Losing her inhibitions, Trihn threw her arms around Damon’s neck and leaned against his body. She teasingly circled her hips as the techno backbeat picked up the tempo. The crowd around them started jumping, but Trihn leaned forward and pressed her mouth to Damon’s.
Their heated bodies slammed against each other, and paint-slick wet hands grasped onto bare skin. Desire flared in her stomach. Lust mixed with hope and the promise of something real. She had feelings she had sworn off for undeniably good reasons. But his kisses tasted like chocolate. His skin was a canvas she wanted to turn into a masterpiece. His seductive movements hypnotized her. Cognizant thought fled, leaving behind something she hadn’t felt in a long time—abandon.
Damon brought out the old Trihn, the one who had danced on rooftops in Milan, flirted with strangers in London, and lived her life without fear.
But fear had a way of eating you up from the inside out.
Slowly, over time, fear had done its job and mingled with his bastard cousins—doubt, regret, and depression—leaving a hollowed out corpse of a person.
Damon crept into those empty spaces and infused them with light. His mere presence seemed to rid her of the dark despair that had fallen on her shoulders like a familiar blanket.
This could be real. This could work out. She at least owed it to herself to give it a real shot. If she opened herself up one more time and found heartbreak waiting around the corner, then it would really be the end. She couldn’t survive it a third time.
And Damon’s soft kisses over the pulse of the music honestly made her believe it was possible.
The DJ played well into the night, but Damon pulled Trihn from the crowd when he got to the point where he couldn’t seem to take his hands off of her. They sped back into the city, and without a word, Damon drove them to his place.
He parked, rushed around to the other side of the car, and held the door open for her. She sympathetically looked back at his painted cover interior.
“Don’t worry about it. It all washes out,” Damon said before drawing her in for another kiss.
He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. At the show, they’d been all over each other—not that anyone else had noticed or had been lucid enough to care.
They took the stairs to his studio. Trihn kicked off her shoes at the entrance. Damon took her hand, and she was careful not to touch anything as they walked through his suite.
When they got to the bathroom, he closed the door behind them and turned the shower on full blast. He peeled her destroyed white shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. He kissed across her collarbone and then down her stomach before sinking to his knees before her.
Her heart stuttered as she watched him worshipping her body. His fingers deftly unsnapped the button on her jeans and dragged the zipper to the base. Then, he took his time inching her once white jeans off her legs and threw them into a pile with her shirt. His hands crawled up her legs, admiring every bare inch of her skin.
He moved to her face and smudged away some paint on her cheek. “There. Better.”
“One smudge, and that was all it took?”
“You’re my pièce de résistance.”
Their lips met again, bridging the distance between them. He snapped her bra free with one hand. She felt exposed with him in so much clothing, so she worked her way up his shirt. He pulled away long enough for her to remove it. His jeans followed, but she wasn’t as patient as he was. Her fingers tugged at the material, stripping him out of everything as quickly as she could. He made no protest as his boxers fell to the floor next, showing just what their stripping had done to him.
Her body quivered at the thought of being with him again. She hadn’t forgotten for one second how good he was in bed or the pleasure he brought forth from her body. She had shoved that knowledge in the dark recesses of her mind when she was too afraid to move forward—but no longer.
She stepped out of her last article of clothing, and they both walked under the steaming hot spray. The shower floor was soon the same neon wash that had coated their bodies.
Damon poured soap into his hands and massaged it into her back. Her muscles released any remaining tension at the touch. His hands slid down her back, around her stomach, over her shoulders, and then her neck, removing any trace of the paint. Then, they dipped down to cover her breasts. He kneaded them in his hands, pinching the nipples, causing her to arch backward into his body.
Then, with a clean hand, he trailed lower, caressing her clit before delving into her aching core. She could feel his stiff cock pressing against her lower back, but he made no move to take her. He just worked her body until she was trembling beneath the hot water, coming on his fingers.
As she came down from her high, Trihn rested her hand on the wall to steady herself. When she turned to face him, lust hung heavy between them. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and crushed their lips together.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he growled into her mouth.