Chapter 26 Torn and Exposed
POV Scarlett:
There he is, waiting for me, leaning against his car like some lost goddamn heartthrob in the desert.
When I was about to leave the diner, I prayed silently that Mr. Arrogant-Ass would’ve gone home already—but the smug smile on his lips as he waits by his car makes me realize just how wrong I was. I huff, furious at the audacity of that bastard for kissing me. Because of him, I had to lie to several coworkers about who he was, and the best excuse I came up with was saying he was an old fling who, unfortunately, still hasn’t gotten over me.
Damian grins wider when he sees me approaching, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I could pretend to be the tough, unbothered Scarlett, but the truth is—I’m exhausted. All I want is to get home and rest.
That annoying dimple shows in his indecent smile as I stop in front of him. I cross my arms and tilt my head, silently daring him to start whatever it is he’s dying to say to irritate me again.
“Want a ride? We can talk in the car,” he says, opening the passenger door. My internal asshole alert screams loud and clear.
“No, thanks. Here’s fine. You can talk.” I’m not getting into a car with a man I barely know—especially one who manages to piss me off with such impressive ease.
His expression falters for a moment, but of course, Mr. Arrogant bounces right back. Damian smiles at me like I’m some kind of clown there for his amusement. I give him my best bored face, and finally, the grin fades. Seriously, does he not realize I’m tired? All I want is a bed, not this nonsense.
“Playing hard to get?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “I like that.”
Oh, this man must have serious issues.
“Mr. Blackwell, please make my life easier and tell me what you want to say.”
He steps away from the car, moving closer. I’m still confused by his sudden appearance at my workplace—not to mention his stupid stunt of kissing me like we had any kind of relationship. I’m at a point in my life where I can’t afford problems, and Damian Blackwell kissing me in front of people—people who might run their mouths to my father—makes my blood run cold. I can already imagine what could happen if my father hears about this.
“Why did you send me that money?” he asks, standing just inches from me.
So that’s why he’s here?
“Look, I just wanted to make things right. What I did was wrong,” I say honestly. “And if that’s why you came here to talk—”
“It’s not,” he cuts me off. “Did you receive an envelope from me?”
“Oh, so that’s it? Is this about the envelope I tore up without reading?” His face twists in shock at my words.
Was it something important?
“You tore it?” he says, his voice rising. “You just tore it?” he repeats, sarcastic and disbelieving.
“Yes.” I bite my lip. “Was it important?”
Damian shakes his head—and then, to my surprise, he starts laughing. Real, deep laughter.
This man definitely has a very, very serious problem.
He looks at me in silence, and there’s a new gleam in his eyes that makes me swallow hard. In just a few steps, he closes the space between us. His hands grip my waist, pulling me against him. I’m too shocked to do anything.
“You’re a very intriguing woman, Miss Monroe,” he murmurs, his mint-scented breath brushing my skin. “What am I supposed to do with you?”
My mind turns to jelly when he cups the back of my neck, his intense gaze holding me in place. His thumb caresses my cheek, and before I can think, his lips are on mine again. Only this time, I feel his warm tongue asking for entry—and for some reason I don’t want to think about, I let him.
I gasp as his tongue explores my mouth with deliberate, consuming devotion. I can’t remember the last time I was kissed like this. Actually… I can. It was when—
Damian ruins my train of thought when his mouth trails down my neck, making me forget my own damn name. I can’t stop the moan that escapes when I feel his teeth scrape against my collarbone.
“I want to lick, bite, and suck every inch of your body,” he growls in my ear, his voice thick and indecent. “I want to fuck you, Scarlett.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying—and failing—to suppress my moans.
“Get in the car. Let me make you scream my name.”
“Why… are you doing this?” My voice trembles. “Is it because… I tore up the envelope without reading it?” His rough laughter vibrates against my neck.
“Get in the car,” he repeats.
“I… I…”
My words vanish the moment my body is yanked violently backward. I crash to the ground, pain shooting through my tailbone.
When I turn to see who grabbed me, my blood freezes. My father.
My hands start to tremble uncontrollably—because I know exactly what he’s capable of. I still have the scars from the last time he “punished” me.
“Back to being a whore?” His voice drips with disgust. “Actually, you never stopped being one, did you, you slut?”
My vision blurs as tears gather in my eyes.
“Dad, I—”
“Shut your mouth!”
Behind him, I see a few coworkers stepping out of the diner to see what’s happening. Mrs. Arlete comes last, her eyes landing on me, crumpled on the ground.
“I knew it! I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to go back to what you really are!”
I try to stand, but my father shoves me back down. Pain shoots through my knees and the palms of my hands as I hit the ground, scraping against the pavement. I bite back a cry as the sting burns through my skin.