To hell with it, if anyone did walk in I was confident that Damien would handle everything. He’d said as much on the night he’d made his indecent proposal back in LA.
Besides, it was just too good for me to care about anything else.
“Oh, baby,” I groaned. “I’m going to cum.”
Damien got me there quickly and, as I could have bet, he started on me again immediately. I was soon on my way to orgasm number two. During a brief pause, Damien left my pussy and brought his face to mine. I kissed him hungrily, holding his cheeks in my hands as my shoes slid and scraped on the sink surround and Damien used his fingers on me.
After a second juddering and vocal climax, after he got me there again with his tongue, he pulled away from me with a gasp while I slumped panting and breathless to the cold marble floor.
After that I was sure I loved him. What I’d felt when he comforted me after I’d fainted on set, that warm, protective embrace was one facet to the nature of Damien Taylor. I loved that he could be so nurturing when we shot the movie scenes, I loved that he’d looked after me and protected me that afternoon, and I absolutely adored the sexual dimension to this gorgeous, sharp, sensitive man.
I thought Damien’s actions in the men’s room were a sign that he’d forgiven me for the spider incident. But as it turned out I’d been wrong about that from the start. Damien wasn’t bothered by all that anyway, it was something else that had upset him.
He told me what he really felt in no uncertain terms in the limo on the way back to the hotel.
And his words hurt me, shocked me so much that I begged the driver to stop and bundled out of the car.
Before Damien could come after me I hailed a conveniently passing taxi and climbed inside. The driver took me to a nice hotel, not in the same opulent style as the other hotel but decent enough. It wasn’t as though I was used to the high life anyway, and this hotel was more like the standard I was used to. I only needed somewhere to hide out so I could think without Damien finding me.
The clerk on duty looked at me quizzically, no doubt wondering why I looked so upset. He gave me a key after I’d paid using my credit card and I went along the corridor in search of my sanctuary.
I sat on the lonely bed and went over Damien’s words in my head. He’d spoken about how I belonged to him sexually, and that he’d seen Rafe’s name on my phone when it rang, but had only kept up the happy, smiling pretense for the cameras.
“I’ll ruin that arsehole’s career if he makes any attempt to get you back,” he’d growled, his face twisted into a snarl of fury. “You made a deal with me, Kylie. I’ll fucking destroy that wanker if he tries to get you back. Sexually, you belong to me. Don’t forget that. You’re mine. That little scene back in the men’s room was just to remind you.”
So he didn’t really care about me? I was just something to own, his plaything. How could he think I’d go back to Rafe? Hadn’t he listened to me after all?
And to say he’d ruin Rafe’s career just like that, on a whim, like a spoilt kid in a tantrum because someone tried to take his ball. How could Damien be so awful?
I picked up the phone.
“Kylie?” My dad’s warm, familiar, lovely voice caused a flood of tears. “Are you OK, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained with concern.
It all came pouring out in bursts as I cried into the phone. I told my father all of it, about the spider and how traumatic it had been and about Damien’s reaction to Rafe’s call.
“Why would this guy care about you and Rafe?” my father asked. “Why should he be bothered about your love life?”
“Oh, daddy,” I blubbed, “I think I’ve fallen for him. Damien, I think I’m in love with him. We’ve been together since we got to Paris.”
“Oh, Kylie,” my father said, soothing me across the miles of Atlantic and time difference that separated us. “So soon after, Rafe? Do you want to come home? Do you want to come here?”
For a second I thought about how good that idea sounded. I could just go home and into the security of my father’s house. I could hide there and forget all about Rafe and Jenny and Damien. I could put all the ideas about making it big and showing my sister how good I am out of my mind. I could put Rafe down as a bad loss, better to have found out what he was capable of before I’d married him. As for Damien, if I could get over Rafe I could get over him too.
My father’s love pulled at me and I yearned for the familiar house, the same old smells and the normality of waking up in my own bed in my own room.