When Damian had entered his office and found the woman in the Little Red Riding Hood costume bending down, about to open the refrigerator that contained bottles of human blood, he’d seen red, and had been close to attacking her for breaking in. But when she’d turned around, his thoughts had turned in a totally different direction.
He’d never been attracted to a woman on such a primal level as he was to Naomi, whom he knew nothing about, other than that he wanted to drive his fangs into those perfect tits. Had she really come to his office to get a kiss because of a bet with her girlfriends? He wasn’t sure about that. But right now, he didn’t give a fig about her motives, as long as she allowed him to kiss her and touch her.
Other men might have described Naomi as chubby, even though they would at first be drawn to her pretty face, her blond hair and her blue eyes. But Damian liked her figure, because everything about her was real, the way it was meant to be: Full breasts, wide hips. She was real, because he knew that her breasts were natural, not an ounce of silicone in sight. Not like the skinny models that threw themselves at him. Just by looking at their boobs he could tell that the only reason they looked so firm and large was because they were fake. And he hated fake.
But Naomi’s breasts were beautiful, big, and responsive. He loved kneading them with his hands, while he sucked on her nipples and teased the little rosebuds into stiff little peaks. He kept his fangs extended, and brushed them against her skin, feeling bolts of lightning race through him at the contact. It felt as if he was rubbing his hard-on over her tits. And fuck was he hard. His cock was ready to burst, ready to plunge into this hot woman.
Even the costume looked perfect on her. The skirt was so short that when she’d bent down to open the refrigerator, he’d seen that she was wearing a black G-string. As if she needed to look any more enticing than she already did. He could barely hold on to his control. Another five minutes, and she’d be bent over the desk, and he’d be fucking her until she begged him to stop.
He lifted his head from her breasts, and looked into her blue eyes. Her lids were at half-mast, and arousal shone from her eyes.
“Touch me,” he demanded and pulled her hand to his groin, making her aware of what she did to him.
Something in her eyes flickered. Surprise? How could she possibly be surprised at how hard he’d gotten so quickly, when surely, any man she touched reacted the same way?
“I love your tits,” he said and pulled one hard nipple into his mouth and licked over it.
Naomi released a strangled moan.
He squeezed both breasts with his hands, and suddenly felt her squeeze his cock in the same fashion.
“Oh, fuck, yeah!” he ground out, and rubbed his cock harder against her, demanding she repeat the action.
Then he sank his lips back onto her gorgeous tits and sucked them. He’d always loved big-breasted women, but Naomi was the first one who came in this perfect package. She had beautiful eyes, sensual lips, and the aroma of her blood spoke to the vampire inside him. Both sides of him were drawn to her, and while he’d been with tantalizing women before, none had ever ticked all the boxes.
“I want you, Naomi, I want you now,” he murmured against her heated skin, while he reached underneath her short skirt, eager to feel how wet she was for him.
“Damian, I need you—”
Damian froze. The female voice wasn’t Naomi’s. He spun his head to the left. There, at the door, stood Lydia, dressed in a Steampunk costume.
“Fuck!” he hissed, while simultaneously using his cape to shield Naomi from her view. Not that he could hide what they were doing, since Lydia’s hybrid vampire senses would have already picked up on the scent of arousal in the room. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Already, Naomi was pulling on her dress, trying to squeeze her boobs back into the bustier, with little success.
Lydia had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, but the microphone’s not working, and I’m supposed to sing in a few minutes.”
“Can’t you ask Patrick to help you?”
“He’s even busier than you.”
Damian knew what that meant. “Fuck!” This was the worst timing ever. But he had responsibilities. His own needs would have to be postponed, but not for long. “Just a sec, Lydia.”
He turned back to Naomi, and reached behind her to lower the zipper.
“What are you doing?” she ground out under her breath and glared at him.
He lowered his voice though he knew that Lydia could probably hear him anyway. “You’re not gonna get your boobs back into your dress like that. Just let me help you. Turn around.”
She turned, still shielded from Lydia’s view by his cape, and tucked herself into the dress, then he pulled the zipper back up and cupped her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her neck. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere, we’re not done.”
Damian turned back and walked to Lydia.
“Lydia, why don’t you keep my guest company while I fix the microphone? Be back in a minute.”
At the door, he added so low only a vampire’s or hybrid’s hearing could pick it up, “Don’t leave her alone in the office.”
Lydia raised an eyebrow, indicating that she’d heard him, and Damian left the office.
~ ~ ~
Naomi felt as if she were coming out of a daze—or as if somebody had poured a bucket of ice water over her. She’d been about two seconds away from allowing Damian to fuck her against the wall of his office. What had gotten into her? She’d never acted like that with any man. She wasn’t the kind of woman who had one-night stands, let alone quickies with strangers. Yet feeling Damian’s hands and lips on her had smothered all her inhibitions.
“I’m Lydia. I sing here occasionally. What’s your name?” the pretty woman in the Steampunk costume asked. She wore her blond hair braided and artfully draped around her head.
“Uhm, Naomi. I’m Naomi. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Naomi. I didn’t know Damian was dating anyone. Guess I’m out of the loop.”
Naomi recognized a fishing expedition when she saw one. She wasn’t going to step into that trap. It was bad enough that Lydia had walked in on them. Didn’t anybody knock these days?
“So, Lydia, you sing here? That’s great. What kind of music?”
Unexpectedly, Lydia chuckled. “I like you. You’re not one to kiss and tell.”
“Wha—”
Lydia interrupted her by lifting a hand. “Don’t take it the wrong way. Some secrets should definitely be kept.”
At the cryptic remark, Naomi wondered what Lydia meant by it, but she wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation about secrets. It was a minefield she planned to avoid.
When silence spread between them, Naomi said, “Nothing to tell, really. I’m sure I’m not the first woman Damian has kissed in his office.”
She shrugged. There’d probably been hundreds. And most likely he’d made all of them feel like it meant something. Why that bothered her all of a sudden, she didn’t want to examine. It didn’t matter. Or at least, it shouldn’t matter. After all, she was only doing this for her job.
Yeah, not even she believed that. She could have easily extricated herself from his arms if she really didn’t want him to kiss and touch her. She’d taken self-defense classes, and knew how to stop unwanted attention. She could have kneed him in the balls. Instead, she’d palmed his cock, and boy, he’d felt good. He’d been hard, and thick, and big. Just thinking about it now made her womb clench in response.
If she stayed any longer, she’d probably say something to Lydia that she didn’t mean to divulge just because she was nervous.
“I should go down to the bar and get something to drink,” Naomi lied, searching for an excuse to leave.
“Damian asked you to stay and wait for him.”
“I’ll be right back.” Then she realized that she had to retrieve her cape, but it would look strange if she wore the cape to simply go down to the bar. She needed an excuse to take her cape, because she couldn’t leave without her phone, her keys, or her money. That was it. Money. “Oops, almost forgot my money.” She walked to the desk chair to snatch her cape.
“You won’t need that. Just tell them at the bar that you’re with Damian. They’ll comp your drinks,” Lydia claimed.
Damn it! “Anybody could say that. How would the bartender know?”
“They’ll know.”
Another cryptic response by Lydia.
Maybe a half-truth would satisfy Lydia. “Well, if you must know, I feel a little uncomfortable in this outfit. Every guy just stares at my boobs, and it’s just a little… unsettling. So I’d rather cover up.”
That seemed to have done the trick, because Lydia nodded, “I get it. I’ll come with you. I need a drink anyway. Nerves before the performance, you know?”
Naomi forced a smile, put her cape around her and tied it under her chin. Great, now she had to shake off Lydia somehow. Hopefully, it wasn’t too difficult. After all, it was a mad crush in the club, and it wouldn’t take much to slip away while Lydia ordered a drink at the bar.
On the way down to the bar, Lydia followed her like a shadow. She didn’t understand why she was so adamant about not leaving her alone. As if she sensed that Naomi wanted to leave. She had to resort to a ruse to get out of here.
“Ouch,” Naomi cried out and turned to Lydia. “Somebody just stepped on my foot.”
“It’s a hazard in here. Most guys have two left feet.”
“Now I really need a drink.” She smiled at Lydia. “Do you think you could order me a martini, while I hobble after you?”
“Sure. With olives or a twist?”
“Two olives, thanks.” The lie worked.
The moment Lydia turned away and made her way to the bar, Naomi headed in the other direction. She wanted to walk around the dance floor to get to the other side of the club where the exit was located. But she spotted Damian standing only a few yards away from her, talking to another guy dressed as a vampire. Shit! Had he fixed the microphone already and was on his way back?
Naomi quickly turned on her heel and headed onto the dance floor to disappear amidst the crowd. The clubbers danced to a popular eighties pop song, and she tried as best she could to avoid elbows and feet. She was almost at the edge of the dance floor, when somebody to her left gripped her arm.
She spun her head toward him. Damian! How had he gotten to her so quickly when he’d been all the way at the other end?
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” he asked and pulled her into his arms. “’Cause, you and I, we’re not done.” He rocked to the rhythm of the music, his arms snaking underneath her cape to hold her close to him, while the cape hid what he was doing.
“I was just… I thought…” But just like earlier, she couldn’t think. Not with his hands on her, one palming her buttocks, the other stroking up the side of her torso toward her breasts.
“Dance with me,” he murmured seductively.
“You could dance with any woman here,” she protested weakly.
He chuckled and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Why would I do that when I already have what I want in my arms?”
Maybe taking his offer wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, it would give her a chance to find out more about him and whatever was going on at the Mezzanine. Or was her reason more personal? Was the reason for staying that she wanted to let herself go in his arms, if only for a night, just to experience being desired by a gorgeous hunk? But did Damian only want her, because whomever he’d flirted with earlier had perhaps rejected him? Was she too easy?
Damian pressed his cheek to hers. “I enjoyed touching you. And I don’t want the night to end.”
“Damian,” she murmured, her hand on his biceps tightening. “I gave you an out. You could have just let me leave. We both know I can’t compete with the kind of girl I saw you flirt with earlier.”
“You saw me flirt with somebody?”
“Yeah, and why wouldn’t you? I’m sure you get plenty of offers every night. So, really, you don’t have to follow through with this, just because we kissed earlier and it got a little out of hand.”
“So that’s what you’re calling it when you’re a few minutes away from climaxing.”
She jerked back, stunned that he’d been able to read her so well. But of course, she couldn’t admit that. “I wasn’t—”
“You weren’t? I apologize. That means I’ll have to work harder on making sure you come, because I don’t want to be the only one climaxing when we’re in bed together.”
Naomi gasped, though she liked his directness. He made it very clear what he wanted from her. He was different from other men who claimed they wanted to take it slow, only to steamroll her with their next breath.
“You’re very sure of yourself,” she said into his ear. “I hope you can deliver.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“What if it is?” Because suddenly she was eager to explore what he was capable of. It was as if a little devil was sitting on her shoulder, urging her on to do something naughty and brazen.
Damian laughed softly. “Then I’m very grateful that we’re both wearing capes.”
All of a sudden, the music changed, and Naomi realized that Lydia was on stage and had started to sing a love song. The lights dimmed over the dance floor.
“You can’t just… we’re in public,” Naomi protested.
Yet she didn’t stop him when he started caressing her under the cape. “Nobody can see what I’m doing. All you have to do now is to make sure you hold our capes together. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“You’re wicked,” she said, but clutched the fabric and held the capes together. She was certain that anybody looking at them had to suspect that something was happening underneath the capes. Why didn’t Damian seem to care about that? After all, everybody in the club knew who he was. Wouldn’t he ruin his chances with other women by this public show of… well, she wanted to say affection, but that couldn’t be it. She searched for a better word. Public show of, uh, lust. Right. That’s what it was. Had to be.
“Now kiss me,” Damian demanded, and she lifted her face and offered her lips to him. “You really do look like Little Red Riding Hood. A very sinful version of her.”