The Other F-Word (15 page)

“Me too,” he said, taking out his own ear buds. “What song?”

“
Collide
,” I said, feeling suddenly hot. “What about you?”

“
Wasting Time
. Guess we both picked appropriate songs.”

“Did you get my message? My song?”

“I got it. I didn’t know how to respond though. I really liked you, Jessie. I don’t usually lay my heart out there.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry.” My knees cramped or perhaps they started weakening in response to his wicked smile.

“Is that why you’re here? Are you following me?”

I felt another flush of heat, but it was anger this time. “No.”

“Then why are you here on my turf?”

“Your turf? It’s not like you own the jogging path.”

He smirked. “Actually, this is hotel property and I own the hotel so yeah…I do own it.”

Damn.

“Do you own everything in Chicago?”

He shrugged. “No…not yet.”

“I’ll leave,” I said, turning.

“Wait.”

And just like that I did.

“This area is for hotel guests. I tell you what, I’ll let you run here on one condition.”

My scalp prickled. “What are you suggesting?”

“Just a friendly competition. Are you up for it?” He came closer to me, picking up my wrist and unwrapping the bandana there. He wrapped it around his forehead and damn if it didn’t make him look hotter. “A turf war, of sorts.”

“What are we going to do? Have a dance off?” I started giggling, but then I remembered how he could dance and that laugh twisted into a nervous snicker.

“I was thinking we’d race. I’ll even give you a head start to make things fair.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, cowboy. I can beat you fair and square.”

“I believe that.”

This was flirty fun, and I felt better than I had in weeks. He made me laugh and feel uncomfortable in a good way, like no other man ever had. He challenged me. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards me. “You know there’s nothing faster than a cougar.”

He chuckled. “I assure you a wolf is quicker…at least when he runs. In other things, he takes his time.”

Damn…he always had the better lines.

“You will choke on my dust.” The statement was delusional at best. There was no way I could beat him. One look at his strapping physique made that apparent, but hell if I’d let him scare me off.

He bent down very close to my face, smiling through gritted teeth. “Bring it, grandma.”

He turned and started racing. Watching Damien’s muscular legs and arms flex with every seamless, confident stride he took put me in a trance. His slightly damp hair and that silly bandana around his forehead just added to his appeal…well, it gave new meaning to the term ‘poetry in motion’.

Then I snapped out of it, and darted with high speed to catch up to him. It was clear he would beat me. I still planned on giving him a run for his money. We raced hard, although I had a strong suspicion he slowed his normal pace for me. I was a good runner, but no match for him. I felt the sweat emerge from my flesh, especially that trickle that started at my lower back and worked its way down. How was running my ass off, sweating like a pig, turning me on? The answer to my absurd question was simple. I had the perfect visual. I wasn’t some drooling girl, and I was no angel either…I could play dirty.

I pulled up alongside him.

“Want to concede?” he asked, not even out of breath.

“Hell no.” I said, moving past him. I unzipped my sweatshirt, tying it around my waist. I turned back to see him slowing his pace, staring at me with wide-eyed lust.

“You’re not playing fair, Jessie.”

I turned to him, running backwards. “What are you talking about?” I batted my eyelashes. “I was hot.”

“And you still are, baby,” he replied.

I prayed I wasn’t blushing as I resumed my speed, trying to take advantage of the lead I’d earned.

He was next to me a few minutes later. We’d been around the path twice and were both panting now. My legs were burning, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I loved the runner’s high. I intended on getting very high today.

“Guess what?” he said in a heavy breath.

“What?”

“I’m hot too.” He overtook me, nudging my shoulder in the process. He did the one-arm shirt pulling off thing that guys could do so gracefully. He turned back to me, running backwards, resting the shirt on his shoulder. I gasped. I couldn’t answer. His perfectly sculpted chest, with that coiling tribal tattoo that started at his shoulder and spiralled its way around his upper arm, was very distracting. It was an artful pattern and I swear I saw two glittering circles in the middle—wolf eyes.

“Coming?” he asked, tilting his head before turning away.

“Please God…soon,” I muttered under my breath, trying to catch up.

It seemed ridiculous that I could still run, but I could so I did. We bumped shoulders a great deal trying to pass each other even though the path was wide enough that such collisions were unnecessary.

Eventually, he slowed and stopped. His shirt was no longer draped on his shoulder, now discarded on the path.

“Damn, girl, you can run,” he said, bending over, stretching his back. His body glistened with sweat, inky dark strands of hair matted against his face, and his breaths were harsh. He was masculinity in its purest form.

I fell on the grassy area, too tired to walk to the bench. Too tired to speak. I lay on my back, staring at the calming blue skies dotted with slow-moving clouds, hoping my heartbeat would return to normal. It wasn’t working, especially when he lay next to me. We both looked up, deeps breaths spilling from our lungs, sharing a moment that didn’t require words.

He hooked his pinky finger into mine.

“I saw your picture in the paper,” I finally said.

“I would have invited you, but we weren’t speaking at the time.”

“Do you like her?”

“As much as I can like a girl who’s not you.”

A simple sentence, but full of hope, causing my heartbeat to spiral again.

“It’s just a casual thing.”

“She’s very pretty,” I said, as if he didn’t know. I was running on empty, unable to convey my jealousy without complete resignation.

“I don’t want pretty. I want you.”

It was such a silly statement, and I knew he hadn’t meant it that way, so I laughed. I giggled harder than I imagined was possible in my tired state.

He did too. “Shit, that came out so God awfully wrong. Let me rephrase. You owe me that.”

“Please do.”

He crooked his elbow, leaning his head against his palm, eyes grazing over my quivering, sweaty body. “Here’s my truth. You’re more than a pretty face to me. I’d have to qualify you in the hot as hell category. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman.” He leaned closer to me and I longed to stroke the chiselled planes of his face, shadowed by the perfect amount of stubble. His hot, sweet breath fanned against my skin, washing over me like soft caresses. He placed a finger on my moist hairline, tracing it all the way down my face to my chin and finally the outline of my sports bra, where my heaving breasts were aching for his touch. He kept tracing the area repeatedly as he spoke in hushed, raspy whispers. “It was never about a one-night-stand, but I’d be struck by lightning right here if I said that I don’t want us to partake in that little four letter word that begins with F and will end this game of torture. And just so it’s clear, I’m not talking about food this time…even though I fully intend on tasting every delicious inch of you over and over again.” Then, God help me, he took that finger, slick with my sweat…and sucked it. It was so erotic and sexy that my senses surrendered to him completely and finally succumbed to the captivating trance of Damien Wolfe.

“Okay,” I said, unable to articulate much more.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” I replied, taking off the strap of my sports bra, pulling it down my shoulder, ready to give myself to him completely.

His hooded eyes widened in shock. “What the hell are you doing?” He slipped the strap back on my shoulder and patted it down.

“I thought—”

“Not here. We’re outside for God’s sake.”

Oh shit…he was right. I was ready to fuck him on the secluded although not private running path of the Wilston hotel. I smiled weakly. His body rumbled with laughter, but the deep swallow that followed made it clear we were both having a difficult time with our carnal conversation.

“Lucky for us, I know a place close by.” He stood and reached for my hand, pulling me up. He unwrapped the knot of the hoodie against my waist, and held it open for me. Once it was on, he zipped it to the top. “No one’s out here today, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to bring you into that lobby with just a sports bra.”

“It’s definitely unsuitable attire for a five-star hotel.”

“It’s not suitable for any other eyes except mine,” he said, with quiet authority. Possessiveness was not a quality I was usually attracted to, but he made it so very attractive.

“I feel the same way, so go find your shirt, cowboy.”

Chapter Fourteen

I hated the Wilston hotel. Damien took my hand and led me through the posh lobby, but Kelly Harris yelled his name, darting across the travertine floors with her obnoxious clicking heels. She claimed she needed to desperately talk to him about some business proposal for the hotel. She fluttered her long eyelashes, and ran her fingers through her silky blonde hair, giving me a cursory eye roll in the process. I may have been out of practice, but it was apparent to me that we were communicating in the nuances of that secret, snarky language all women shared. We might as well have been in a jungle, circling the object of our affections…our desire…our mutual thirst—Damien Wolfe.

This was my opportunity to let his other predators know this wolf was mine. I sidled up next to him, not lowering my eyes, smiling brightly and letting her know I was completely comfortable, even though I wanted to bring my claws out. All my newfound cougar senses kept telling me to act like the lady I was, although it was difficult seeing as I was a hot, sweaty mess and she was ice-cool, manicured perfection.

“Kelly, I’m busy right now. Email me.”

“I can see that,” she said, gesturing to me with a pouty fake smile. “I guess I’ll see you in about an hour then.”

Damn…did he do this all the time? Nope, wasn’t going to let my insecurities take over again. It was apparent that what she said was meant for my ears more than Damien’s.

“I’m sorry, Kelly, I’m being rude,” Damien said.

Kelly instantly brightened, standing up straighter, giving him a genuine smile, while I tried not to let my shoulders slump.

“This is my girlfriend, Emmie Mason. I believe you two know each other.”

Did I say Damien was smart? He was fucking brilliant.

I actually felt sorry for her when all her delicate features fell into a sudden frown, creating a crack in her make-up.

“I thought she was just planning the benefit party for us,” she said, lowering her eyes.

Damien nodded. “I’m glad I could clear up the misunderstanding. Email me your proposals and I’ll get back to you.”

He took my hand and led me to the bank of elevators without another word. He pushed the button, tightening his grip as if he thought I might escape.

“She wants you.”

“I know.” His clear perception surprised me. “I didn’t become successful by being clueless, Jessie.”

“Have you ever—”

“No, I don’t dip my pen in company ink,” he replied, staring at the numbers passing.

“Is what you said so she’d stop trying to get with you or was it true?”

“It’s completely true…she can always email me.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, nudging him.

He clasped his hand around my waist, bringing me to the corner of the elevator and leaning me into the wall. “It’s not true because I haven’t asked you yet. Will you be my girlfriend, Jessie?”

Was this really happening? The word girlfriend was meant for twenty-somethings. It felt odd when describing someone my age. Still, the thought of belonging to him sent flutters down my back.

“Yes.”

“Good, because I have to tell you, I was worried about that assumption.”

He was so close, green-gold eyes blazing with lust, masculinity emanating from every pore. It occurred to me I’d never kissed him. How could this man make me feel this way without even kissing me? So I wrapped my arms around him and went in for a full on mouth experience. But he covered my lips with his hand.

“Jessie, don’t kiss me yet.”

“Why?” I ignored the sting of his rejection.

He lifted my chin so I was staring at his intense eyes. “Because if you start I won’t be able to stop. This is a family-friendly establishment. Besides, the elevator has cameras.”

We didn’t so much as walk into the room as crash into it. He flipped off his shoes while backing me up against a far wall.

“I need to know something first.”

“Anything,” I said, completely hypnotized by those brooding eyes.

“Would you prefer I called you by your real name?”

I bit my lip, my heartbeat increasing incrementally as he bent lower to bring his forehead against mine.
Dear God, please don’t let him give me a heart attack
. Well, at least it would be a nice way to go. “I actually don’t mind, but why do you like it?”

“It’s what I’ve been imagining in my head since that night at Club Cassbar. I have to admit, it is my preference.”

“You don’t like my real name?”

“No, it’s not that. This name is mine and mine alone…it’s ours. No other man has or will ever call you Jessie, right?”

He didn’t wait for my reply, instead he crushed his lips against mine, swallowing my response. He moved slowly, but he kissed me without reservation in a demanding way. His mouth claimed mine with a longing I was not expecting. It was more than passion—there was something needy in it…consuming. I parted my lips and his tongue glided over mine. One thing was for sure, I’d never been kissed in this way.

I ran my hands through his damp hair, undoing the bandana so I could have full access. I tugged on a fistful of it. He grunted in approval then slid his lips down my jaw line and across my chin, pressing wet kisses to every spot.