He said nothing further as she drove the last couple of miles to the hotel. He also didn’t do any work on the computer as his gaze was boring into her the entire drive, her head stiffly facing forward, her eyes on the road.
As tense as she was, she was pretty sure her body would be sore the next day. It was better strength training than three hours in the gym.
When she approached the valet and waited for them to take her keys, she finally looked over at the tense expression on Damien’s face. His profile was to her, thankfully, allowing her to see the perfection of his sculpted chin, the slightly arrogant straight line of his nose, and the fullness of his lips – lips that looked entirely too inviting.
She found herself wondering what they would feel like to kiss. His lips were perfection as were all his features, but his beautifully sculpted lips were full and she could imagine how soft they’d be against her own – how his mouth would open to her and explore her tongue. What else could he do with that tongue…? She quickly snapped out of her short lived revelry, reminding herself how egotistical he was.
She could see why he commanded large crowds of people, how he always got his way. He was easily the most arrogant man she’d ever met, and that was saying a lot, considering she’d grown up with a dictator father.
Where her father inspired fear, though, Damien inspired… almost unnamable emotions. Fear was there, sure, but not fear of him hurting her, more like a fear of him transforming her. She tried telling herself she didn’t want to enter into an affair with him, and she had no illusions about it being nothing more than an affair, but each time she spoke the words in her own head, her body rejected them.
She’d yet to feel what most women her age experience. She’d yet to have a man sink deep inside her, making her body come undone.
For years she’d listened to her sister speak of the different men who panted at her doorstep. Sandy had told her, in explicit detail, what it felt like to have a man worship her body. Sierra had been repulsed at first by her sister’s casual attitude about sex, but for the last few years, that repulsion had turned into slight jealousy.
Sierra just wanted to feel anything other than insecurity, fear or anxiety. She wanted to experience deep, all-consuming passion.
She glanced at the hotel employee as he opened her door, her thoughts interrupted. She may want to feel desire, but she’d never act on it. She was too well trained to ever let herself go like that.
Almost desolately, she thanked the man taking the keys, and silently followed Damien inside the luxurious lobby of their hotel.
When they entered the elevator, some of her earlier irritation returned, and she resolved to finish their show-down. She was bound and determined to get back to the States and spend quality time with her best friend.
She wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Chapter Eleven
Damien and Sierra entered their suite and he immediately moved toward the small kitchen area, flicking on the coffee pot. It was already set up, so all he had to do was push a button to get the dark liquid brewing.
His cell phone rang as he was turning over one of the cups. He looked down, sighing before hitting a button and speaking into the small device. He paced away from her, she assumed, for privacy.
Sierra figured she had time. It looked like he was in for the evening, so she could surely convince him the best course of action was for him to stay and finish his business, and for her to head home.
“I have to go out,” Damien said, startling Sierra with the irritation in his voice.
“What? We have to talk,” she said, not even trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.
“A friend’s in town who I haven’t seen in a while.”
Sierra looked at him in surprise, noting a tiny bit of jealousy trying to creep inside her. It didn’t matter if he went out every night of the week so long as she wasn’t stuck in the dang hotel room.
She sent him a glare, irritated even more by the insolent way he was leaning against the counter. It seemed he really didn’t care about her opinion, like his time was the only thing of value.
She was bound and determined to get her say, even if she had to pin him down to do it.
Damien grabbed his coffee cup then moved out of the kitchen area, leaving Sierra no choice but to either stand there with her mouth gaping, or run after him. She was getting tired of chasing him.
He stepped into his large hotel bedroom and she paused in the doorway, her stomach once again tightening. It felt wrong to follow him in there, like she’d be crossing a taboo line – inviting something she truly wasn’t ready to give.
“We can talk later, Sierra. I need to shower and change,” Damien said as he began removing his shirt.
Sierra was grateful his impressive back was to her, because her eyes drank in the sight of all that golden flesh, his muscles tightening with the upward movement of pulling the shirt over his head. His arms flexed, making those strange sensations start emerging in her core. She forgot how to speak, suddenly feeling paralyzed – completely rooted to the spot.
His hands reached down to his pants, the sound of his zipper falling echoing in the otherwise silent room. Sierra really hoped her quickened breathing wasn’t as loud as she thought it was, because she could feel herself panting as she drank him in.
As her eyes studied his body, she suddenly realized she was now looking at his stomach, not his toned back. Her eyes quickly darted up, colliding with Damien’s.
His mouth twisted in the most seductive smile she’d ever seen a man use before, and she felt her knee’s shake. With momentous effort, she tore her gaze away from his, took a few shaky steps to his bed and plopped down on the end of it. She felt like she’d just run a marathon, the way her breathing was ragged, sweat was beading on her brow, and her stomach was churning.
Without saying anything, he moved his long, elegant fingers to the top of his hips and gripped the fabric of his trousers, then slowly started sliding the pants down, taking his underwear with him.
When she realized he had zero qualms about stripping naked in front of her, she managed to rip her gaze away, taking a sudden and fascinated interest in his bedside lamp.
“Enjoying the view, Sierra?” he asked, his voice cascading over her like a cool waterfall on a hot day. She felt her face heat with embarrassment; mortified he found her awkwardness with the situation so shocking.
She really wished she could just turn, look at him from head to toe with a dismissive glance, and come up with a great retort.