Chapter Five: The Kiss
1189 Words
Desire has a breaking point. And tonight, it breaks.
The ride back was quiet. But it wasn’t peaceful. The air in the backseat was thick with everything unsaid. Elena sat beside Damien, knees almost touching, her hands folded neatly in her lap. As if holding herself together. She could feel his eyes on her. Every few seconds. Like he was trying not to look, and failing every time. When the car pulled up in front of her building, she turned to thank him, but he was already out, coming around to open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, stepping onto the curb.
Damien didn’t move. He stood there in the halo of the street lamp, hands in his pockets, looking far too composed for someone who’d nearly kissed her an hour ago.
“Do you always escort your employees home?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
He raised a brow. “Only the ones who undo me.” Her breath caught.
“Elena…” he started, then stopped.
She waited. He stepped closer, so close she could smell the scotch on his breath and the sharp scent of whatever expensive cologne he wore. His hand came up slowly and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. She didn’t move. Couldn’t.
“I told myself I wouldn’t cross this line,” he murmured. “I meant it.”
“Me too.”
His fingers slid down, tracing the curve of her jaw. His eyes locked on hers.
“But you showed up in that damn dress,” he whispered, voice rough, “and I haven’t been able to think straight since.”
Elena’s heart thudded so loud, she could barely hear anything else.
“I should walk away.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” A beat. Then....
He kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It was months of tension crashing into one moment. Hot. Desperate. Unapologetic. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her arms curled around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she melted into him. She tasted heat and danger and something she hadn’t realized she’d been starving for. His mouth devoured hers, taking and giving all at once. She gasped as his tongue slid against hers, and he swallowed the sound like it belonged to him. One kiss turned into two. Then three. By the fourth, they were pressed against the side of the car, her leg sliding between his, his hand skimming dangerously high along her thigh.
“Elena,” he growled against her lips, “tell me to stop.” She didn’t. She couldn’t. “I won’t,” she breathed. That was all it took. He kissed her again harder this time, lips moving like he was trying to memorize her. But then, too suddenly, he pulled back. Breathing hard. Eyes burning.
“If I don’t stop now,” he said, voice low and guttural, “I’m going to take you. And I won’t be gentle.”
She stared at him, lips swollen, body humming. “And if I said I wanted that?”
He swore softly, his hands still at her waist. Then he leaned in one last time, brushing her lips with his.
“Not tonight,” he said. “When I have you, Elena… it won’t be rushed. It’ll be everything.” He turned, walked back to the car, and drove off. Leaving her stunned. Shaking.
Elena walked into the office the next morning with trembling fingers and a carefully practiced face. Her lips still tingled. Her dreams had been a tangled mess of mouths and hands and whispered promises she wasn’t sure Damien would ever keep. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back against that car, his voice rough against her skin:
“When I have you, it won’t be rushed. It’ll be everything.”
She walked into the executive suite at exactly 8:00 a.m., and her heart nearly slammed into her ribcage when she saw him already there.
Damien stood behind his desk, perfectly composed. Charcoal gray suit. Crisp white shirt. No tie today. He didn’t look up when she entered.
“Morning,” she said, setting his coffee on his table.
“Morning,” he replied without emotion, eyes glued to his laptop.
That was it. No smirk. Not even a glance. She bit her tongue. Maybe this was a test. Maybe this was damage control. Either way, he wasn’t making it easy.
By noon, he hadn’t spoken to her beyond clipped instructions. She finally cracked during their third back-to-back meeting when he passed her a document without looking at her and said, “You can type, can’t you?”
She looked up, stunned. “yes sir?”
He blinked at her, expression flat. “You’re quiet today.”
“You’ve barely looked at me.”
“I’ve been working.”
“Right,” she muttered. “Of course. Back to business.”
“Elena ...”
“No, it’s fine,” she cut in, standing to gather the papers. “I get it. It was a mistake.” His jaw flexed, but he didn’t correct her. Didn’t say it wasn’t. That hurt more than she expected.
It only got worse when Veronica strutted in later that afternoon like she owned the place. “Darling,” she said sweetly, stopping at Elena’s desk. “Did you enjoy the gala? I heard Damien left quite early. Strange. He usually enjoys staying for dessert.”
Elena didn’t answer.
Veronica leaned in. “You know, I saw the way he looked at you last night. Poor thing. Don’t get your hopes up. He always gets bored, especially with the help.”
“I’m not ‘the help,’” Elena said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, honey,” Veronica said, laughing softly. “He just hasn’t used you yet.”
Elena stood sharply, eyes flashing. Before she could speak, Damien’s voice boomed from his office.
“Veronica. Leave.”
Veronica turned, startled.
Damien stood at his door now, eyes locked on her. “You’re not welcome here. Or in my building.”
Veronica’s smile faltered. “You’re making a mistake,” she said coldly. “She’s not worth it.”
“That’s not your call to make.”
Veronica’s eyes darted to Elena sharp and poisonous before she turned and stormed off, her heels echoing like gunshots. Elena stood frozen.
Damien didn’t say another word. He just looked at her like he was on the edge of something dangerous and then turned and walked back into his office. This time, the door slammed shut behind him.
That night, Elena sat on her bed staring at her phone. She typed a message.
“About last night…” Deleted it.
Typed another.
“If I meant nothing, why did you kiss me like you did?” Deleted that too.
Finally, she put her phone face-down and whispered aloud to herself:
“Don’t fall for a man who kisses like a storm but hides like a coward.”But she already had. And storms don’t pass quietly.
- Writer
