“Sounds good.” It does not sound good. I want to close the kitchen door behind Damon, take her upstairs, and strip her clothes off. I want nothing between us but air. And then I want to figure this out. It would be easier if I could breathe her in. Taste her.
Protect her from any pressures that would move her too quickly, too close to dangerous territory.
“You sure you’re good with going to the party by yourself?” There’s no hint of judgment in Damon’s voice. None at all. “I could go, if you want a second pair of hands.”
“Silas will be in the parking lot, won’t he?”
Damon nods. “He’s already there, waiting. I’m off duty and you are officially her chauffeur.”
I huff a laugh at my job description and already feel relieved knowing Silas is in place. “I’ll be fine. I doubt things will go too late.”
“I’ll have my phone if you need anything.” Damon slaps me on the shoulder on his way past. “Any time, day or night.”
“I know it.”
“I’m headed out. Seriously—you’ll call if you need anything?”
“I’ll call.”
“Okay. Have a good time.”
With the door shutting behind him, there’s a feeling that takes over. A need to go to her, to kiss her, to brush her hair to the side and tell her what a good girl she’s been. I call her name into the house, and a soft noise from upstairs answers.
She’s in the bathroom in her bedroom, the light slanting into the hallway from the open door. I’m drawn to it, and it seems for a second that she’s the light source.
The glow inside the bathroom caresses her hair, which has been gently curled and cascades down over her shoulders. Ella leans in close to the mirror, her hips pressed against the countertop, and an animal urge claws at me from the inside out. I could take her like that. I could brace her hips in my hands so they wouldn’t get bruised on the counter and command her to watch how beautiful she looks in the mirror while I fuck her.
With my grip on the threshold, I stay where I am, watching her instead.
The light shines off the silver tube of lipstick in her hand. Red, to go with the black dress hugging her hips and skimming her thighs. High heels lift her legs into a criminally beautiful stretch. Is my heart even beating?
Ella finishes and presses her lips together, then blots at the color with a tissue. I have the oddest feeling that I’m watching something out of the past. A memory come to life, right here in this house. This gorgeous woman, in her former glory.
She looks at me over her slender shoulder and shoots me a sultry look as her gaze roams down my body. As if she’s the huntress.
How utterly fucking adorable.
“Hey, Z.”
“I’d punish you for not greeting me on your knees, but it’d be a shame to wrinkle that dress.” Color rushes to her cheeks and there’s a glint of mischievousness in her dark eyes. “You look gorgeous, Ella.”
“Are you ready?” I ask her.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
It’s quiet as I lead her downstairs, her hand tightly holding mine.
The spark between us is magnetized, the air electric as I help her into the car. She’s graceful but most of all, quiet.
“Z,” her voice murmurs over the hum of the car before we’ve even left her house. “Whatever happens tonight, just … you’ll still want me, won’t you?”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“People will ask questions.”
“People are irrelevant when it comes to our relationship.”
“You say that,” she says and brushes a stray hair from in front of her face. “But what about when they ask if there’s anything between us?”