Pucked by my Fathers BestFriend

Craving

ELENA’S POV

The drive back to the Laurent estate was a blur of heavy breathing and suffocating heat. Damien didn't say a single word as he drove with one hand, his other firmly anchored on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The memory of our lips colliding in the front seat of the SUV still burned, making my core ache with an untamed hunger. I was utterly unraveled, trapped between the thrill of his touch and the sudden, freezing wall he put up the moment he yanked himself back.

When the vehicle finally ground to a halt inside the heavily secured garage, Damien cut the engine. The silence was immediate, heavy, and dangerous.

"Upstairs. Now," he commanded, his voice dropping to that familiar, low growl.

I didn't argue. Clutching his heavy tailored jacket around my shoulders to hide the skimpy nurse costume, I hurried up the grand staircase. My bare feet made no sound against the plush Persian rugs, but my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I expected him to order me straight to my room, to lock me away like an obedient girl.

Instead, his heavy, decisive footsteps followed me down the dark hallway of the east wing straight toward his private study.

He pushed the heavy carved oak doors open, stepping inside the dimly lit room. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on his massive black desk next to a stack of files, casting long, imposing shadows across the leather furniture.

"Close the door, Elena," Damien murmured, turning his back to me as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his shirt sleeves up his forearms.

I clicked the door shut behind me. "Damien, about tonight"

"Do you have any idea whose territory you walked into?" he interrupted, turning sharply to face me. His cold, dark eyes swept down the length of my body, tracking the way the thin white fabric of the costume peeked out from beneath his jacket. "Vincent’s father is a minor associate of the Lombardi family. The same Lombardi family that is currently trying to push our borders on the west side. If they realized who you were if they knew you were under my protection you wouldn't have been cornered by a pathetic boy. You would have been taken."

A violent shiver ran down my spine, but it wasn't just from fear. It was the lethal, quiet confidence dripping from his tone that made my blood run hot.

"I didn't know," I whispered, stepping closer to the desk. "I just wanted to escape... everything. To escape how you look at me, and then how you push me away."

Damien let out a harsh, ragged breath, his fingers rubbing his temples. He looked tired, hardened by the dark secrets of his criminal empire, yet completely consumed by the sight of me standing in his sanctuary.

"You think this is a game?" Damien growled, taking a slow, predatory step toward me until there were only a few inches of space left between us. The intoxicating scent of smoke, whiskey, and raw danger rolled off him, making me dizzy. "I told you to stay away from me. I told you I am a broken man. Your father is my best friend, Elena. He trusts me to keep you safe."

"I don't want to be safe, Damien," I breathed, baring my soul to him as I looked directly into his dark, untamed eyes. "I am in love with you. I have been for a long time."

The admission hung in the air, thick and heavy. For a split second, the restraint he had been clinging to all night shattered completely. Damien lunged forward, his large hand gripping the back of my neck as his mouth crashed down onto mine. It was a harsh, desperate kiss, fueled by a dark, possessive hunger that sent a shockwave straight to my core. I moaned against his lips, my fingers instantly tangling into his hair, surrendering to the fire.

But just as suddenly as he had taken me, Damien abruptly ripped himself away.

He stumbled back a step, breathing heavily, his eyes wild as he stared at me. He looked at his own hands as if disgusted by his own lack of control, his jaw clenching so tightly the bone looked ready to snap. The sudden rejection hit me like ice water.

"No," Damien growled, his voice a rough, fractured whisper as he pointed a trembling finger at me. "This ends right now. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? How dangerous l am?"

"Damien, please" I stepped toward him, reaching out, but he violently swerved away from my touch.

"Look at yourself, Elena!" he snapped, his voice booming through the quiet study. He gestured harshly to the cheap, revealing nurse outfit shifting under his oversized jacket. "You are acting out, running off to college parties, trying to provoke a reaction from a man who could destroy you. I don't care what you think you feel. You are a kid to me. A child who belongs in a classroom, not in my world, and certainly not in my bed."

"I'm not a child," I whispered, tears of humiliation and fierce anger stinging the corners of my eyes.

"Then stop acting like one," Damien said, his voice dropping into a cold, dead iron that cut deeper than any blade. He turned his back to me, staring out the darkened window into the estate grounds. "Go to your room, Elena. Lock the door. And pray to God I can forget the way you taste by morning."

Crushed under the weight of his words, I pulled his jacket tightly around my shivering frame, turned, and bolted out of the study, leaving him alone in the dark.