Bound to the calloway's heir

NOAH.

I took a long sip of the warm coffee, finishing what was left in the cup. After swallowing it, I crushed the cup until it was hard to use as a recyclable material, before tossing it into the huge trash can five feet away. The air was stale, filled with the carbon waste of the smoke that seeped from the nearby chimney.

I reached for my handkerchief, wiped my fingers clean, then pulled my face cap further over my face to shield it from any curious onlooker. The last thing I wanted was to be identified out here. I wasn't running from the press, but my brothers. They would want to know why I was downtown, and I wasn't about to be laughed at one more time. I hated the dismissive manner in which Damian had waved off my question about the lady I met at his club, as if I were hallucinating. Not that it helped not to know her name either.

Lila's face had haunted me for the last week. Her sharp cheekbones, her eyes, and alluring lips all refused to fade. I couldn't shake it, no matter how many reports I skimmed or meetings I sat through. So, I did what I always did when obsession took hold of me. I acted.

I would easily have sent for one of the artists on Atlas' payroll, but that would mean involving Zane and the other brothers. Instead, I drove downtown to hire a sketch artist who had received a great recommendation online. And I fed him every detail I could recall of Lila. He didn't ask questions, he merely listened with his pencil in hand as he scratched away at his pad, his eyes flicking up occasionally to gauge my certainty. When I was done describing, I excused myself to get some air outside while he completed his sketch.

I glanced at my wristwatch and noted I had been standing out there for thirty-five minutes. I crossed my right leg, shifting my weight as I leaned against the pole. I had barely done that when the artist popped out of the door, beckoning me inside.

I hastily made my way into the shop, the sketch stared back at me. I couldn't believe my eyes. He had sketched it to look so close to the real thing it sent a chill down my spine.

"Thank you, this is good," I said, as I reached into my wallet, grabbed a few dollar bills that were more than double what he had charged.

"Please call again," he said, beaming at me as he tucked the notes into his pants pocket,

"You have to keep this between us. I will not appreciate you breathing a word of this to anyone."

"I totally understand you. Thanks." His nod was curt, and I left with the sketch folded tight in my jacket pocket.

When I drove back to my office in Atlas, I fed the sketch into our advanced facial recognition system. As the COO, I had access to data most governments could only dream of; we have databases that cross-referenced faces and aliases from the dark corners of the world. While the system hummed,, scanning through the faces, I turned my attention to my other task, which was tracing the location of the missing shipment. It had vanished somewhere between Shanghai and LA. My brothers were counting on me to handle it, especially with Liam and Ethan out of town. I wasn't about to let them down. Not again.

My phone buzzed. Zane's name flashed on the screen. I sighed, picking up.

"Noah, where the hell are you?" His voice carried that mix of irritation that only an older brother could pull off. "Groomsmen fitting was an hour ago."

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Work's got me buried, man. I'll reschedule."

"Buried, huh? Or avoiding?" Zane's tone sharpened. He knew me too well.

"Work," I said flatly, cutting him off. "I'll handle it."

"You'd, better, Sienna would happily grill you all over." He chuckled.

"Got ya" I said, and I hung up before he could push further. The truth was, I didn't have time for fittings or small talk. Not with Lila or whoever she was lurking in my head, and not with a shipment missing that could tank our quarter.

The facial recognition system pinged, notifying me it had found a match. My heart kicked up a gear as I leaned forward, my eyes locked on the screen while I checked out the profile of the name it had matched with the sketch.

"Oh my days," I whispered, as it stared back at me. Harper West. Journalist. Freelance. Her bylines appeared in high-profile outlets, including the Times and the Guardian, as well as some gritty investigative pieces on the dark web. My stomach twisted instantly.

Lila was a freaking journalist! A journalist sniffing around Atlas wasn't just trouble, but a five-alarm fire blaring off. And Lila was not just a random nosy journalist wanting a piece on Atlas but one clearly digging into the cartel. Harper West wasn't just a face in my head anymore. She was a high-level threat.

I dug deeper into her profile, my fingers flying across the keyboard relentlessly. Her digital footprint was meticulous, but trust me to find even the minute detail about her now that she was no longer my one-night stand Lila. By the time I had finished digging into her activities for the past month, I discovered that I wasn't her only target. She attended a gala last week with Audrey, our head of PR. Seeing a picture of Harper, all sharp smiles with her arms linked with Audrey's, like they were old friends, almost made me jump out of my seat with fright. She was watching us and circling, looking for cracks in the empire. Why hadn't I seen it then? Why hadn't I clocked her the second she walked into that lounge?

"Fuck the booze!" I screamed, banging a clenched fist into the desk. I was tempted to call the brothers and inform them that we were being marked, but I decided against it. I had to keep it to myself for the time being. Telling my brothers would only spark chaos, and I needed control to handle this alone.

I copied out her office address and left the office. An hour later, I was tailing her, yet I kept my distance. I needed to know what she was up to and if she had dug up enough on the cartel to raise an alarm. Lila...no Harper was headed into a bar, one known among the cartel gangs for gathering intel.

"What the hell was she doing here? Lila."

I slipped inside, and after seeing Harper sitting at the bar, her back to me, nursing a drink, her eyes scanning the room, I took a seat in a shadowed corner, making sure my cap was low enough to shield my face while I watched her.

She was good in the way she carried herself; subtle movements, all calculated, but I could tell she was waiting for someone. Was she meeting a source? A cartel contact? Or was she just fishing, hoping to catch a lead?

I placed an order for some drinks, not that I was thirsty, but to keep attention off me, since the waiter was starting to glare at me inquisitively. When the waiter brought it over, I handed him an extra tip, and he left a happy man, focusing his attention on other patrons.

I was starting to rethink my decision to trail Harper when a bulky-built guy slid into the stool beside her. His cobra tattoo ran through half of his shoulder to his neck. I tensed, my hand brushing the concealed Glock at my hip, but what surprised me mostly was that Harper didn't flinch, even though I could see her shoulders stiffen, and her fingers tightened around her glass.

The thug leaned in, his voice low but carrying enough for me to catch fragments..

"...stick your nose where it doesn't belong..."

She responded just as sharply, but I couldn't make out the words. Then his hand clamped onto her wrist too roughly, and before I could think, I was out of my seat, covering the distance between our seats quickly.

He didn't see me coming, and I used that to my advantage. I grabbed his shoulder, yanking him back hard enough to send his stool crashing. His head snapped toward me, eyes wide with surprise, then narrowing with rage.

"Walk away," I yelled down at him.

He sneered, shoving to his feet. He was big, but I'd faced bigger. "You her bodyguard or something?"

I didn't answer, but I rained down my fist on his jaw, sending him staggering. He swung back, wildly, and I ducked, driving my elbow into his gut, then slammed my knee into his face as he doubled over. He hit the floor hard, blood trickling from his nose. The bar went quiet with every eye on us, but no one moved.

I straightened, my chest heaving, and turned to Harper. She was on her feet, her eyes blazing at me with defiance. "I didn't need your help," she snapped.

I stepped closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume. "You're welcome," I said, "Next time, I'll let him break your wrist."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but those eyes didn't waver. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded.

I smirked, leaning in just enough to make her tense. "Someone who knows you're in over your head, Harper West."

Her eyes widened enough to tell me I'd hit a nerve. But she recovered fast, lifting her chin. "You've been digging into me. That's cute. But you don't scare me."

"You should be scared," I said. "You're poking at things that'll get you killed. Drop it."

She laughed, the sound sent a jolt through me. "You think you can just waltz in, play hero, and tell me how to do my job? I don't take orders from strangers."

I held her gaze, my pulse thudding in my ears. She was infuriatingly stubborn. But there was something else about her pulling at me. "Walk away, Harper," I said, softer this time, but with an edge. "Or next time, I won't be there to pull you out."

I turned, leaving her standing there. I didn't look back, but I felt her watching me. My hands were still shaking as I stepped into the night, the cool air doing nothing to calm the storm in my chest.

֍

I had told Harper to stay away. But I couldn't stay away. Four hours later, I found myself outside her office again, waiting in my car. The window blind was on, but I knew she was in there. I told myself it was about protecting Atlas and about keeping her from blowing up everything we'd built. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. I needed to know why she was doing this, what drove her to chase a story that could end her life. Money? Or mere foolishness.

I slipped inside the office and was appalled to find the space a mess. Papers were strewn on every desk, she had pinned photos and notes to a corkboard, her laptop humming softly. I scanned the board, my eyes catching on a photo of our company, Atlas's name with three question marks scrawled in red marker.

The door creaked behind me. I spun, hand on my Glock, but it was her. Harper stood in the doorway, a takeout coffee in one hand, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto me.

"Breaking and entering now?" she said. "You're not as subtle as you think."

I relaxed my grip on the gun, stepping away from her desk. "You're not as careful as you think. That place is a deathtrap."

She set her coffee down, crossing her arms. "What do you want, mystery man? Another cryptic warning?"

I hesitated. The truth was, I didn't know what I wanted. To stop her? To understand her? To pull her closer or push her away? My mind was a tangle, and her presence wasn't helping. "I want to know why you're doing this," I said finally. "Why are you risking your life for a story?"

Her eyes softened, just for a second, before the steel returned. "Because someone has to. People deserve to know the truth about your precious Atlas."

I flinched at her words, but I kept my face neutral. "The truth gets people killed. You included."

She stepped closer, close enough that I could see the flecks of fire in her eyes. "Maybe. But I'd rather die chasing the truth than live hiding from it."

"Look," I said. "I get it. You want to make a difference or make money. But you're not just taking on the cartel. You're taking on people like me. And I don't lose."

Her lips quirked in a smile. "You're not as scary as you think, you know. I've seen worse."

I laughed softly. "You haven't seen anything yet."

She tilted her head, studying me. "Why do you care what I do? What's it to you if I get myself killed?"

The question caught me off guard. I didn't have an answer, not one I could say out loud. Because the truth was, I didn't know why I cared. Why was I standing in her office at midnight instead of letting her crash and burn?

Instead, I said, "Maybe I just don't like loose ends."

She smirked, stepping back, "Well, I'm not your loose end to tie up. But... thanks. For the bar. You didn't have to do that."

I shrugged, my throat tight. "It was my treat for your services in the hotel. Don't make a habit of it."

For a moment, she merely stood there, ogling at me. Then she grabbed her coffee, took a sip, and said, "You know, for a guy who breaks into offices and beats up thugs, you're not half bad."

I raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at my lips. "And for an escort turned nosy journalist, you're not half bad either."

She laughed. I turned to go, but her voice stopped me.

"Hey," she said, quieter now. "I am not the only one chasing your folks."

I paused, my hand on the door. "I see," I said, glancing back at her. "You can quit the story, for a start."

Her smile was small, but it lingered in my head long after I left. She was tougher than I had assumed her to be. Tough yet sexy enough to stay unforgettable.

HARVEY.

"Harvey! You are mischievous."

Audrey's laugh echoed in my ears as we stepped out of the gala, the chatters of the other attendees fading behind us. Two weeks. That's all it took for her to feel like the sister I never had, her warmth slipping past the cold walls I'd built over years of hostile foster homes and lonely nights. If I weren't here to dig into her company, to peel back the layers of their billion-dollar tech empire, I might've let myself believe we could be real friends. But the truth was, I needed this story. My mortgage was due, and only a big win of another career-defining exposé would keep the roof over my head.

My mind drifted to Noah. He'd taken down that thug with a brutal efficiency that should've scared me, but instead, my pulse had raced for reasons I didn't want to name. Fear, sure. But attraction, too. His warning to drop my investigation into Atlas had been laced with a threat, but those eyes of his held something else. It made me wonder if he was protecting more than just his company's secrets.

Audrey hugged me goodbye, her perfume lingering as she slid into her car. "Once I sorted out this new vacant role. I will have enough time to unwind. Call me tomorrow, Harper. We'll do lunch." Her smile was bright, genuine, and it twisted something in my gut.

"Sure thing." I nodded, waving as her taillights disappeared, then turned to my own sedan. Alone now, I let my thoughts spiral.

Noah knew who I was and that I was digging into Atlas. And why did he care enough to step in? The questions gnawed at me, but so did the lead Audrey had unknowingly dropped earlier about a former Atlas employee who might crack open the truth about Atlas and its ties to the cartel. I had looked up the address, ready to chase for my information.

I drove through the city with Noah's warning echoed in my head that I was in over my head. I gripped the wheel tighter. Maybe I was. But I'd been in over my head my whole life as I shuffled through foster homes, fighting for scraps of stability. I wasn't backing down.

The parking lot was half-empty when I drove in. I scanned the lot, my pulse ticking up. I parked, my eyes flicking to my rearview mirror. I grabbed my bag, tucked my pepper spray into my pocket, and stepped out.

Inside, I knocked on the room on the left with the number on the address. Nothing. I knocked a few more times before my phone buzzed a notification. I reached into my bag for my phone and swiped over the screen to see it was a text from an unknown number.

With shaky fingers, I opened it and read out the contents. "Stop digging, or you won't like what comes next."

A cold threat that sent a shiver down my spine. I deleted it and set the phone in my bag. This wasn't the first time a threat text popped up whenever I was chasing a story.

I knocked on the door again, and this time it was flung open, and a wiry man in a faded jacket appeared. His eyes were darting nervously before he stepped aside, making room for me to come in.

"You Harper?" His voice was low, like he hadn't slept in days.

I nodded, leaning forward. "You said you had something on Atlas. Talk."

He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "I worked in their logistics division. Two years. I saw things off the books. I traced one to a warehouse in Tijuana. Cartel territory."

"You have proof?"

He nodded and walked to a table stand. He picked up an envelope and brought it to me. "This is all I got before they fired me. Said I was 'unreliable.' But I know what I saw."

I tucked the paper into my bag. "Why'd you trust me with this?" I asked, studying him.

He shrugged, his eyes hollow. "You're the only one asking the right questions."

A phone rang in the room, and my source tensed. "You have got to go," he muttered. Before I could talk, he went to the door and gestured for me to leave.

"Thank you," I said, stepping out. He didn't answer as he yanked the door closed after me. My instincts screamed to move as fast as possible, and I did, running out of the building. There was an SUV in the lot when I stepped into the garage outside, its engine rumbling. I walked to my car, my hand on the pepper spray. The SUV's headlights flicked on, blinding me for a second. Then it peeled out of the lot, tires screeching. My breath caught, but I didn't wait to see if it would circle back. I slid into my car, locked the doors, and gunned it out of there. A car appeared behind me, driving too close and in an aggressive manner.

I noted it wasn't the SUV, I took a sharp turn, then another, weaving through side streets. The car followed, matching my moves. Noah's warning rang louder now, his voice in my head. I cursed under my breath, my hands on the wheel. I didn't know if this was his doing or someone else's, but either way, I was in trouble.

I spotted a busy intersection ahead, lights and traffic offering cover. I floored it, cutting through a yellow light just as it turned red. The car behind hesitated, then stopped, blocked by oncoming traffic. I didn't look back, didn't stop until I was miles away. They wanted me scared? Fine. But I wasn't stopping.

֍

The next morning, I hit the gym, needing to burn off the adrenaline still coursing through me. My gym buddy, Joe, was already there, his hair swinging as he pounded the treadmill. He spotted me, waving me over with a grin. "You look like hell, Harper. Rough night?"

I forced a laugh, stepping onto the treadmill beside him. "You could say that." My muscles ached, but the rhythm of running steadied me. Joe was the closest thing I had to a friend outside of Audrey, and even that was new. Growing up, I'd learned to keep people at arm's length, hostile foster homes didn't exactly breed trust. But Joe's easy chatter, his no-nonsense vibe, made it hard to stay closed off.

"Spill," he said, slowing his pace to match mine. "You've got that look again."

I hesitated, my eyes on the digital display. "Remember I said I was working on a story," I said finally "Big one. You know Atlas Group. They're... not what they seem."

Joe's eyebrows shot up. "The tech giant? What'd you find?"

I shook my head, my hair brushing my shoulders. "Enough to know I'm on the right track. But someone's trying to scare me off. Followed me last night. Got a threatening call, too."

Joe stopped his treadmill and turned to face me. "Harper, that's dangerous. But if you need to publish what you've got, get it out there before they come for you."

I slowed my pace, meeting his eyes. "I can't. Not yet. It's not enough. I need the whole truth, not just pieces."

He frowned, his hands on his hips. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that? At least tell me you've got someone watching your back."

Noah's face flashed in my mind again. "Not exactly," I said, my voice quieter. "There's this guy who is tied to Atlas. Warned me to back off. But he also saved me from getting roughed up the other night. I don't know what to make of him."

Joe's eyes narrowed. "Sounds like he's playing both sides. Be careful, Harper. Guys like that? They're trouble."

I nodded, but my thoughts were already spiraling. "Let's burn it off," I said, picking up a dumbbell to work with.

"About time," Joe cheered, picking up his pace on the treadmill. Joe was right about one thing, I needed to get my piece out before they killed the story. I was going to start my draft the second I got back to my apartment and have it published during their threat.

֍

I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The hairs on my neck prickled after I left the gym. It was late, and I needed air to clear my head. I grabbed my jacket and headed to the roof of my building.

I heard footsteps coming from the stairwell. My hand went to my pocket, reaching for the pepper spray still there, but before I could turn, a voice cut through the dark.

"Harper."

I froze, recognizing the voice. Noah. He stepped into the moonlight, his eyes glinting with something unreadable about him that made my skin hum.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded,

He stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, casually. "Checking on you. After last night, I figured you would do something stupid."

I laughed. "Stupid? Like chasing a story that could bring down Atlas? Or stupid, like trusting a guy who breaks into my office and follows me around?"

His jaw tightened, but his eyes didn't leave mine. "You're still digging even after the chase today. You don't learn, do you?"

"How do you know about the car chase?"

He didn't answer, just held my gaze, "You're tailing me. Watching me. Why? What's Atlas hiding that's worth all this?"

He took another step, close enough now that I could feel the heat in him, smell the faint cedar of his cologne. "You think you're after the truth, Harper, but you're chasing a death wish. You don't know what you're up against."

"Then tell me," I shot back, my voice rising. "Tell me what's so dangerous that you're stalking and threatening me."

"I didn't threaten you," he cut in, "That wasn't me."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Then who did or still is?"

He looked away, "Just drop it, Harper. For your own sake."

I stepped closer, "I don't run from the truth, Atlas is dirty, and I'm going to prove it."

His eyes snapped back to mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw. "And it's going to get you killed."

"Then why do you care?" I asked, searching his face. "Why are you here, Noah?"

He didn't answer right away. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing my arm, "Maybe I don't want to see you get hurt."

My breath caught, and for a second, I let myself feel the weight of his words. "I can take care of myself," I said,

He smiled, "I know you can. It doesn't mean you have to."

"Go home, Noah," I said finally, stepping back, breaking the moment. "I've got work to do."

He nodded, his eyes still on me, like he was memorizing every detail. "Be careful, Harper. I mean it."

He turned and disappeared into the stairwell, leaving me alone with my racing heart. I didn't know what to make of him, or any of it. But one thing was clear: I was going to publish the story the second I finished the draft.

DAMIAN.

I sighed with impatience as I kept my eyes fixed on the studio's door, like the building was magically going to vanish before my eyes. Ava's modeling shoot was supposed to wrap an hour ago, but she was still inside, probably laughing with those unbothered colleagues of hers. She should know better than to hang around after her shoot.

I stepped out of the car, the evening air cool against my skin, and leaned against the hood. The studio door swung open, and Ava stepped out, her hair catching the last of the studio light's glow behind her. She was in a loose sweater and jeans now, the kind of casual that made her look like she'd stepped out of a dream. But she wasn't alone. She was chatting away with a colleague, her laughter making me jealous of what was so funny. The guy stood too close, his smile all teeth and charm. I clenched my jaw, getting pissed as he whispered something to her, and she tossed her head back, laughing again. The sound twisted something in my chest, one I knew I didn't like at all.

"Damian!" Ava's voice snapped me out of my haze. She waved, breaking away from him and jogging toward me. Her bag bounced against her hip, and her smile was so bright I got lost staring. "You're early."

"Am I?" I said, I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, trying to shake the image of the guy's hand grazing her elbow. "Looked like you were having fun."

Her brow quirked, and I could tell she had caught the edge in my tone. "Jake? It's just work, Damian. You know that." She stopped a foot away, close enough that I could smell her perfume.

"Yeah," I muttered, opening the passenger door for her. "Let's go."

She slid into the seat, her eyes lingering on me. I didn't meet them. I couldn't. Not when my head was a mess of jealousy and things I couldn't say.

The drive to her apartment was quiet, as I intentionally let the radio hum some of the pop songs she liked. She tapped her fingers against the window, her nails clicking softly. I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind was on her, taking in how her sweater slipped off one shoulder, on the way she hummed under her breath, oblivious to the war raging inside me. I wanted to ask her about Jake, to ask if there was anything more. But what right did I have? She had the right to warm up to any guy; I had made my choice, and perhaps to my dismay, she was making hers too.

When we got to her place, she didn't let me off the hook like I'd expected. I had planned to drop her off, make sure the locks were secure, and head out. Do my job. Keep my distance. But as I turned to leave, her hand caught my wrist.

"Stay," she said. "Just for a bit."

I should have said no and pulled away, perhaps mumbled some excuse about checking the perimeter. But the way her eyes were on me made my excuses crumble. "Fine," I said, stepping inside. "Just for a bit."

Beaming her smile at me, she walked to the mini-bar and retrieved a bottle of champagne. She poured us both a drink. I took the glass she offered, our fingers brushing for a split second. My pulse kicked up, and I cursed myself for it.

We settled on the couch as we sipped the drink silently. She tucked her legs under her, facing me, her glass cradled in both hands. The silence wasn't awkward, but it was oddly weird. It was loaded with things neither of us were saying. I took a sip, then another, trying to drown the thoughts clawing at me.

"So," she said, breaking the quiet. "You going to tell me why you looked like you wanted to punch Jake earlier?"

I froze, the glass halfway to my mouth. She'd seen it, then. Of course, she had. Ava always saw through me, even when I wished she wouldn't. I set the glass down, buying time. "Didn't like the way he was looking at you," I admitted. "Too... familiar."

She laughed, a soft, throaty sound that sent heat curling through me. "Damian, it's just work. He's a photographer. He's supposed to look at me." She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You're not jealous, are you?"

The question hit as precisely as she had wanted. I wanted to deny it by laughing it off, but the truth was burning in my chest. "Maybe," I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it. Her eyes widened.

"There's nothing between us," she said. "You know that, right?"

I nodded, my throat tight. "Yeah. I know." And I did. I believed her. But believing her didn't erase the ache of the part of me that wanted to pull her close and claim her as mine.

We drank more, the wine loosening the edges of my restraint. She shifted closer, her knee brushing mine, and the contact sent a jolt through me. I let my hand rest on the couch between us, inches from hers.

"Damian," she said. "Do we have a chance?"

The question landed like a blow, stealing my breath. I'd known it was coming, someday, but I wasn't ready. Not now, not with her so close, her scent wrapping around me like a memory. I stared at the wine in my glass, the dark liquid catching the lamplight. "You know why not," I said finally.

"That's not the whole truth," she pressed, leaning forward. Her hair fell over one shoulder, and I fought the urge to tuck it back. "Would you, for once, stop with the excuses and give me an answer, Damian?"

"I am scared," I admitted, the words tearing free like they'd been caged too long. "Scared of how much I wanted you. Scared of what it'd do to me if I let myself have you and then lost you."

I looked away, clenching my hands into fists. "I think pushing you away is the only way to keep you safe. From me."

She was quiet for a long moment, and I braced myself for her anger. But when she spoke, her voice was gentle, almost tender. "You idiot," she said, and there was a smile in her words. "You don't get to decide what's safe for me."

I looked at her then, and the sight of her eyes, soft and parted lips undid me. She set her glass down and slid closer, her hand finding mine. I didn't pull away.

"I'm not that girl anymore, Damian," she said. "I'm not fragile. I don't need you to protect me from yourself."

My heart pounded in a wild, desperate rhythm. "Ava," I started, but the words died as she leaned in, her breath warm against my cheek.

"Hmmm," she whispered, her hand tightening on mine. "But what about you? What about what you want?"

I wanted to tell her it didn't matter, that my wants had no place here. But her eyes held mine, and the truth spilled out. "You," I said. "I've always wanted you."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the world stopped. Then she moved, closing the distance between us, her lips finding mine in a fierce kiss. Her warm mouth tasted like coming home. I kissed her back, my hands sliding to her waist, pulling her closer.

My fingers tightened around her neck, then I moved fast. When my mouth slammed into hers, she instinctively pressed her free hand against my chest. Either to push me away or pull me closer, I couldn't tell at that moment. When her tongue sweeps into my mouth, all common sense vanishes from my mind.

Having Ava kiss me at that moment was the last thing I expected, and it was too overwhelming to process anything.

Her tongue massaged mine in a way that made tingles engulf my entire body. Her lips nipped at mine, leaving me completely breathless. Just as quickly as she initiated the kiss, she pulled away from me. She lifted her hand slowly to my face until her fingers brushed over my tingling lips.

When we pulled apart, her forehead rested against mine, her breath uneven. "Damian," she murmured, her voice trembling with something that mirrored the ache in my chest. "Don't push me away again."

I swallowed hard, my hands still on her, grounding me. "I won't," I said, and it was a vow, not just to her but to myself. "I'll keep you safe, Ava. From everything, even me."

"Show me, Damian," she winked at me, leaning further away.

That was a challenge, one I had no intention of not winning. Desire bleeds through my veins, and it makes me grab hold of her hips. I lift her from her feet, and as my mouth takes her prisoner, I stalk to her bed, where I slam her down onto the couch.

A shocked breath explodes from her, and I drink it like the sweet nectar it is.

When my body covered hers, Ava's hands pressed against my shoulders. I grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms down on either side of her head, and she had no choice but to spread her legs so she could accommodate my hips.

I fucking feasted on her mouth, my mind quickly clouding with a hunger I had never felt before. It was fucking insatiable and dangerous. Dangerous because this woman already had a hold on me. I couldn't shake. She was beneath my skin and crawling into my chest where my heart was supposed to be.

My tongue lashes against hers, memorizing her mouth and her sweet, sweet fucking taste. My hands move down her arms and over her sides. When my palms found her ass, I rubbed my aching cock against the scorching heat coming from her pussy. We both groaned, and I almost lost my fucking mind.

The kiss turned wild, and with zero control, I started to thrust against her pussy, my hard-on rubbing her clit through the fabric.

"Damian," she moaned into my mouth. She took her hands to my jaw, and then she started to kiss me back with so much passion that stars exploded behind my eyelids.

My hips continued to move, and I rubbed her pussy raw, my cock fucking desperate for every bit of friction I could get. When Ava lifted her hips, and she began to meet my thrusts, gasps spilled from her lips. "Da...Da...Damian."

Her body strained against mine, and I broke the kiss to watch her face as she came apart beneath me. She looked fucking angelic, her swollen lips parted, and her eyes clouded with pleasure. There's no stopping me as I move down her body. Grabbing her jeans, I ripped them down her legs.

"Take off your sweater," I ordered, my tone way too fucking harsh with impatience. My eyes burned over every inch of her skin as she carried out the order, and when she lay naked on the white couch, something shifted in my chest. She's fucking perfect.

I shove my sweatpants down, and Ava's eyes widen when they land on my cock. She remembered it. The words drifted somewhere in the back of my mind as I crawled back over her sweet little body that was trembling from the pleasure she had just experienced.

The thought fleeted as I pressed a kiss to the valley between her breasts before my mouth found her nipple. I sucked it into my mouth while my hands feasted on her soft, as fuck skin. My touch grew rougher as my palms burned a path from her sides to her breasts. I kissed my way up her throat before taking her mouth again.

Ava wrapped her arms around my neck, and when I felt her fingers twist in my hair, my body shuddered with satisfaction. My hands moved down, and I positioned my oversensitive cock at her soaked entrance. Fuck, it's been too long.

I freed her mouth and locked eyes with her. As I stared down at Ava, her hands slipped over my shoulders and down my chest before moving back up to settle on the sides of my neck. I should be gentler. I should ask if she's ready.

There's a lot I should do, but I have zero self-restraint when it comes to Ava. I braced a forearm beside her head, and my free hand gripped her hip tightly. I thrust again, managing to force myself a couple of inches into her wet heat.

I felt her breasts against my chest as I thrusted deeper, and this time, she clenched her jaw to keep from making a sound.

I braced her leg over my ass to open her wider. When I slammed into her, she pulled her arms away from me to cover her mouth as a cry was torn from her.

"Breathe," I grind the word out.

She gasps, and I take hold of her wrists and pin them on either side of her head. I kissed a tear away from her temple, and not able to keep still for much longer, I pushed an arm beneath her and held her to me.

"Hmmm," I growled right before I started to move.

The pleasure of being inside her becomes an inferno that engulfs my entire being. I felt like a possessed man as I hammered into her, and I couldn't control the pace at all.

Fuck.

I heard the sounds of our bodies colliding as mine claims hers. I heard her gasps and pain-filled whimpers, and I sealed my mouth to hers because each one belongs to me.