<127 Chapter 130
127 Chapter 130
Chapter 130 – Intimate Promises, Desperate Pleas
My hands trembled slightly as I unlocked my apartment door. This was the first time I’d invited Damien inside–into my personal space, my sanctuary. A place no man had visited since Julian and I broke up.
“It’s not much,” I said, flicking on the lights. My apartment was small but tastefully decorated, reflecting my design aesthetic with its minimalist furniture and carefully chosen accent pieces.
“It’s perfect,” Damien said, stepping inside and looking around with genuine interest. “It’s very you.”
I watched nervously as he moved through my living room, examining the framed fashion sketches on my walls and the small collection of art books on my coffee table.
“Would you like something to drink?” I offered, trying to calm my jittery nerves. “Wine? Coffee?”
“Wine would be nice,” he replied with a warm smile.
In the kitchen, I took a moment to compose myself. This was Damien–my boyfriend- not some stranger. Why was I so nervous? I knew exactly why. Every step forward with him felt significant, weighted with possibility.
I returned with two glasses of red wine to find Damien examining a photograph of me and Victoria from college.
“You haven’t changed much,” he observed, accepting the glass I offered. “Still beautiful.” “Flatterer,” I said, but his compliment warmed me.
We sat on my small sofa, closer than necessary given the space available. The tension between us was electric, crackling with unspoken desires.
“I’ve wanted to see where you live for a while now,” Damien admitted, his fingers brushing mine as he took a sip of wine.
“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.
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“Because it’s part of you.” His eyes held mine, intense and honest. “I want to know everything about you, Hazel.
His candor still took my breath away. With Julian, I’d always been guessing, wondering, doubting. But Damien was an open book–albeit one with chapters I hadn’t read yet.
“Your turn,” I said. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
He thought for a moment. “I’m afraid of heights.”
I blinked in surprise. “You? The man who had hundreds of drones light up the sky for me? Mr. I–Have–A–Personal–Helicopter?”
He laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Ironic, isn’t it? But the things that terrify us are sometimes the things we force ourselves to face.”
Something about his admission, this small–vulnerability, made my heart swell. I reached out to touch his face, tracing the strong line
of his jaw with my fingertips.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Damien’s eyes darkened, and he set his glass down carefully on the coffee table. Without a word, he took mine and did the same.
When his lips met mine, it wasn’t gentle or exploratory like our previous kisses. This kiss was hungry, years of pent–up desire finally finding release. His hands tangled in my hair, cradling my head as his mouth moved against mine with delicious intensity.
I moaned softly, and the sound seemed to ignite something primal in him. In one fluid movement, he pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. His hands gripped my hips, and I could feel him hardening beneath me.
“Hazel,” he breathed against my neck, his voice rough with desire. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
But I did. Because I wanted him just as desperately. I’d been fighting it, telling myself it was too soon, but my body knew differently. My body recognized him as somehow both new and familiar, dangerous and safe.
His mouth traced a burning path down my throat, and I arched against him, needing more. When his hands slid under my blouse to caress the bare skin of my back, I shivered with pleasure.
“Is this okay?” he asked, pausing to look into my eyes.
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“Yes,” I whispered. “More than okay.”
Emboldened, he slowly unbuttoned my blouse, his eyes never leaving mine. When the last button came undone, he pushed the fabric aside, his gaze dropping to take in the sight of me in my lace bra.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands skimming up my sides. “Even more beautiful than I imagined.”
His thumb brushed over the lace covering my nipple, and I gasped at the sensation. He did it again, more deliberately this time, watching my reaction with heavy–lidded eyes.
I grabbed the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine. He helped me pull it over his head, revealing a torso that made my mouth go dry. He was magnificent –all lean muscle and smooth skin, with a scattering of dark hair across his chest.
Unable to resist, I ran my hands over him, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. Damien’s breath hitched, and he pulled me closer, our bare skin finally meeting in an exquisite moment of contact.
His mouth found mine again, his kiss more urgent now. I ground against him instinctively, seeking friction, and was rewarded with a deep groan that vibrated through his chest.
“Damien,” I breathed as his lips moved to my collarbone, then lower, brushing the tops of my breasts. Through the thin lace, I felt his hot breath, then the wet heat of his mouth closing over my nipple.
A bolt of pleasure shot through me, so intense it almost hurt. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against my skin. “Tell me, and it’s yours.”
The words were on the tip of my tongue–take me to bed, make love to me, don’t stop -when a sudden moment of clarity cut through the haze of desire. This was happening too fast. Not because I didn’t want it, but because when it happened, I wanted to be sure it was about us, not about proving something to myself or erasing the past.
“Damien,” I said, my voice shaky as I pulled back slightly. “I–I need to stop.
He froze immediately, his hands stilling on my body. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
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“No, no, I assured him quickly. “It’s just… I want this. So much. But I think we should slow down.”
The look of understanding that crossed his face made me fall for him a little more. He nodded, though I could see the effort it took to rein in his desire.
“Of course,” he said, brushing my hair back from my face. “We have all the time in the world.”
I climbed off his lap, feeling both relieved and bereft. We sat side by side, catching our breath, my blouse still hanging open, his chest still bare. It was the most erotic non–sex I’d ever experienced.
“I should probably go,” Damien said after a moment, reaching for his shirt. “Before my self–control completely abandons me.”
I nodded, unable to deny the disappointment mingling with my relief. “I’m sorry if I led
you on.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly, taking my hand. “You never have to apologize for knowing your boundaries. I want you, Hazel–there’s no hiding that. But I want all of you, not just your body. And I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
Once dressed, he kissed me at the door, a sweet, almost chaste kiss that still managed to send shivers down my spine.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised.
But tomorrow came and went without a call. And the next day too. Had I offended him by stopping things? Had he decided I wasn’t worth the wait after all?
By the third day of silence, my insecurity had morphed into worry. This wasn’t like Damien. I was about to call him when my phone finally lit up with his name.
“Hazel,” he said, his voice sounding tired but warm. “I’m sorry for disappearing.” “Where are you?” I asked, relief flooding through me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m in Seoul. Emergency business trip. I should have called sooner, but things have been chaotic.”
“Seoul? As in South Korea?” I blinked in surprise. “When did
you
leave?”
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“The morning after… after I saw you last,” he admitted. “I needed some space, if I’m being honest.”
My heart sank. “Because of what happened? Or didn’t happen?”
“No, not like that,” he clarified quickly. “Because I was afraid if I saw you again too soon, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. And I wanted to give you time, without pressure.”
Oh. That was…unexpectedly considerate. And incredibly sweet.
“When are you coming back?” I asked softly.
“Tomorrow night. Have dinner with me the day after?”
“I’d like that.”
“Good,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I miss you, Hazel.”
“I miss you too,” I replied, surprised by how true it was.
The following evening, I was just putting the finishing touches on a design when my phone rang. Damien’s name flashed on the screen, and I smiled.
“You’re back!” I answered eagerly.
“Just landed,” he confirmed. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“Me too. I was thinking-”
My phone beeped with another incoming call. It was Victoria.
“Hold on, Damien. Victoria’s calling. Let me tell her I’ll call back.”
I switched lines. “Hey Vic, can I—”
REK
“Hazel,” her voice was weak, frightening me immediately. “I need you. I’m at the hospital. Something’s wrong.”
My blood ran cold. “I’m on my way. Which hospital?”
After getting the details, I switched back to Damien. “I’m so sorry, but I need to cancel tomorrow. Victoria’s in the hospital.”
“Is she alright?” His concern sounded genuine.
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“I don’t know. I’m heading there now.”
“Do you need a ride? I can send my driver.”
“No, thank you. I’ll take a taxi. It’ll be faster.”
“Call me when you know something? And if you need anything at all.”
“I will,” I promised, already grabbing my purse. “I’m sorry about dinner.
“Don’t apologize. Your friend needs you. We’ll reschedule.”
After hanging up, I rushed out, desperate to get to Victoria. The taxi ride felt interminable, my mind conjuring worst–case scenarios.
When I finally stepped out of the elevator on Victoria’s floor, the last person I expected to see was Julian. He stood in the hallway, his expression darkening when he spotted
- me.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Victoria called me,” I replied coldly. “What are YOU doing here?”
“This is a public hospital,” he snapped. “And I needed to talk to you.”
“Now is not the time.”
“It’s exactly the time,” he insisted, blocking my path. “You need to drop the lawsuit against Giselle.”
I stared at him incredulously. “Are you serious? She committed fraud against my company, and
you can just demand I let it go?” you think
“Your public crusade is destroying her!” Julian’s voice róse. “She’s just a young woman who made a mistake!”
“A ‘mistake‘ that cost my company millions,” I retorted. “Now move. My friend needs
me.”
Julian’s expression shifted from anger to desperation. “Hazel, please. Giselle is pregnant.”
The news hit me like a slap. “What?”
“She’s pregnant with her abuser’s child,” he continued, his voice breaking. “The stress
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of this lawsuit is making her physically ill. Her blood pressure is dangerously high, she’s not eating, not sleeping. The doctors are worried about her mental state.
I stood frozen, unsure how to process this information.
“She’s suffering enough,” Julian pleaded. “Do you really want to push her to her death before you stop?”
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