12. Mila

He's not overly confident. I know by the unwavering truth behind his words, that he's capable of just what he's promised. Excitement flares deep in my belly, arousing all the nerves throughout my body so just the mere brush of his fingers along my jaw has me purring.

"Damien," I whine, eyes fluttering closed, desperately trying to conjure some courage to utter the words I need to say. Not that they'll change anything. "This is a bad idea," I merge, with eyes roaming along his chiseled features to access his reaction. I only appear to make the mischievous gleam in his eyes twinkle more.

The heat radiating from his skin is distracting. I find myself arching towards him, basking in it. His thick fingers teasingly trail down my throat to my collarbone, careful to graze the neckline of my shirt, and I hiss. His deft fingers are expert at conjuring sensations I've been deprived of from shitty ex-boyfriends who didn't know how to touch women.

Just when I felt myself melting into his delicate embrace, he cupped my chin tightly, and pulled my gaze to his. Dark. Insatiable hunger swirls in the depths of his colorful orbs. An array of blue's and greens drawing me in, threatening to drown me. My breath hitches in my throat from his change of stature, and I find myself extraordinarily frightened and turned on by him. By this Damien.

"You want a job? You've got one," He begins, turning my head sideways to lean and place his mouth next to my ear. His tongue darts out to slide along my earlobe, enacting a shiver through my body. He grins and continues – his raspy voice bringing me to heal beneath his touch. "If not in my office, then in this club. You're mistaken if you think I'm going to let another man claim what's mine."

Mine. Typically, the possessiveness of the word would have me throwing a fit, but I like the way it sounds coming from him. All sexual promise behind it.

"I would go through every single one of these fuckers, if it means having you beneath me in bed."

"That's quite the conquest," I find myself muttering breathlessly. He's amused. I return his grin, and glance down at his full lips, reveling the way his tongue moistens his bottom lip when he draws it along the pink flesh. His perfectly straight, white teeth flash and he bites his lip.

He's breathtaking. Gorgeous in a way unfamiliar to me. His smoldering gaze makes me pant. I'm baffled by how reactive my body is to him. Unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's almost disconcerting. I'm usually more in control over my own body, but when I'm with him it's like he's the master of me.

"Tell me, Mila, what do you want me to do to you?"

Fuck. I squirm pressed up against his body, hoping to put some pressure on my burning core, and tame the arousing flames licking my insides, but his words add gasoline to the fire. Saliva pools in my mouth and I gulp, hoping my voice comes out just as steady and confident.

"Touch me," I admit, a warmth falling over my cheeks from how vulnerable my words make me appear. I'm not one to beg, but his command of me to is overwhelmingly hot.

"Where?" He muses, making it apparent not to place his hands back on me until I've directed him just of where I want them to be. I know we're still in the hallway, and there are people occasionally walking by, but I'm too far lost in all that is him.

"Everywhere," I mutter. A soft chuckle from deep within his throat fills the looming silence.

"Eager now, are we?"

I nod. That's a fucking understatement.

He narrows his eyes, his jaw clenching.

"What about Cole?"

I want to roll my fucking eyes at him, but not when he's staring at me so intently. His unspoken question lingers. Am I still with Cole? Little does he know I kicked him out ten minutes after Damien left. He grabbed his stupid football jersey and tried to get me naked with sympathy for getting punched. Nope. It didn't work. Not when Damien is the only one I crave. Cole seems insignificant now.

I shake my head.

"He's a nuisance. Don't worry about him."

I expect an argument. Maybe even an accusation or a challenge of my words but he nods genuinely like he's accepted what I've said. He slaps a hand beside my head along the wall, and his warm breath smells like liquor and him. It makes my head spin.

"I want to make something clear." His expression wary. "I do not share."

With raised brows, I challenge him.

"Neither do I."

The thought of him being with another woman, here, angers me. Memories of the first time I saw him here, fucking someone else surge unwarranted in my mind, and I clench my jaw, suppressing the rising swirl of emotions. Jealousy. Frustration. Insecurity. I shove them away, and am rewarded with him firming his lips, humor lining his crinkled eyes.

"Jealous, are we?"

"Not in the slightest," I lie, moving to press my hands against his firm chest. He glances down at my fingers, and swiftly grabs ahold of my wrists, before raising them against the wall so I can't move.

"I like you better like this. Restrained. Easier to control."

My eyes linger on a few people littered in the hallway.

"Let them watch me fuck you, Mila. Watch the way you cry out my name when I finally get to enter that sweet cunt of yours."

My insides clench deliciously from his words, and I nearly entertain the idea of letting them watch, just because I'm so impatient right now I can't stay still. He chuckles.

"Oh baby. In due time."

The universe must hate me because once he goes to pull me along behind him by my wrists, my phone rings. I forgot I was carrying it in my bra. I pull it out quickly.

I want to throw it against the wall, but I give him a look and he releases my wrists, watching with a narrowed gaze as I answer it and pull it to my ear.

It's Kassandra.

Talk about cock block.

The spell that entwines us is broken, and I feel myself sounding agitated on the phone.

"Yeah?" I snap, instantly regretting it when I'm met with a worried tone.

"Uh, Mila?"

"Yeah, is everything alright?"

"I know I was supposed to drop your car back off to you tonight after the oil change, but it's just been repossessed."

I'm speechless.

She volunteered to have her brother do my oil change for free so I let her take my car, having to take a cab here, but I was desperate. The sting of quitting and Cole and Damien made me panic and I did what I thought I had to do. Come here to find another job. Looks like I ended up in the same awkward position.

Fucking Cole.

He never made the car payments on my car either? When he said he was? He gave me the illusion that he was taking care of me when really he was digging me into a hole. What the fuck?

"Are you fucking serious?" I snarl into the phone. "My car?"

She sighs.

"Yes. They said you were four months behind."

"On my car?" I repeat the words, hoping she's mistaken. I figured they'd repo Cole's car, but not mine. I was just about to make a payment this week since Cole and I broke up and he's not helping with finances anymore. Guess he never was.

Damien senses my irate state and runs a hand through his hair.

"I have to let you go," I rush, hanging up before she has a chance to reply. I'm dialing Cole's number with speed, a menacing glare forming on my face. If looks could kill then everyone better watch out.

"Mila, what's going on?" Damien presses, but I can't answer him. My vision is red, and my hands shake as he answers gruffly like he's just awoken.

"Cole.... What the fuck have you done? You didn't pay my car payment either? Where the fuck did all that money go?" I yell into the phone, ignoring the concerned looks from others around us. Damien's brows are furrowed and he looks murderous.

"They fucking repossessed my car, you jackass."

"Mila?" Cole answers. About fucking time.

"Duh. Who the fuck else have you screwed over?" I don't even want to think about the potential of him messing with the lives of other unsuspecting women. The thought is nauseating. I wait for an excuse. Something that at least makes this situation bearable. Maybe he needed to help his family? He gave some money to a homeless person – I don't fucking know, but something to calm the storm within me.

"Sorry, Mi."

Two fucking useless words. He mutters them into the phone with no conviction, and I wish I could reach my hands through the phone and strangle him on the other end.

"I hope you rot, you dumb asshole."

I hang up and throw my phone hard against the wall. I can't fucking handle this anymore. Just when I feel like I can break free of the chains I've had during that entire relationship, I get yanked back by a fucking collar and leash.

Tears prick my eyes, and I can't hold them back. I let them sting my lids, pooling in my eyes and spilling over down my cheeks. A shaky breath, and a small sob escape my lips and I'm in Damien's arms summarily. He holds me against his tight body, and I find solace in his warm embrace.

He hushes me, letting me cling to him in my moment of vulnerability. Wave after wave of raw emotion ebbs away at me, and I continue to unfold. Every moment I think I'll calm down, a new onset of tears flows uncontrollably.

He holds me for what feels like eternity, before I feel him step back, and cup my face.

"I'll fucking kill him," He growls. His whole body is lined with tension. His muscles are flexed, jaw is clenched, and his eyes are ravenous.

I bat my lashes, raising my hand to swipe the tears and sniffle.

I believe him.

Punching Cole was well deserved. Cole doesn't give a shit about me.

Here Damien is consoling me, trying to pick up the pieces my ex-boyfriend made, and I was such a bitch to him when he confronted Cole at my apartment. Guilt surges through me.

"I- I have no way home now. I have no fucking way anywhere until I can figure something out."

Damien shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it. I'll lend you my BMW."

Is he fucking insane? I shake my head, muttering 'no' repeatedly. If I crash that thing, I can't imagine how much money it would cost. He stares hard at me and shakes his head.

"This isn't a debate. You're borrowing the car. End of the fucking discussion," He states firmly, and relinquishes his hold on my face. He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone quickly, scrolling through something.

"And as for a job, if you still want yours, you can have it. Unless you'd rather get paid for me to do all the dirty things I want to do to you." His joking tone eases my mood, and I crack a small smile at him. His eyes twinkle.

"Hm, the second option is quite tempting, but I think I need a 'normal' job." I clear my throat, and blot under my eyes with my fingers. "I'll be in tomorrow then."

"Can't say I'm not excited."

I don't want to ruin this wonderful moment. I definitely don't want it to end, but I'm exhausted, and my heads pounding. Crying will do that to you.

"Do you mind giving me a ride home?" I say lowly.

"Let's go," He replies. He doesn't sound angry or disappointed. He just sounds distracted. His attention is still on his phone. I walk quietly beside him, avoiding the stares of others because I know my eyes and nose are red and puffy and unsightly.

It's slightly brisk from the night outside, and we walk idly towards his car. The BMW he wants me to drive. It's sleek, and red. The interior is leather, and I'm hit with that new car smell.

"What are you doing?" I finally ask. I can't contain my curiosity. He's been so silent since we've left the club.

"Ordering you a car."

"What?" I gasp. He's completely lost his fucking mind. I twist in my seat, my jaw hitting the floor and stare at him as he places his phone down and shoves the keys in the ignition. "I- I don't have that kind of money right now, Damien."

"I didn't ask you for money, now, did I?"

"Unbelievable," I grumble and fall back into my seat, my arms crossed over my chest.

"We'll work out a way you can repay me later." He grins. I playfully smack his arm, and a throaty chuckle fills the car. He appears so carefree, but the tension is palpable. He's still upset about my phone call. I can tell by the wrinkle between his brows and the tension in his shoulders as he grasps the steering wheel.

His words linger in the air, and I shift anxiously in my seat, the exhaustion suddenly dissipates and is replaced by sheer need. Need to feel his lips on me. His hands. His cock between my thighs. I bite my lip to muffle a moan and notice his eyes on me as we stop at a red light.

He regards me with the same intensity. Like he's fighting within himself for control.

The light turns green before he has a chance to react and we're moving. Flying through traffic, weaving in and out of cars until we've arrived at my apartment. He parks out front and turns immediately in his seat.

I lick my lips and take a deep steadying breath before turning to face him fully.

"Damien, thank you." I say. My eyes travel to his lips, admiring how inviting they look. So tempting. I could just lean slightly forward and brush mine against his. With a feathery touch, I tangle my hand in his hair, and angle myself slightly forward.

His breath hitches in his throat, and his eyes fall to my lips as I bite my bottom lip.

"Mila," He warns. "I'm telling you now, I'm so fucking close to losing control with you."

The corner of my mouth twitches upward into a satisfying grin, and I brush my lips against his softly, reveling the electric shock that ignites all my nerve endings. I pull back slightly. His eyes are darker. More resembling an animal ready to pounce.

"I won't be able to hold myself back from burying my cock inside of you, Mila."

He searches my face, most likely for protest, but I return his observing eyes with a gentle urging.

"Then don't."