“Give me ten minutes, and then I will show you. You can come to me whenever you want.”
I let out a held breath and smiled—he’d finally landed on the perfect words. I could go to him. I could choose when and how. Being able to set the pace and apply the brakes sounded really good. Especially as it concerned him. I wondered if he’d consent to just being tied up and letting me work the whole thing out without his digits searching for every available orifice.
“Yes, that’s right.” His kiss was urgent and needy. “That look in your eyes. I like it. Ten minutes. Come see me.”
His new approach had certainly derailed my plan to talk to him. But maybe this was a good thing—maybe it would help me overcome whatever was holding me back with him.
I was standing in the same place, biting my nails, when Mr. Tom drifted in a few minutes later.
“When you try to talk him into leading the whole group,” he said, “you might give him some romancing pointers.”
“Why? What do you know?”
“That he is very bad at it. Clearly he has never had to try with women.”
“How do you know that?”
Mr. Tom stopped between the still-ruined island and empty area where the table had once been. “You are standing in the kitchen, by yourself, while he is off…doing whatever he is doing. This is, apparently, his new tactic in romancing you. He reminds me of a great many boys I knew growing up. Knuckle draggers. I’d thought the younger generations would have more of a clue, but… Well, I do not expect a great outcome from this effort.”
I opened my mouth, intending to make some kind of a rebuttal, I was pretty sure, but nothing came out. I really didn’t know where to go with this. Talking with Mr. Tom about romancing was about as awesome as talking to him about his stuffing condoms all over my room.
Instead, I just nodded and made my way out, having decided I’d head straight into the secret passageways and take my time getting up to Damarion’s room. When I got there, a minute or so early, I took a deep breath, butterflies fluttering through my belly, and approached the little viewing hole that allowed me to see—and hear—the goings on in most of his room.
Candlelight flickered within, a great start. The bottle of wine waited on the dresser to the right, the two glasses next to it, their rims shimmering in the glow. His headboard was pushed against the wall opposite me, but the small footboard didn’t obstruct my view.
In a moment, I wished it had.
“Yes…”
My eyes popped wide, and it took me a moment to make sense of what I was seeing.
Somewhat hairy legs were bent and spread wide, creating an “M” shape on the fluffy white duvet, the middle being thighs and a bare butt. Candlelight flickered off his ripped body, slanted slightly upward because his head rested on a stack of pillows, but there was no way in hell his muscular chest could hold my attention.
His hand, wrapped around his naked shaft, slowly stroked up and down, timed to his soft moans.
“Yes, girl.”
My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t know why, but for some reason—disbelief maybe, horror probably—I could not tear my eyes away from this train wreck.
What the hell did he think he was doing? This was his response to my need for romance? This was showing me how much he wanted me?
Okay, sure, logically it was pretty clear that he did, indeed, want me. But really?
No, it had to be a joke. There was no way he could be serious with this.
His hand sped up as the other reached down between those spread, hairy thighs and cupped his danglers. I thought maybe he was trying to cover them, because this view of a man had to be, without a doubt, the grossest view possible, maybe second only to if he bent over and showed off his bells and tackle from behind. But no, he was not covering them.
“Yes, yes…”
He was massaging them.
“Yes!”
“Oh, ew.” I spun around, shocked mute for a moment.
I stood corrected. That was the worst view—the conclusion.
I stared at the opposite wall for a moment, the passageways lit by a magical blue glow…and cracked a smile.
Since my start in online dating, I’d gotten my fair share of dick pics, but this was the first time I’d caught a live performance. Dick pic live, coming soon to a peephole near you.
Laughter bubbled up, overtaking me.
I had to tell somebody. I couldn’t keep this to myself. If I kept it to myself, it would just be icky and unfortunate. Telling someone meant there was a punch line, even if it was me.
I hurried away through the passages before emerging into an unoccupied room that looked out over the front yard. Niamh’s lights weren’t on, which meant she was probably at the bar. I hurried back to my room through the passages, not wanting to be seen, and changed quickly before jogging down the hall to Ulric’s room.