Chapter 11
~Cindy’s POV~
I found myself standing in the hallway of the Skyview Hotel, my stomach twisted in knots.
Why the hell was I here? I couldn’t even explain it to myself.
All I knew was that after that disastrous breakfast with Damian and the Callahans, and then the stupidly thoughtful gesture of sending his driver, Martin, to deliver the entire buffet to my place, I couldn’t shake the guilt.
He left his work, dropped everything, just to show up for me. Inconvenienced himself enough to sleep on a couch.
And how did I thank him?
By running my mouth and throwing every mean thing I could think of right in his face.
Ungrateful brat, table for one.
By noon I couldn’t take the heaviness in my chest anymore. I called Ric, told him to find Damian’s location before I lost my nerve.
Ric didn’t disappoint. A few minutes later my phone buzzed with his text:
Room 174, Skyview Hotel, Panel Road. Took me way too much small talk to get this out of Elis. Love, R.
And that’s how I ended up in this carpeted hallway on the top floor, my eyes glued to each little brass number plate until I saw it.
174.
My heart started thudding fast, like it knew what kind of trouble I was about to walk into.
Okay, Cindy. Go in there, apologize for being an ungrateful bitch, and get the hell out before you get caught in one of his stupid games.
That was the plan.
Until I noticed the door was cracked open. My brow arched. Voices spilled out into the hallway.
Visitors? Probably Elis.
Thank God. With Elis in the room, Damian wouldn’t pull any of his usual stupid crap.
I pushed the door open and—
What the actual heck.
I froze, my entire body locking up as my brain short-circuited at the scene in front of me.
Damian had some woman in a tight red dress pinned against the wall, his mouth devouring hers like she was his last meal.
His free hand—Jesus Christ—was tangled in her hair, yanking her head back to deepen the kiss, while her fingers were palming his erection through the towel wrapped around his hips, stroking him with aggressive, practiced twists of her wrist.
Holy. Shit.
My face burned, my pulse roaring in my ears.
His eyes, dark and predatory, flicked to mine. For a split second, I saw shock flash across his face, like a man caught with his pants down (which, well… he was).
But this was more like a husband caught balls-deep in the maid kind of shock.
I thought he’d stop. The Damian I knew would’ve jumped up, shoved the woman away, maybe even followed me out into the hall.
Instead, he doubled down.
Without breaking eye contact with me, he let the crystal glass in his hand crash to the floor. Wine spilled across the tile, glass glittered underfoot, then he used that freed hand to grip the woman’s ass, kneading the plush flesh possessively as he tilted his head to kiss her deeper.
She moaned into his mouth, looping her arms around his neck and hitching her legs around his waist, her dress riding up to reveal bare skin.
He supported her with both hands on her ass and started rocking against her in slow, obscene rolls of his hips, grinding his cock between her thighs. His mouth devoured hers with the kind of wet, messy sounds that made my stomach twist, his eyes still locked on mine.
I nearly combusted.
Heat burned up my neck, my jaw tight, my chest rising too fast.
My heart hurt in my throat. I didn’t know if I wanted to scream, slap him, or…
Why did it feel like steam was about to blow out of my ears?
Why did this hurt so bad?
Because they looked hot together?
Or because I was jealous as hell and didn’t want him doing to her what he’s done to me?
He’d kissed me yesterday. Now here he was kissing someone else like she was oxygen.
His smirk deepened, dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he drank in my reaction.
He knew exactly what this was doing to me.
“Let’s take this to the bed,” the woman panted, breaking the kiss just long enough to gasp, “Can’t wait to have you inside me. I can feel how big you are already.”
Damian’s smirk was pure arrogance. “As you wish…”
As you wish? My head almost exploded.
I scoffed loud enough to cut through the heat in the room, and the woman finally noticed me.
Her head snapped toward me, lips swollen, eyes dazed.
“Who the hell are you?” She blinked, then glared. “How long have you been standing there?”
I inhaled sharply trying to be zen, and I began counting to five in my head.
Do not commit murder, Cindy. Do not.
“Long enough to see you’re a fucking whore with zero self-respect.”
Oops.Oh no.
The breathwork failed… terribly.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously at me . Then she slid down from his lap, legs wobbling before she steadied herself.
She was… annoyingly gorgeous, I’d give her that. Long legs, curves for days, and lips plumped from his kisses.
Damian didn’t move to intervene. Instead, he strolled to the curved loveseat in a corner, dropping onto it with lazy arrogance, legs crossed, elbow hooked on the backrest, fist resting against his temple, watching us like we were some prime-time drama.
The woman marched toward me. I caught the movement in my peripheral vision and snapped my gaze off Damian just in time to see her lunging at me.
I caught her wrist midair, twisting just enough to make her gasp.
“You must be out of your goddamn mind,” I snarled, shoving her back against the door.
Damian chuckled behind me, sound rich and amused, like this was the funniest thing he’d seen all week.
Asshole.