14
Nesrin
The party is slowly simmering down as I make my way to my bedroom. But the moment I hit the landing, I feel a hand twist against my arm, and I’m spun around. Creed.
“I wanted to chat with you,” he tells me. Deep green eyes hold me hostage, and something in my gut twists. Not in a good way. There’s something about him that makes me nervous. I don’t like it.
“About what?”
“I’m Creed Haven,” he tells me. “We met earlier, I’m a friend of Damien’s.” His gaze flashes as he takes me in from head to toe. “He didn’t tell me his sister was so gorgeous.”
“I’m not his sister.”
“Oh? I thought your mommy married Bradford.” There’s an underlying anger in his words, and I wonder what or why he would care.
“What do you want?” I counter, not wanting to play this game. I wish Damien would come out of his bedroom. I saw him disappear in there earlier, but he hasn’t come out again. I want to scream, that would alert him that I’m not feeling comfortable, but I’m certain it would only anger Creed even more, and that’s definitely not what I need or want.
“I wanted to see if I could come pick you up, take you on a tour of the town.” He offers me a charming smile, and his eyes shimmer, as he regards me. If I wasn’t so nervous, I’d think he’s handsome. But it’s in his eyes, they remind me of a snake’s, so luminous, the green almost glowing.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” he tells me, before pulling me closer, causing me to stumble into his arms. I’m there for a split second before I’m suddenly ripped away from him and shoved behind a bare back of tensing muscles, as they tighten with rage.
“Get the fuck out of my house, Creed,” Damien’s voice is animalistic; the growl of possessiveness makes my stomach flip.
Creed grins as if he’s happy he’s angered Damien. It’s clear they have a history, something that I’m not privy to, but I intend on getting answers from Damien the moment his friend is gone.
Green eyes land on me, before Creed says, “Soon, little one.” He winks at me, then turns to walk down the stairs toward the door. All I can hear is my heart thudding in my ears. My stomach is in knots, and my breathing is labored as my lungs struggle to pull in air. I can’t believe that just happened.
Damien spins around, and I’m met full force with his beauty. His slim yet chiseled body is smooth. His abs look like they’ve been carved from porcelain, with hips that taper into a pair of black sweatpants. His V line teases its way toward the waistband of his pants, and the dark trail of hair that leads from his belly button, disappearing below his clothes, has my body pulsing wildly.
“Are you done staring?” he challenges, the anger and rage that fueled him moments ago gone, in its place is a seductive grin that promises filthy things.
I snap my gaze up to his, my cheeks heating because I’ve been caught checking him out. “What was that?” I find my voice, trying to keep it calm, but trying not to look at Damien’s body is a feat in itself.
“Stay away from him,” Damien tells me, stalking down the hallway, but I’m hot on his heels. I want more answers than that.
“You have to tell me what the fuck that was, Damien.” He stops suddenly, spinning on his heel, which causes me to crash into his body. My hands land on his pecs, and the heat coming off him is searing. But I don’t let go, I don’t move away, because his hands find my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh.
“Don’t ever talk to me like that,” he whispers, but there’s no anger left in his tone or his blue eyes. They dance with desire, the pupils dilating, the color turning darker than they normally are. The corner of his mouth tilts sideways, the dimples forming in his cheeks.
“Or what?” I know I’m poking the beast, teasing the animal that he hides inside. But I don’t care because I need him to do something. To kiss me or kill me. This heat that sizzles between us is unbearable.
He spins us both around, slamming me against the wall, knocking the breath from me, and seconds later, his mouth crashes on mine. His lips steal my whimper, his tongue darts against mine, tangling and dancing. He rolls his hips, pressing his erection against my stomach.
He consumes me. Taking all of my breaths and mingling them with his. But his hands don’t move from my hips, if anything, they only seem to tighten their hold on me. I don’t know if he’s trying to restrain himself from touching me anywhere else, but I don’t care. My hands wind around his neck, and I hold on as I’m kissed within an inch of my life.