Chapter 144: Drop-off
Damien quickly called two of his most trusted men who were already at the office. They picked up on the first ring.
“Boss, the truck just showed up in the parking lot,” one of them said immediately. “We were about to call you.”
“Good. Stay right there. I’m on my way now,” Damien replied, already heading for the door. “Don’t let anyone near it until I get there.”
He grabbed his keys and headed down to the garage. The drive to the office was tense, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. When he pulled into the parking lot, the large delivery truck stood out like a sore thumb among the sleek company cars. It looked completely out of place.
Damien parked and walked straight over to the driver, who was leaning against the cab looking impatient.
“I’ll lead you to the drop-off point,” Damien told him firmly. “Follow me closely, but we’re not taking the truck all the way to the final location. You’ll stop a few blocks away.”
The driver crossed his arms, clearly reluctant. “That wasn’t part of the deal. I’m supposed to deliver and leave.”
Damien didn’t argue. He simply pulled out a thick wad of cash from his wallet and handed it over. “This should make it part of the deal.”
The driver’s eyes widened slightly at the money. He pocketed it quickly and nodded. “Fine. Lead the way.”
Damien signaled his two men, and they climbed into his car with him. The convoy moved out Damien’s car in front, the truck following behind.
When they reached a quiet street a few blocks from the house, they pulled over in a dimly lit area. For the next half hour, the four of them worked quickly and quietly, transferring the heavy bolts of “textiles” from the truck into the trunk and back seat of Damien’s car.
They made six exhausting trips back and forth, sweat beading on Damien’s forehead by the time the last bundle was loaded. His muscles ached, and his shirt clung to his back, but the job was finally done. The driver gave a quick nod and drove off into the night, leaving no trace behind.
Damien was huffing and tired as he drove the short remaining distance home. He parked in the private garage, left the car locked, and headed straight upstairs.
The moment the elevator doors opened on their floor, he saw Jasmine waiting for him in the downstairs hallway. She had clearly been pacing, worry etched on her face.
Without a word, he walked straight into her arms, wrapping himself around her tightly. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a long, exhausted breath as the tension finally started to drain from his body.
“It’s done,” he murmured against her skin. “All the textiles are in the car downstairs. Six trips… but it’s finished.”
Jasmine’s hands immediately moved to comfort him. One slid into his dark curls, gently massaging his scalp, while the other ran soothingly up and down the length of his back. Her touch was gentle and grounding.
“Good job,” she whispered softly into his ear, her breath warm against his skin. “You did well. I’m proud of you.”
Damien pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes soft with gratitude and love. He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Come on,” he said quietly, leading her toward the elevator. “Let’s go up.”
They stepped inside together, the doors closing as they rode up in comfortable silence. Damien kept her hand firmly in his, the simple contact reminding him why he was willing to go through all of this in the first place.
~
"Such a pretty baby," Damon's deep, dulcet voice rumbled close to my ear.
I sighed softly and turned slowly in front of the full-length mirror, trying to get a better view of the open back of the dress. The deep dip exposed the elegant curve of my spine and the subtle dimples at the base of my back, my scars faint but visible. I tugged gently at the hem again, hoping to pull it down just a little, but the fabric clung perfectly in place.
At least my backside looked cute in it.
Damon stepped up behind me, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses from the side of my neck down to my bare shoulder.
His long, slender fingers gently tucked my hair to one side, giving him full access to my exposed skin. "So fucking pretty, baby," he whispered against me, his hot breath sending a shiver racing across my neck.
"It's a little too much, don't you think?" I asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
His strong, calloused hands slid around my waist, wrapping possessively over my stomach. His tall frame leaned into me from behind, his head dipping into the crook of my neck as he inhaled my scent deeply.
After a moment, he turned me around in his arms so I was facing him. My hands instinctively went to his shirt, my fingers playing nervously with the buttons while his adoring gaze took in every inch of me.
"It's beautiful, baby. Only something this elegant is worthy of you," he said softly, cupping my cheeks with both hands and gently tilting my face up. My eyes met his gorgeous emerald green ones, swirling with love, adoration, and raw lust. "So fucking gorgeous. You look like you're mine."