Chapter 12
~Cindy’s POV~
The woman’s face twisted, and then—oh, classy—she flung herself onto the floor, fake tears welling in her eyes.
“Are you just gonna sit there and let this bitch ruin our fun and assault me like this?” she whined, pouting up at Damian.
If there was one thing I hated more than liars, it was grown-ass women throwing tantrums.
If only she knew he hated tantrums more than I did.
I turned just in time to see Damian’s expression shift. His jaw ticked and his body coiled.
Without a word, he stood, stalking toward her. The second he loomed over her, she stopped crying, pushing herself up with a smug smile.
“I knew you wouldn’t choose her—”
“Big mistake,” he growled.
Before she could process it, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the door. She didn’t even struggle, too stunned to react as he shoved her into the hallway.
“Next time,” he said coldly, “learn to be professional and, most importantly, stop sleeping with clients. I don’t do whores.”
With that, he slammed the door in her face, turning the lock.
Her screeches and screams of outrage were muffled through the wood, fists pounding, curses flying and calling him every name in the book.
I silently agreed with most of them.
Damian strolled to the landline, called security, and within minutes her voice was gone.
Then, without looking at me, he grabbed the Château d’Yquem from the decanter, poured a glass, and walked out to the poolside terrace like nothing had happened.
Through the glass doors, I saw him lounge back in a chair, sip his wine, and stare into the blue water like he was on vacation.
I exhaled sharply.
I’d come here to apologize, and somehow I’d just made things worse.
But fine. Apologize, then leave.
Heavy legs carried me to the terrace.
The second I stepped outside, the warm evening breeze hit me, carrying the scent of chlorine and his stupidly expensive cologne. He was sprawled on a lounger, shirtless, white towel tied loosely around his waist, the golden sunlight glinting off his damp skin as he poured himself a drink.
I opened my mouth—
“Thought you’d turned into a statue,” he mused, cutting me off as he swirled the honey-gold liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip.
His throat worked as he swallowed, eyes fixed on the shimmering water.
“I came to apologize,” I said, nerves making my voice tighter than I wanted.
I fidgeted, rubbing my palms against the clingy fabric of my dress. It was a deep pink, sleeveless, with a neckline that dipped just low enough to tease. The fabric hugged every curve, the hem riding high on my thighs.
And the best (or worst) part? The back was open, held together by nothing but a single, flimsy tie.
His gaze finally slid to me, slowly and seductively, dragging over my body.
He didn’t get up at first, just let his eyes linger until my skin prickled. Then he rose, like a predator unfolding.
“Came here just to apologize,” he murmured, voice a dangerous purr, “but you’re dressed this hot? Tell me, Cindy… what are your motives?”
I backed up as he stalked closer to me, but he didn’t stop. Not until my heel hit the pool’s edge, and I tipped backward with a yelp.
My fingers scrambled for his arm, but the bastard just grinned, holding my wrist, not pulling me up. No, he let gravity do the work, following me down with a wicked laugh.
“Damian!!!”
My scream tore through the air an instant before we hit the water—a shock of icy cold, the world upending in a chaos of splashing waves. The pool swallowed us whole, his body a hard press against mine as the water roared in my ears.
I came up sputtering, shoving soaked hair from my face just as his arm banded around my waist, yanking me flush against him.
God.
Even dripping wet, he was breathtaking, too breathtaking for an asshole.
Sun-kissed skin, water sluicing down that stupidly perfect chest, his abs, and—
Oh no.
His towel was gone, floating somewhere behind him. I shrieked, slapping my hands over my eyes, but he pried them away, wrestling my wrists against his chest.
His smirk was pure sin.
“Pink looks good on you,” he said, eyes shamelessly dropping to where my dress clung to every inch of me.
“Let me go, you asshole! Your audacity grows by the day!”
He chuckled darkly. “Since you already know that—why did you come? Alone. Looking like this.” His free hand skimmed down my side, making me shiver.
“And let’s not forget the part where you chased away my whore. Now I’m hard and horny. What do you think I’m gonna do about it?”
“Fuck yourself, obviously.”
He grinned wider. “No, sweetheart,” he purred, fingers trailing lower, “I’m gonna fuck you.”
My body tensed.
What the…..
Before I could fire back, his hand slid straight between my legs. His fingers grazed the inside of my thigh and…
Oh my God.
A shiver tore through me and my body flinched toward him before I could stop it.
“Look at that,” he whispered, his mouth so close to my ear his lips brushed my skin. “Someone’s so eager to be touched.”
My cheeks burned hotter with shame not just because of what he was doing, but because a weak part of me loved it too damn much.
No. No, no, no… Cindy, this isn’t happening. Damian is like a little brother to—
Fuck.
My breath locked in my throat as I felt his fingers crept higher, grazing slightly over my soaked panties.