Sweet Persuasion (Sweet #2)(51)

He smiled. He considered her a dear friend as well.

“But so is Serena,” she continued. “And I’m a little worried. About you both.”

“There’s no need for you to concern yourself, Faith. Serena and I are consenting adults, and we’re both very aware of what’s at stake and what isn’t.”

Faith made a sound of impatience. “You hate games, Damon. You of all people like things ordered and to your liking. I dare-say you’re quite spoiled and used to having what you want when you want it. This whole fantasy thing . . . I just hope you aren’t going to end up expecting something from it that Serena can’t or won’t give you.”

“I do believe you’re trying to protect my heart,” Damon said in amusement. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“I just don’t want either of you hurt,” she said softly. “Especially you, Damon.”

A flood of warmth entered his chest and bathed his insides. Faith . . . she was like a ray of sunshine on a cold, gloomy day. There wasn’t another way to describe her. She had a heart of gold and was tenaciously loyal to the people she loved. Even to her detriment, as Gray Montgomery would certainly attest.

“I appreciate your concern, Faith. Truly I do. But this is between me and Serena,” he said gently. “We’ve both made our terms very clear. No one is entering this blind.”

Faith gave a small laugh. “That was a tactful way of telling me to mind my own business.”

“Yes, it was,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, I can take a hint. I worry about you, Damon. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Your worry is wasted on me.”

He smiled as she told him again what a dear friend he was and then they rang off. He was still smiling as he put the phone down between his leg and the side of the chair.

Quietly, he closed his laptop and laid it aside on the end table next to his chair. For a long while, he stared into the flickering flames in the hearth and absorbed the sensation of being content in his home, a beautiful woman at his feet. He was . . . happy.

A few moments later, his housekeeper Carol entered the room, clearing her throat to draw his attention. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her eyes cast discreetly away from Serena.

“Is there anything you need, Damon?” she asked.

“I’d like a glass of wine for now,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “In an hour’s time, I’d like dinner served here in the living room.”

Serena would be hungry, and he easily pictured her comfortably settled between his knees, her head on his lap as he fed her with his fingers. Then he’d stroke her hair and they’d talk while they relaxed and enjoyed the evening. Later . . . He wouldn’t get into later just yet. Sitting with a hard-on and nothing to ease it wasn’t exactly fun.

After Carol retreated, Damon reached for the novel he was halfway through and opened it to read, after another glance at Serena.

He was pleased by the trust she’d granted him thus far. She had reservations, as he’d expected, but she’d handled them bravely and with grace. She wasn’t a coward, nor was she a quitter.

And she pleased him. How she pleased him. He’d told her often enough, for he wanted her to be secure in his approval, but there was no explanation for the surge of pleasure her presence brought him. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know the extent of his somewhat muddled feelings. Hell, he wasn’t even going to try and sort through them.

He frowned as he remembered Faith’s concerns. Her worry hadn’t been for Serena. It had been for him. Was he so transparent? Had he no strength to enjoy a brief affair with no emotional involvement?

His frown eased, and he became more pensive than irritated. His emotions were already involved. He’d never viewed sex as a stark, mechanical process that two mating bodies participated in, absent everything else. Even when he knew there was no future for him and the woman he took to his bed, he still treated her with respect, and he kept a small part of his heart reserved for each one. He knew all their names, what they looked like, what they enjoyed, what their dreams and aspirations were. Even when those dreams took them beyond him.

Each time, he steeled himself going in, knowing that what he enjoyed with his partners couldn’t last, and at the end of the affair, he’d viewed their parting with only a small amount of regret and sadness.

He stared down at Serena over the top of the book that he still hadn’t read a word of today. The idea of her moving on did odd things to him. Inspired a sort of panic deep in his soul. A stirring, a protest, a cry of a man for his mate.

He shook his head to rid him of such absurdities. This was sex. Sex with emotion but still just sex and fantasy. It wasn’t real. None of it was real.

Letting go of Serena would be hard, but he would do it. Keeping a woman tied to him when she had no wish to be there wasn’t something he wanted any more than he wanted to contemplate the idea that he’d never find a woman who could love and accept him even knowing what he’d demand from her.

Carol returned with his glass of wine, and he sat sipping as he stared into the fire. His book, now forgotten, was laid carelessly over his lap, marking a place he had no intention of returning to.

Feeling the need to touch Serena, he slid the balls of his feet over her satiny skin, tracing the line of her spine and then the curve of her hip and her small waist. Her hair spread out behind her, a splash of midnight, inky and smooth, like liquid silk.