Something Gained

Chapter 8

Damien:

I looked around the office, noting that there was nothing in there that spoke of Miss Bellamy's personality. Everything was clean and minimal. The most striking thing was the large black office chair that sat behind the glass desk. I hated being made to wait a minute longer than was necessary and if she wasn't going to sit there when she should, then I would. As I sat, I realized I was wrong. The chair was well-worn and built for comfort, meaning that whoever this Miss Bellamy was, she spent a lot of her time there and was obviously dedicated to her work. If that was the case, where was she? Almost on queue, the door opened and Derek nodded to signify that the person who had entered was indeed who I was expecting. However, when I rotated the chair to face back towards the room, I couldn't have been expecting anyone less. There she was, my angel, standing tall like she was walking into a war room. I smiled, she was a little firecracker. As soon as her eyes met mine, I thought for a moment she might faint. She hadn't known who I was that night, nor just now out there. I had caught her off guard and I couldn't resist having a little fun with her. Every little poke at her made her flush from head to toe, and it took everything in me not to grab her right there. I knew Derek could sense there was something in the atmosphere, but I wasn't about to explain that there was no need for real introductions because I had already f****d this girl senseless at some dingy house party. No, the best thing was to ask him to give us a moment alone. I knew he wouldn't think much of it, he knew how I hated him meddling in all the finer details of my operations. The door clicked shut, leaving just the two of us, and suddenly the air felt thick. The confidence she possessed when she had entered had long flown from her, and now she stood awkwardly trying to determine what to say next. "If you have any questions, I'm sure I could..." she rushed out, but I didn't want to hear it. The proposal? Was that really what she wanted to talk about? I ran my thumb across her bottom lip and as her eyes fluttered closed I felt myself harden. "What are we going to do now, Miss Bellamy?" I asked, knowing whatever her answer was, it wouldn't match up to the images I had flashing through my mind. "Cassandra is fine, or Cassie" she breathes out, her words barely above a whisper. "Cassandra" I repeat, savoring the sound of it on my tongue. It sounded so ordinary, so plain. Underneath that, I knew she was simply spectacular. Calling her my angel seemed much more fitting. Still, all she could talk about was this ridiculous proposal when all I wanted was to talk about her, but when I told her the proposal was done, I immediately regretted my tone. She thought I meant I wasn't going ahead, and she probably thought it was because of what had happened between us. s**t. The truth was she could have asked me to shoot myself in the foot, and I'd have asked her what caliber I should use. "The deal was as good as signed when you walked through that door, all plump and purposeful", I clarified. I shuddered at the memory. I wanted to be closer to her, to be within her orbit. This stupid desk was keeping too much distance between us. I rose and strode around the other side of the desk. She didn't move, didn't dare to even breathe as I came to stand behind her, trapping her with my arms. I pressed up against her, breathing heavily in her ear when I heard her draw in a sharp breath of her own. I was affecting her just as much as she was affecting me.

I wanted nothing more than to rip that little black dress from her sexy silhouette, push her down, so her perfect breasts were pressed against the cool glass and f**k her tight little slit until her voice was hoarse from screaming my name. God, I wanted her. And from the way she was breathing, I knew she wanted me too. Before either of us could say a word, the door flung open, and she scrambled away from me like she'd been caught dipping her hand in the cookie jar. I recognized the woman at the door as Kerry. She ran the gallery, and we had met once before. Cassandra refused to make eye contact with her as she questioned how we were getting on, and I cursed her internally for interrupting us. "I want Cassandra to be my point of contact for all gallery matters," I stated, leaving no room for argument. When Kerry beamed and Cassandra looked like a deer in headlights, I knew I had gotten my way. "I'm sure our wonderful Cassie would be willing to serve you in any way she can", she practically sang at me. I stifled a dark chuckle, wondering to myself how true that statement was. I could think of a few ways already and no matter how this investment went, I knew that this was going to be fun.