Tattooed Emotions Page 13

  “Not for you, it doesn’t.” He chuckled throatily, sitting up with me. “But I might cut you a little bit of slack since you didn’t leave me to the sharks after all.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get to watch you face-plant into the water.” I frowned. “I was too busy making sure I wouldn’t flip over your boat.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” He smiled and reached forward to push my soaking wet hair off my face. “You just don’t have much experience driving it.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about me repeating that stunt next time. It was a terrifying experience.”

  “Next time?” he joked, failing to stifle the amusement in his facial expression. “Not a chance. I will never put my life at stake ever again by giving you control of a seven-hundred-and-sixty horsepower motor.”

  “You just said, ‘It wasn’t that bad,’ so I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” I rolled my eyes. “And if anyone’s life was at stake, it was mine. Your boat could have flipped over and flattened me like a pancake.”

  “I wouldn’t have let that happen.” He rotated his hand and brushed his knuckles down my left cheek. “The sun suits you well. However, I think you’ve had enough for one day.” He tenderly kissed me. “Let’s get back to the house.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, feeling my body beginning to ache from this afternoon’s events.

  I couldn’t remember a single time in my life where I’d had more fun than today—even if I’d almost flipped a boat.

  After we stopped for an early dinner at a cute little Mexican restaurant, we returned to Damien’s house. Damien pulled up the driveway and made a big loop in front of the house before backing up the boat and trailer to the side of the garage.

  “Why are you parking over here?” I asked.

  Damien slipped the Sierra into park and shut it off. We both hopped out of the truck.

  He came around to my side of the vehicle and pointed at the hose. “So that I can wash my boat.”

  “It needs washing?” I asked with amusement in my voice, glancing between him and his black-and-white speedboat. It didn’t look dirty to me.

  “Yes.” He picked up the hose and turned it on. “I take care of my possessions.” His tone was full of pride.

  I couldn’t help but respect his answer. “Where are the soap and sponge?”

  “Upper side cabinet in the last stall of the garage.” He gestured behind him. “The key code to open the door is one, two, one, five.”

  I was shocked that he’d just told me his private key code, but I didn’t let it stop me from going to the garage door where I punched in the numbers to open it. I followed his directions and went to the cabinet. Sure enough, there was a large jug of Meguiar’s premium boat wash and a five pack of Meguiar’s premium boat sponges along with a ton of other boat cleaning supplies. Damien definitely loved his speedboat.

  “Clean freak.” I fondly giggled to myself as I reached for the wash, two sponges, and a bucket that I found on the concrete floor before returning to Damien.

  I noticed he’d already wet the boat with the hose, presoaking it, no doubt.

  He extended his hand out to me while scanning the items I’d brought. “Out of all the cleaning supplies in that cabinet, you only came back with two?” he teased.

  I passed him the boat wash and the black bucket. He opened the bottle and squirted some soap into the pail. “You said we were washing it, not giving it a premium detail job.”

  While filling the container with water, Damien let the yellow hose slip, and he sprayed my feet, causing me to jump.

  “Hey, that’s cold!” I screeched.

  “Don’t be sassy.” He smirked devilishly and grabbed the second sponge from my hand. “Thank you.”

  I bent forward at the waist and dunked my sponge into the water, thankful that I was still wearing my pink tank top and jean shorts over my swimsuit, not my spare set of clean clothes.

  I stood to my feet and walked to the front of the boat. I began to rub it in circular motions. Damien came up next to me and got busy. The first few minutes, we worked in silence, and then I was surprised to see we’d already completed half of one side.

  I noted that he was moving with me around the boat, which meant that he was practically rewashing what I’d already scrubbed. He really was a perfectionist. It was an annoying but adorable trait.

  “So, do you have any brothers or sisters?” Damien asked out of the blue as we made our way from the front end of the boat to the other side.

  “No, it’s just me.”

  I’d already told him that I had no family, but he wasn’t the only person to ask me more than once. To most people, it seemed unfathomable. Damien had told me he didn’t have any family either, but it was a choice that he’d made a long time ago.

  I returned his inquiry, “Do you have any siblings?”

  “A stepbrother.” His answer was swift and indifferent.

  I could have sworn his strokes on the boat had become more forceful. I guessed he and his stepbrother weren’t close.

  “Do you speak to him?”

  “No.”

  “How long?” I kept moving forward, cleaning with long strokes.

  “Almost fourteen years.”

  The sponge fell out of my hand. Okay, that was much longer than I had expected him to say. Damien couldn’t have more than a few years on me, so that would mean he and his stepbrother hadn’t spoken since they were very young—or he was much older than I thought. Either way, it was still an extremely long time to not speak with a family member.

  “Fourteen years?” I wondered aloud.

  Damien reached for the hose to begin washing off the boat.

  “How old are you?”

  He shot me a sideways glance. Mischief swept across his face, and his brow rose in amusement. “How old do you think I am?”

  I guessed that he couldn’t be more than a few years older than me, and I was twenty-five. “Twenty-seven?”

  He turned the hose at me and sprayed my legs, grinning. “Wrong. Try again.”

  I yelped and backed up. “Twenty-eight?”

  “Nope.” He pointed the hose at my shorts.

  “Stop getting me wet!” I laughed, retreating.

  Damien followed.

  “Am I getting warmer or colder?” I had to be getting closer to his age.

  He bit his lower lip to prevent a smile and shook his head. “I can’t tell you. Keep guessing.”

  I was going to be drenched by the time I figured out his correct age. Surely, he couldn’t be over thirty. I gave him a hopeful expression and said, “Twenty-nine?”

  “Wrong again.” This time, he aimed the hose at my chest, effectively soaking me.

  “Damien!” I squealed, feeling my nipples go taut and press against my clothing. I was freezing. “Look what you did!” I accused playfully, pulling at my shirt. “I’m all wet!”

  His gaze traveled up and down the length of my body, leisurely and appreciatively. “I like you wet.”

  He dropped the hose and stalked closer to me. His arms came to my waist where he drew me against his body and then glided his hands up my sides before grasping my nape. My curiosity of his age was completely forgotten as my body instantly flared to life under his touch. I shivered at the intensity of his hypnotic stare sizzling into the depths of me.

  “Stay with me tonight, Raelyn,” he demanded gruffly before pulling my mouth to his.

  He wasn’t asking, yet I couldn’t seem to deny him. I wanted him too badly. I needed him to put out the fire that was spreading throughout every part of me. I yearned to feel his hands on me. I wanted his touch to bring me to life again.

  “Okay,” I murmured softly, cupping his cheeks.

  That one word had his lips sealing over mine again.

  Damien hoisted me up into his arms. I locked my ankles around his waist as he began to move toward the house. All the while, he continued to devour me. His tongue pushed past the barrier of my lips and
into my mouth, claiming me for his taking. I raked my hands through his hair where I pulled his mouth harder to mine, as if he weren’t close enough. I was a riot of red-hot flaming need.

  We barely made it through the front door before Damien had me braced against the nearest wall. His kisses were becoming more urgent. He used his thighs to balance me as his hands yanked at my tank top and black bikini top. He tossed them aside before cupping my breasts with his large hands. I arched into him, desperate for his touch.

  “I was gentle with you last time, Raelyn.” His palms firmly squeezed and kneaded my breasts. “I don’t think I have it in me to restrain myself this time,” he confessed on a growl. Dragging his lips down my neck, he lavished me with his tongue, licking and nipping at my flesh. “I want you here, against the wall, hard and fast, and I can’t guarantee that I’ll be a gentleman about it. I want you too badly.”

  I was instantly filled with a desperate ache of anticipation. I didn’t need a proper gentleman, so I deliberately rocked my hips into his groin, finding him rock solid. “I like it rough,” I told him.

  A deep rumble tore from the back of his throat, and he sealed his lips over mine, feverishly kissing me.

  When we finally broke apart, gasping for air, he lowered me to my feet to remove my shorts and bikini bottom. He produced a condom from his shorts before dropping them and his boxers to the floor.

  Damien came forward and possessively gripped my hips to push me against the wall, crowding me. He tugged at his shirt to move it away, revealing his rock-hard erection, while using his spare hand to pass me the condom. His eyes darkened, looking ravenous with heat, as he ordered, “Open it.”

  I snatched it from his hand to remove the wrapper. I reached forward with both of my hands to sheathe him, but I was promptly distracted by the way the firmness of his cock contrasted with his velvety smooth skin. It jutted forward at me, and I itched to take him in my hand, so I did. Tentatively, I gripped him at the base and gently squeezed before stroking him from root to tip.

  “Fuck.” Damien’s upper body swayed forward on a satisfied groan.

  He pressed his nose into my neck, and I felt his labored breaths against my skin.

  I gently pumped him in my hand a few more times before I used the pad of my thumb to swirl around and around on the tip of his head, spreading the bead of cum. My actions sent my own body wanton with need as heat pooled at the center of my thighs.

  He maneuvered one hand between us and slid it down my abdomen to cup my sex. When he began to tease my clit, I bit back a whimper and responded by gently compressing my grip on him and pumping him with firmer strokes.

  Damien rotated his face to mine until we were intimately cheek-to-cheek. The only noise in the room was both of us breathing deeply. He pushed his finger into me and applied pressure on my front wall. My body sagged against him as my insides ignited, forcing Damien to steady me.

  “Raelyn,” he rasped, “hurry up.”

  I didn’t have a voice to respond because my body was set to detonate at any moment, so I pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his length.

  He withdrew his finger from my passage, leaving me an empty pile of pent-up need, as his broad hands spanned either side of my ass to lift me once again. Before I could protest at the loss, the broad head of his arousal met my entrance, and he wasted no time in filling me with one deliriously slow thrust as my torso was reacquainted with the wall behind me. My arms banded around his shoulders to hang on as every single cell in my body electrified, sparking to life. It was rejuvenating.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, throwing my head back at the fullness.

  His mouth absorbed my cries, and then he broke our kiss. “Again?” he asked. His strangled tone was low and husky.

  It sent a shiver racing down my spine before ricocheting back up to settle low in my belly.

  “Yes.”

  The friction of his retreat made me inhale a sharp breath. When he slammed back in, the air left my lungs on a rush. He repeated his movements, each one getting harder and deeper, yet I knew he was holding back.

  I wanted more. I wanted all of him.

  I fisted my hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to mine, breathing along his lips. “More,” I rasped. “I want more.”

  Pulling out nearly all the way, he impaled me more forcefully and then angled his hips to drive himself deeper. It sent an intense tingling sensation to ripple through my muscles, and my walls constricted around him.

  He briefly tugged my lower lip into his mouth. “More?”

  “God, yes.” I rapidly nodded my head up and down, noting we were both breaking out into a light sweat.

  “I want something, too.”

  He delivered another firm thrust, and I felt my impending orgasm looming in the background.

  “And you’ll give it to me.”

  I didn’t like the sound of his overbearing tone, not one bit. But I was too overpowered by the way his body made mine feel, so I gave him an inquisitive glare. “What?”

  “Tomorrow morning”—he gave me another grind of his hips, slower this time—“you’ll stay with me”—he hit me with another delicate thrust, and I gasped as I squeezed around him—“so I can wake up with you in my arms.”

  That was never going to happen. Waking up in someone’s arms was intimate. I’d already made the mistake once. I didn’t want to do it again.

  “No,” I stated resolutely.

  Those powerful gray eyes narrowed with unmistakable determination. He drove forward and thrust into me impossibly deep. “Yes,” he demanded.

  I whimpered with pleasure, but my answer remained the same. “No.”

  He ceased all movements, causing me to shoot daggers at him.

  “I need you to move,” I said.

  “Say you’ll stay.” He ground his hips and swiveled deep, trying to fuck me into submission. “And I’ll give you what you want.” He withdrew to the crown of his head, leaving a trail of scorching heat.

  I cried out as my inner muscles went taut around him, attempting to pull him back in for my impending release. “Fine,” I hissed. “I’ll stay.”

  “Thank you, gorgeous girl.” He kissed the tip of my nose and plunged deep.

  And so, he set a pace, pounding in and out of me, fucking me, marking me, and I couldn’t help but feel like he was making me his as our sweaty bodies collided with one another.

  Pure desire hummed from all directions inside me, sending waves of pleasure to my center. The wild thump of my heart sounded in my ears.

  I’d never felt this way before—except with him. It was as though he’d been given the power to make me feel, to awaken my empty soul and bring light to it.

  Before I knew it, my sex bore down on him, causing him to groan.

  “Christ, Raelyn.” He increased his thrusts as my body climbed its peak. “You’re gripping me so tight. I can feel you’re about to come.”

  “Yes.” I held my breath as stars danced in my line of vision. I couldn’t hold on much longer.

  Damien pumped himself in and out of me twice more, and I felt him thickening within me.

  “Now, Raelyn.” His voice was edged with that domineering sexy tone as his eyes landed on me. “Come with me.”

  And I did. A flood of bright light exploded behind my eyes when my body shuddered and convulsed with ecstasy, milking him with my release. Damien sealed his lips over mine as he let go.

  It wasn’t until later that night when I was in his bed tucked into his arms with our hearts beating against one another, almost as one, that I began to worry.

  Somehow, I was starting to feel like Damien Heathman was piercing my shield. It was as though he was slowly hacking away at the steel I’d so carefully built around my heart.

  I needed to be careful. Otherwise, I’d give another man the chance to hurt me. And no matter my feelings for Damien thus far, I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Deep down, I knew that Damien didn’t just have the power to hurt me. He
could destroy me, and my fragile heart wouldn’t survive him.

  An antagonizing sharp pain shooting through my stomach woke me in the middle of the night. I sat up in bed and swayed to the right as my vision blurred. I stifled a sob as another powerful pain stabbed at either side of my temples, making me instantly break out in a cold sweat. My eyes watered, and I blinked the moisture away.

  I forced myself to take deep breaths, and then I whipped the covers off my body, feeling as though I were boiling to the brim. Recalling I was in Damien’s bed, I quietly rose from the mattress. There was a full moon tonight, so it gave me just enough light to make my way to the bathroom.

  Once inside, I shut and locked the door behind me before turning on the light. A second cruel ache sliced through my skull. It was so powerful that I wasn’t able to support myself. My knees crumbled, and I fell to the ground. I grabbed either side of my temples as my stomach churned from the intense throbbing. I was going to be sick.

  “Ah,” I whispered in complete agony, buckling over at the waist.

  Tears poured down my cheeks and fell to the tiled floor in front of my face. I bit back more sobs, trying to keep my voice but a whisper.

  My stomach clenched tightly and then flipped over again. I threw my hand over my mouth, gagging uncontrollably, as I scrambled to the toilet. I lifted the lid as my internal reflex kicked into gear, and I vomited into the white porcelain. Violent tremors racked through me, and the toilet seat clattered in my death grip.

  A knock sounded at the door, followed by Damien’s voice. “Raelyn, are you okay?”

  “K-kay,” was all I could murmur before my stomach continued to empty itself. It just kept coming and coming. My naked body was drenched with sweat.

  I just wanted to go home, but I wasn’t fit to drive. I couldn’t even muster up enough strength to jump when the sound of the door snapping from its hinges reverberated throughout the room.

  “Jesus.” Damien’s footsteps sounded like he was running. “Raelyn, what’s wrong?” He sat directly behind me and pulled my hair out of the way. “Are you okay?” His voice was panicky.

  The muscles in my neck gave out. My head fell to my forearms that were crisscrossed over the toilet as another wave of nausea ripped through me. Normally, I would have wanted to die of embarrassment at someone walking in on me puking, but I didn’t have the strength to feel any emotions at the present moment. I was in my own private hell, wishing it would swallow me whole and take the pain away.