would still want you."
"You only say that because—"
His head lifts from my lap. A coldness caresses where he'd been and for a tiny second, I miss his warmth.
"Why can't you believe what I'm saying? I have no reason to lie, Olivia. If I only wanted Alex, I could have easily gone to a lawyer and gotten my rights instated. In fact, I'd initially planned to do just that, but then came you."
His hands flex against my body.
"Can't you just try?" Desperation darkens his eyes.
I shake my head, slowly.
This is crazy. People don't do this. At least, sane, normal people don't agree to things like this. He's a stranger who tracked me down because of sperm. And I'm not so sure about the state of his sanity and grief.
"Don't say no. Not yet," he blurts before crashing his lips to mine.
The kiss is brutal, demanding, yet conveys all the desperation and desire he thinks he feels. The warmth of his mouth is familiar and I unwittingly think about our night in Vegas. His lips warming other bare parts of my body.
I just barely open my mouth for his probing tongue when reality comes crashing back.
"Damon—"
I try to mumble a protest, but he plunges his warm tongue into the depths of my mouth. The magic of his slick tongue massaging my own entrances my body. Heat, lust, and desire pulse from where our mouths meet, causing my entire body to ache with need.
His hand cups the back of my head and fists in my hair. Memories of his grip on my hair while he took me from behind in a Vegas hotel room gets my juices flowing.
Needing air, I turn my head and gasp.
Damon's mouth travels over my jaw and toward my ear. His tongue and teeth play along my heated flesh.
"Damon…" I try once more to protest.
"Olivia," he moans, pressing his full body against mine.
I catch my own moan before it falls from my panting mouth.
"Stop." I force the word. "You need to stop."
He continues to cloud my mind and rile my body with his teeth and tongue.
"Damon!" I shout. "You need to stop."
He freezes. I try clearing my mind with gulps of air as I push his body away from mine.
He leans back onto his heels, his chest rising and falling heavily.
"I'm sorry." He drops his head. "I thought you—"
"You just…" What the hell! It wasn't just him. "WE got carried away." Swallowing, I sit up straight. "That can't happen."
I try to stand, but he's right back with his head in my lap.
"We have a connection and chemistry. I felt it the first night, Olivia. You felt it then and you feel it now."
His arms slip around my waist again.
With his mouth so close to still aching places on my body, I squirm.
"Please, let go."
Closing my eyes, I try not to feel the lingering tingle he left across my skin.
This is not normal, not sane. Damon Knyght is an obsessive stalker.
"Please, don't make me leave," he bargains, agreeing to release me.
"It would be best if you stayed somewhere else."
"I want to be here with the two of you," he pleads.
"Damon," I groan.
"You know I would never harm either of you. Let me stay."
His head lifts and he stares longingly into my eyes.
"Fine, but you stay in the spare bedroom." I narrow my eyes.
"Now who's the ridiculous one?" He sits back once more. “You’re my wife. I’ve seen you naked, had you under me, screaming—“
“Okay, hotel for you. Have a good night.” I push to standing. He stands with me.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Spare room.”
“I don’t want you thinking this means something, Damon. I meant what I said. We can work out something where Alex is concerned, but I don't want this marriage. I also don't want you to confuse him by calling yourself his father."
His face hardens.
"At least, not yet," I hurry to amend.
Hurt flashes across his face.
"I'm here for two weeks, Olivia, and, as you already know, I can be very persuasive." Before I can respond to his smug ass remark, he continues, "The spare room is this way, right?"
He disappears down the hall.
That bastard!
Exhausted, I turn off the lights,
"You only say that because—"
His head lifts from my lap. A coldness caresses where he'd been and for a tiny second, I miss his warmth.
"Why can't you believe what I'm saying? I have no reason to lie, Olivia. If I only wanted Alex, I could have easily gone to a lawyer and gotten my rights instated. In fact, I'd initially planned to do just that, but then came you."
His hands flex against my body.
"Can't you just try?" Desperation darkens his eyes.
I shake my head, slowly.
This is crazy. People don't do this. At least, sane, normal people don't agree to things like this. He's a stranger who tracked me down because of sperm. And I'm not so sure about the state of his sanity and grief.
"Don't say no. Not yet," he blurts before crashing his lips to mine.
The kiss is brutal, demanding, yet conveys all the desperation and desire he thinks he feels. The warmth of his mouth is familiar and I unwittingly think about our night in Vegas. His lips warming other bare parts of my body.
I just barely open my mouth for his probing tongue when reality comes crashing back.
"Damon—"
I try to mumble a protest, but he plunges his warm tongue into the depths of my mouth. The magic of his slick tongue massaging my own entrances my body. Heat, lust, and desire pulse from where our mouths meet, causing my entire body to ache with need.
His hand cups the back of my head and fists in my hair. Memories of his grip on my hair while he took me from behind in a Vegas hotel room gets my juices flowing.
Needing air, I turn my head and gasp.
Damon's mouth travels over my jaw and toward my ear. His tongue and teeth play along my heated flesh.
"Damon…" I try once more to protest.
"Olivia," he moans, pressing his full body against mine.
I catch my own moan before it falls from my panting mouth.
"Stop." I force the word. "You need to stop."
He continues to cloud my mind and rile my body with his teeth and tongue.
"Damon!" I shout. "You need to stop."
He freezes. I try clearing my mind with gulps of air as I push his body away from mine.
He leans back onto his heels, his chest rising and falling heavily.
"I'm sorry." He drops his head. "I thought you—"
"You just…" What the hell! It wasn't just him. "WE got carried away." Swallowing, I sit up straight. "That can't happen."
I try to stand, but he's right back with his head in my lap.
"We have a connection and chemistry. I felt it the first night, Olivia. You felt it then and you feel it now."
His arms slip around my waist again.
With his mouth so close to still aching places on my body, I squirm.
"Please, let go."
Closing my eyes, I try not to feel the lingering tingle he left across my skin.
This is not normal, not sane. Damon Knyght is an obsessive stalker.
"Please, don't make me leave," he bargains, agreeing to release me.
"It would be best if you stayed somewhere else."
"I want to be here with the two of you," he pleads.
"Damon," I groan.
"You know I would never harm either of you. Let me stay."
His head lifts and he stares longingly into my eyes.
"Fine, but you stay in the spare bedroom." I narrow my eyes.
"Now who's the ridiculous one?" He sits back once more. “You’re my wife. I’ve seen you naked, had you under me, screaming—“
“Okay, hotel for you. Have a good night.” I push to standing. He stands with me.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Spare room.”
“I don’t want you thinking this means something, Damon. I meant what I said. We can work out something where Alex is concerned, but I don't want this marriage. I also don't want you to confuse him by calling yourself his father."
His face hardens.
"At least, not yet," I hurry to amend.
Hurt flashes across his face.
"I'm here for two weeks, Olivia, and, as you already know, I can be very persuasive." Before I can respond to his smug ass remark, he continues, "The spare room is this way, right?"
He disappears down the hall.
That bastard!
Exhausted, I turn off the lights,
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