~~Damon~~
Someone’s not in a cheerful mood this morning.
Claire’s sitting at the far end of the bed. Her shoulders are tense, her back straight, her silence deafening. I know she’s pissed; hell, I would be too if the roles were reversed.
Her makeup bag sits open on the nightstand, and I watch as she meticulously applies her lipstick, a deep, glossy red that makes her lips look like they’ve been kissed by fire.
The shine catches the light, and I can’t help but want to lean in, to press my lips to hers and see if it tastes as good as it looks. But I hold back. After last night, I’m walking a very thin line.
It killed me to do it. But I had to.
Claire’s not the only one out of control. I need to tame whatever beast is inside me, to torture it into submission.
This isn’t me. I don’t t
