crept into his voice. “I’m not going to give you some kind of fairy tale. If we do this, we’re doing it my way. Are you ready forthat?”
When he looked at me like that, talked in that low voice, I felt ready to spontaneously combust. My pulse stuttered, but I found the confidence to set my hand on his chest. And then to trail my fingers down, down, over the solid muscles of his abs, past the hem of his jeans, to the bulge straining against his fly, exactly what I’d been lookingfor.
He was already hard. As I cupped my hand around his erection, his eyelids dipped, lust turning his eyes almostblack.
“I’m sure I can figure out anything I don’t know as we go,” I said. A thrill passed through me, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire against my palm. Seeing the pleasure of my touch melt some of the defensiveness from his expression. My own desire pooled in an ache between mylegs.
Damon pulled me even closer to him, trapping my hand between us. Any nicotine smell from his outside activities had left him too, leaving only a lingering hint of leather and something richly bittersweet, like dark chocolate. His head bowed next to mine. “Have you ever touched a guy like thatbefore?”
I swallowed hard and settled on the truth. “Only in myimagination.”
“Has anyone ever touchedyoulikethat?”
A shaky breath escaped my lips. “No, but I figure it’s about time someonedid.”