Damien (Slater Brothers #5)(53)

“I think I have more control than my dumb twin brother has.”

I snorted. “You think so, huh?”

“I know so.”

With a grin, I turned back to Barbara to see what she was doing, and I gasped.

“Damien!” I gave his waist a squeeze. “Look.”

I pointed at Barbara’s litter tray, the one she was currently using.

“Good girl,” Damien said, and without looking up at him, I knew he was smiling.

“I think we just imparted wisdom.”

Damien snorted, then when Barbara was finished, he put her back into her crate. I felt bad about putting her in there, but Damien said that Alec said that kittens don’t like large spaces that are new to them, so putting her in her crate would relax her and help her adjust. I hoped to God he was right because it broke my heart to look at her through the little barred door like she was a prisoner.

“Could you not hear her in your room earlier?”

I shook my head at Damien’s question.

He huffed as he straightened to his full height of hu-fucking-mongous.

“I heard her in the spare room,” he said. “There is nothing wrong with her lungs, I can tell you that much.”

I reached for his hand. “Maybe you should come and sleep in me room with me then?”

His eyes snapped to mine, his surprise plain as day if his open-mouthed expression was anything to go by.

“We won’t get in trouble,” I assured him, seeing the question in his eyes. “We’ll just sleep.”

Damien looked pained, but when I tugged on his hand, he offered no resistance and walked out of the kitchen with me, flipping the light off as we went. I smiled to myself. I felt in control of something for the first time in a very long time, and it felt good. I wasn’t scared to sleep in the same bed as Damien. I was excited.

“Do you always wear so much to bed?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “I get cold easily.”

My room was pitch black when we entered, and I knew where my bed was, but Damien didn’t, and he walked directly into the base.

“Fuck a duck!”

I laughed as I climbed up onto the bed, pushing back the blanket.

“Think that’s funny, do you?”

I screeched when the bed dipped and an arm hooked itself around me, while another hand ran up and down my side, tickling me without mercy. I screamed, laughed, and begged Damien to stop, but he didn’t. He vibrated with laughter, and only stopped when I fell onto my back, and he found himself leaning over me with his hand now on my bare waist since my t-shirt rode up during the tickle assault. We both went quiet then. We couldn’t see each other because the room was coated in darkness, but I was hyper aware of him.

“You smell good.”

I licked my lips. “I do?”

“You do.”

I could hear my heart beating.

“Damien, we can’t get into trouble.”

“No trouble,” he murmured. “I just want to touch you. Can I touch you, please?”

The urge to beg him to do just that was overwhelming.

“But … but …”

“Yes, I want to touch your butt, too.”

I shoved him, and he lightly chuckled.

“Relax,” he whispered, lowering his face enough for me to feel his hot breath on my skin. “Let me make you feel good, baby.”

Baby.

I loved hearing him call me pet names, but that aside, I was apprehensive.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I murmured. “Remember what we said about buildin’ a better connection and a trust between us before we get intimate?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Heaven help me, but yeah, I do.”

“Then trust me not to overstep,” Damien said. “Trust me just to touch your body and give you pleasure.”

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I wasn’t when we walked in ’ere, but I am now.”

“I know, freckles,” Damien almost purred. “But letting go of that fear for a little while will help you get used to me in this capacity. We’re partners now, and I have to work on getting your guard down, and this moment between us will help. I know it will.”

“O-okay.”

“Good girl.”

I jumped when his hand slid from my waist and came down to my stomach. I froze, wondering if he would say anything about feeling my stomach. I knew I wasn’t fat, but I didn’t look like my friends. I could afford to lose the twenty-five pounds I’d gained over the last couple of years, and I was very aware of that fact with Damien’s hand on me.

“Why are you so tense?”

I hesitated, then remembered our agreement to communicate with one another.

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Because I want to touch you?”

“Because I’m worried you won’t like what you feel.”

I practically felt Damien’s eyes drill a hole into my skull through the darkness.

“You think I won’t like your body?” he questioned incredulously. “You can’t be serious, Alannah.”

I wiggled next to him, but his hand remained firmly on my stomach.

“I’m a little chubby,” I mumbled. “I’ve gained a good bit of weight since we were last together. I’m self-conscious about me stomach, hips, and thighs. Me arse, too.”