8

~Alana~

 

I wake up and try to move, but I feel a weight bearing down on me. I look down to see Damon’s arm glued to my chest and his leg thrown over mine.

Well, this is a first. I’ve never been spooned by a guy before and, knowing Damon’s rep, I doubt he’s ever done it to anyone before either. I’m not sure how I feel about it. His position is very protective and I don’t need anyone’s damned protection. But do I want it? No, of course not! Stop it!

He makes me feel safe. Most women would love that, but not me. In my line of work, I can’t afford to let my guard down like that. And every time Damon and I are together, he has this uncanny ability of breaking down all my defenses. He can get to me. He can get under my skin.

It even crossed my mind a couple of days ago of quitting my job. Me? Quitting? I’m the best of the best out there. But just being with him shone light through the darkness that I let take me long ago. He reached a part of me that I’d thought was buried. Maybe it is time to call it a day—time for me to retire. I don’t need the money anymore. I’ve already made the big bucks. Enough to maintain the lifestyle I want for the rest of my life.

The thing stopping me from walking away? The crash. As soon as I stop it’ll start. Just like what happened to Mark. The nightmares, the merciless guilt. It was what killed my father. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He killed himself. He couldn’t take it anymore. How would I be any different? It would be worse. He killed for his country. I kill for money. There’s no righteousness in that.

I still can’t believe what Damon told me last night. He knew my father. And all this time he was spying on me! Without me knowing it, he actually saved my life from that trigger happy biker. That was why I didn’t take our discussion to a physical level yesterday. I owe him now. Big time.

But as for whatever was happening with us, that’s done now. He’s not the man I’d thought he was. I can’t have people in my life who lie to me. Trust is the difference between life and death doing what I do. No, the risk is too high. We’re done.

Last night he’d wanted to talk about it. He’d climbed into bed and told me that there was more to the story, but I hadn’t wanted to hear it. I was still absorbing what he had told me, working to compartmentalize it so that it didn’t affect me on an emotional level. I can’t afford that shit. I need to remain levelheaded. I can’t be balling my eyes out and showing weakness over my fucking father.

Screw that. I’m stronger than that. I have to be. The minute you show weakness, you become vulnerable. Just like I had with Damon in the bathroom yesterday. Never again.

“Damon,” I say, shaking him.

I want him to release me. I could do it myself. I’m a trained fighter. But I’d rather not hurt him unless I have to. Also, now that I know he knew my father in the military and he’d taken that impossible shot at that biker, I’m no longer sure exactly what he’s capable of. And one of my rules is never to take on an opponent you don’t know well enough, unless there is no other option. That’s just stupid.

He murmurs something tiredly.

“Damon. Get off me,” I tell him, shaking him again.

He opens his eyes and looks at me dazedly. “What?”

I can’t help but smile at the look on his face. He sees it and grins back at me. Instead of releasing me like I’d asked, he tightens his hold around my chest, pulling me into him.

“No,” I protest.

“Shh. Just relax,” he breathes in my ear.

“Damon.”

“Just for a little while, before you end this thing with us.”

My gaze snaps to his. How does he know that? Is he reading my mind now?

I move to speak, but he presses his hand to my mouth.

“Shh. Later.”

I nod and he removes his hand. I relax into him and he moans peacefully.

“You always make me do things.”

He chuckles. “I just push you to do things you already want to do.”

“I never cuddle. Ever.”

“Me neither,” he says. “Now shut that sweet mouth of yours before I silence you by filling it with my cock.”

I rub my ass against his already-hard length and he grunts. “This cock?” I tease.

“Keep that up if you’re ready for me to fuck you, Alana. If not…you’re gonna have to stop.”

I stiffen at his words and still my ass, moving away slightly.

He chuckles. “Thought so.”

“Maybe one day,” I mumble without thinking. Shit, what did I just say? This is not happening. We’re not happening.

“What?” he says, bolting up in the bed.

“I…nothing,” I respond like an idiot school girl.

I break his hold on me and hastily climb out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he asks with an amused smile.

“Uh…coffee. I need…coffee. See ya.”

I hear him laughing at me as I hurry out of the bedroom, almost tripping over in my haste.