Damian’s POV
Two days. Forty-eight goddamn hours of her stuck in my head like a bad song on repeat.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about that evening.
How those blue eyes glazed when I had her pinned against the glass, how she moaned my name like it was a fuc*ing prayer.
“Damian, please…”
Fucki, the way she begged, the way her body arched into my touch, slick and trembling.
Hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen plenty. Models in Milan, actresses in LA, but none of them left me like this, replaying every gasp, every shiver.
I didn’t call, didn’t show up at her door. Figured space would cool it off.
Bullsht.
She’s there every time I close my eyes, every time I hit the shower, every damn minute.
Obsessed?
Yeah, that’s the word. And I hate it, but I crave it more.
This e
