DADDY'S LITTLE VIRGIN:BEGS FOR HIS RUIN

YOU THINK YOU CAN PLAY DIRTY WITH ME, SAMMY?

CHAPTER 11

Damien’s big, rough hand stayed glued to my upper thigh. His palm felt hot against my bare skin under the open slit of my green dress.

His fingers were resting right at the edge of my underwear. His face was still buried near my neck, and his warm breath hovered over my skin.

We were so close I could hear the quick, heavy thud of his heart against my chest. It matched the wild, crazy drumming inside my own ribs.

Outside the thin door of the toilet stall, heavy steps echoed on the floor tiles. The sound of an expensive dress was loud and clear in the quiet bathroom. A woman cleared her throat.

Panic, pure and cold, rushed through me. The heat that had been filling my body just a second ago completely went away. It was replaced by total fear.

If whoever just walked in looked down and saw a pair of men's expensive leather shoes sitting inside a ladies' toilet stall, my life was totally over.

My job at the law firm, my mother’s pride, and Mimi’s entire wedding day—everything would break into a million pieces.

Damien did not move at all. He slowly shifted his big weight, pressing his broad chest even harder against mine.

He flattened me into the wall so we took up as little space as possible. He lifted his head from my neck, his dark eyes locking onto mine in the dim light of the stall.

There was not a single hint of fear in his face. He looked totally in control. There was a dark, mean look in his eyes that told me he was actually enjoying the total fear that held my body still.

He slowly brought his lips back to the side of my ear. His breath tickled my skin.

"One peep, princess," he whispered. His rough voice was so quiet it was barely even a breath of air.

"One peep, and she walks right over here. You want to explain to your mother what my hand is doing under your dress right now?"

To prove his point, his thumb moved. He slid his hand just a tiny bit higher against my lap. His rough skin brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

A sharp gasp hit the back of my throat. I bit my lower lip so hard I could taste blood, forcing the sound down.

My eyes went wide in total pain. My hands, which were still held tightly above my head by his big grip, curled into tight fists against the wall.

He was using the person outside to totally tease me. He was testing my limits to see if I would break and scream. I stared at him through my glasses, my chest rising and falling heavily against his suit jacket. I tried to show him how much I hated him with my eyes.

Outside, the sound of water running at the sinks started. It ran for a few long seconds, then stopped. The paper towel machine cranked loudly once, then twice.

I held my breath, closing my eyes, praying to hear the main door swing shut.

Instead, the heavy sound of high heels began to move away from the sinks. They were not leaving. They were walking down the row of stalls, getting closer and closer to us.

Click. Click. Click.

The steps stopped right outside our door.

Suddenly, the metal handle shook loudly. The woman outside tried to push the door open. She totally ignored the red "occupied" sign on the lock. The metal frame groaned under the pressure as she shook it again.

My heart totally stopped beating. The blood went out of my face so fast my eyes went blurry. In a flash of pure survival instinct, Damien’s free hand flew up from my thigh.

His big palm slammed hard over my mouth once again. His fingers gripped my jaw to keep me totally silent.

He changed his stance, his broad shoulders moving as he put his big body directly in front of me. He totally blocked my green dress and my body from view in case the cheap lock broke.

"Oh, sorry! Didn't know someone was in there," a woman’s voice called out from the other side of the door. She sounded totally casual. She had no idea about the nightmare happening inches away from her face.

She turned around, her heels clicking back down the row toward the other end of the bathroom. A second later, a different stall door slammed shut, and the sound of a lock turning echoed through the room.

The relief was so sharp I felt dizzy. My forehead slid forward, resting heavily against Damien’s hard shoulder.

But Damien did not let me go. He kept his palm pressed firmly over my mouth, his eyes drilling down into mine, waiting.

We stood there in total, heavy silence for what felt like forever. We listened to the guest finish her business, walk back out to the sinks, quickly wash her hands, and finally push the main door open.

The heavy door swung shut with a soft, solid thud.

The bathroom was totally empty again.

The moment the silence came back, my body relaxed. I expected him to let me go. But Damien did not move his hand away from my mouth.

He kept me pinned, his dark eyes staring down at my pale face. His look dropped down to my lips, then to my neck, before going all the way down to the open slit of my dress.

Slowly, his other hand moved back to my thigh.

My heart did a scary flip, not from fear this time, but from a sudden, heavy rush of heat. His hand began to slide upward again, moving slowly up my lap.

My body wanted him to. Every single defensive wall I had built up over my whole life was turning to dust.

I wanted his touch. I needed him to break through the cloth and finally touch me where I was aching. My breathing got tight under his palm, and my eyes closed, waiting for him to do it.

Instead, Damien stopped. He did not touch me. He just left his heavy hand resting on my bare thigh, letting me feel the warmth of his palm. He was proving to both of us how easily he could make me melt.

Slowly, he pulled his hand away from my mouth, but he did not lower my hands from above my head.

He looked down at my face, his jaw tightening as he saw my rough breathing and the deep red color that had totally covered my cheeks.

The mean smile was totally gone from his face. It was replaced by a heavy, scary seriousness.

"You think you can play dirty with me, Sammy?" he muttered, his rough voice dropping low. "You wanted to see if you could make me mad? You did. But don't you ever use another man to do it again."

I opened my mouth to fire back a sharp insult, to tell him he did not own me, but before the words could come out, he suddenly let go of my hands.

The sudden loss of his grip made my arms drop heavily to my sides. Damien stepped back, unlocking the stall door with a quick click, and pushed it open.

He didn't look back at me. He just stepped out into the main bathroom, fixed the cuffs of his expensive black suit jacket, and walked out the door, leaving me shaking and totally breathless in the empty stall.

I stood there for a long time, my knees shaking so badly I had to lean against the toilet tank.

My skin felt hot where his hand had been. I could still smell his tobacco and leather on my clothes.

I hated him. I hated him so much for what he just did, but more than that, I hated myself because a small, dark part of me wished he hadn't stopped.

I fixed my dress, tried to smooth down my hair in the mirror, and walked back out to the party.

I didn't look at Desmond, neither did I look at Damien. I told my mother I had a bad headache, and drove home.