Damien
God, she was beautiful. Her hair was incredible, and for some reason, I was fascinated with it. It hung down past her shoulders in a swath of rich, ebony-colored silk. She had it in a long ponytail, and I had to bite back my groan when she released it, massaging her scalp with a satisfied sigh. The scent of it, of her, drifted to my side of the car, and I inhaled greedily. I liked her fragrance. It was light and airy, not cloying or overpowering. I had the constant urge to bury my face into her neck and inhale her where I knew her scent would be concentrated.
As well as somewhere else. Somewhere warm, wet, and musky.
Her voice brought me out of my lust-filled musings. I shifted in my seat to relieve the pressure of my cock pressing against my zipper.
“That feels better,” she murmured.
“Does it hurt to wear it in a ponytail?” I asked, trying to make my voice normal.
“It’s heavy, and by the end of the day, I’m glad to let it out. Not as much as when I wear it up in a bun, though. By the end of the day, my head aches sometimes.”
“It’s beautiful—your hair, I mean. Well, you are too, but your hair, yeah, ah, gorgeous.” Internally, I rolled my eyes. That was so fucking smooth. Not.
But it seemed to delight her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said firmly.
“Thank you.”
I smiled. “You like Italian?”
“You mean you?” she teased.
I chuckled. “The food. Or we can do Chinese? Thai?”
“Love them all.”
“Great. We’ll do Italian tonight. Chinese next.”
“You’re so sure they’ll be a next?” she replied, lifting one eyebrow in a sexy, quizzical look.
“Trust me, Raven, there will be.” I pulled into the parking lot of my favorite little bistro.
She smiled, looking pleased.
“What?”
“I like how you say my name,” she admitted.
“It suits you,” I responded as I opened the door of the car and held out my hand to help her.
“It’s really the shortened version.”
“Oh?”
“My full name is Ravenna Jade.” She smiled. “My mom loved the name. My dad added Jade because of my eyes. When I was born with lots of dark hair and my eyes were already green, which is unusual, they decided it was meant to be.”
“I like it.”
“My mom thought it was cool, but she shortened it to Raven. She thought it suited me and would be easier as I went through school.”
“She was right. Your hair—it’s so dark, it reminds me of a raven. I think they are beautiful, majestic birds.”
“You certainly are a charmer, Damien DeSalvo.”
I wound my arm around her waist. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”