Play My Game (Stark Trilogy, #3.7)(13)

Since I’m not sure what to say to that, I just smile and flip the switch on the elevator, allowing the door to open.

She pauses on the threshold. “You know, under different circumstances, you and I might have been friends.”

And although I never would have believed it before, in that moment, I think she might be right.

It’s an interesting detente, and I’m amused when her parting gesture is an air kiss.

Then I place my card key against the pad and let the elevator whisk me away, knowing full well the storm that awaits me upstairs.





Chapter 5


Damien is there the moment the elevator doors open, and before I even have time to draw a breath, he has taken my hand and pulled me out. I gasp, only to cry out again a moment later when he slams me against the foyer wall, stretching my arms above my head as his mouth finds mine and his body presses hard against me.

“Christ,” he says, when he breaks the kiss. “Oh, Christ, Nikki.” His hands are all over me—cupping my breasts, following the line of my waist, sliding hard between my legs so that I grind down against him and moan with arousal and a wildly desperate need.

“Yes,” I say, though he has asked me no question. The word is an invitation. An admission. An acknowledgment. I want his touch—I want everything. And I need it, dear lord, how I need it right now.

Most important, I know that he needs it, too. He needs to take me. To claim me.

He needs to bury himself deep inside me and know that no matter how f*cked up the outside world becomes, this passion between us will never fade. That I will always be there for him, whenever and however he wants.

“Yes,” I say again, even as he undresses me, not bothering with buttons or zippers but yanking me out of my skirt and ripping my blouse open so that only seconds pass before I feel his mouth close over my breast.

He is wild and hot and though I know the source of this—though I know that this intense need stems directly from all the shit that has been piled upon us—I cannot deny that I love the way he is making me feel.

“Tell me,” he says, breathing hard as he cups my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, because I understand the foundation of his question. This is not only about Damien regaining control, it is about him giving me what I need—wild, hard, fast sex. Intense. Hot.

Pleasure and pain—but right now, it is not the pain that I need.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I swear I’m fine.” An odd laugh bubbles out of me. “I didn’t even think of it,” I realize. “I never thought of a blade, never imagined its weight in my hand or the sensation of metal slicing through flesh. Damien,” I murmur, and my heart is beating fast as the full realization of what I am saying washes over me. “I didn’t think of it at all. All I thought of was you. All I wanted was to get to you.”

It is a big thing, and Damien knows it. Before, I’ve fought the urge to cut, using him as a weapon. This time, I didn’t even crave the blade, only the man.

I crave him still, and when he looks at me with heat and wonder in his eyes, I pull him close and beg him to please, please f*ck me. “I need you,” I say. “Only you. And I know that you need me.” I brush my lips over his ears. “Anything you want, Damien. Anything you need.”

I see the heat in his eyes, but I am unprepared when he lashes out, slams his hand so hard against the wall behind me that it shakes. “Goddammit.” He backs away from me, as if horrified that he brought violence so close to me, and then kicks over the coffee table, sending all the magazines tumbling.

“Damien!” I go to him and catch his wrists. “Damien, talk to me.”

He pulls me hard against him, then presses my head to his chest, his fingers twined in my hair. I can hear the beat of his heart, fast and steady, and I want to kiss him all over. Kiss him and make it better, even though this is something even the most fervent of kisses won’t fix.

“All I want to do is keep you safe from them,” he finally says. “These goddamn vultures—and yet they’re everywhere. They’ve followed us from day one. Before we were even married. On our honeymoon. Now this.”

“These pictures aren’t about me,” I say.

“The hell they’re not.”

I swallow, because I fear that he is right. Didn’t Carmela even hint at that very thing?

“All I want is to f*cking protect you.”

His words reverberate through me, and I pull my head back so that I can see his face. “You do. Christ, Damien, how can you not know that you do? I’m safe with you. I’m whole with you.”

He stares down at me, his dual-colored eyes so wild that I fear the storm will consume us both.

Then something seems to shatter in him and he kisses me hard before pulling me close. “You’re my blood and my breath, Nikki. You’re my life. I will always fight for you. I will always come to you. And I will happily destroy anyone who tries to hurt you.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“I need you.” His voice is raw, and I can feel the heat rolling off him. “Christ, Nikki, I need you now.”

“Yes.” It’s all I say. It’s enough.

He takes me to the window and puts my hands on the glass. “Close your eyes,” he says, as he starts to ease kisses down my spine.