Taboo Love

Ch.2-Arrogance.

DAMIEN’S POINT OF VIEW

When I wake up, I usually want to kill someone. But today is special. I want to kill everyone!

I take a hot shower in hopes that it will relax my murderous self, then put on a pair of navy blue fit jeans, a white, casual shirt, a pair of black and white sneakers, and a black wristwatch, all while I prepare myself mentally for what’s about to come.

I go into the kitchen to drink my morning coffee, and I halt in place when I see a big guy sitting on a high chair on the kitchen island with his back to me.

His suit jacket stretches on his back, looking like it’s about to get ripped by the broad back underneath the material.

“Roman, meet my son, Damien.” My mom says in a light voice, and he turns around and gives me a quick once over before a pair of smokey, gray eyes like I’ve never seen before look straight into my green ones.

I keep eye contact at all times, and the more I look, the more I observe the details of his eyes. It looks like there’s really a whirlwind of gray smoke surrounding the black pupils, which are accentuated by his jet-black hair which is side parted and styled to perfection.

Oh, god, he’s a perfectionist.

He stands up, and I notice that he’s as tall as I am, that being 6 ft 4, maybe a half inch taller. He strides confidently but also calmly towards me, then extends his hand for me to shake it, and while keeping eye contact, so he wouldn’t think that I’m intimated by him, I take a strong grip of said hand.

His equally jet-black one-week beard is also perfectly trimmed, and the perfect shapes are accentuated by his deep-bronze skin tone, but that’s not the only thing that tells me that he’s a control freak. There is also the black, crisp suit and immaculate white shirt, which doesn’t have even one tiny wrinkle.

“Nice to meet you, Damien. I heard a few things about you.” His voice is rich and resonant, and it comes accompanied by a polite, calm, smile.

My expression is anything but calm and polite, so why the f**k is he smiling?

“Well, I didn’t. Marco just dropped the bomb on me. So, lucky you.” He lets my hand go and chuckles softly as if I said something that amused him.

I didn’t.

“Now I see what your father was talking about.” Okay. If he quits on his own, it’s not my fault.

And he will quit!

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I growl the question, and I expect him to at least lose the f*****g smile, but he doesn’t. He shakes his head lightly as if he’s getting more amused with every sentence I say.

“Damien, please...” Mom pleads with me not to snap, and I sigh heavily in defeat. He’s lucky I respect my mother too much to redecorate her kitchen with his brains.

“Roman, let me show you where you’ll be staying.” Being focused on trying to keep my cool and not blow his brains out, took my brain a bit longer to process the information that my mom just dropped.

What the f**k?

“Wait, he’s sleeping here?!”

“Yes, he will live here. The guest house is empty. Why would he rent something?” I take a deep breath to control my rage because I f*****g hate it when I’m not informed of something, no matter how important that thing is.

And the worst part? Is that now he’s f*****g smirking.

“See you later, Damien.”

“Can’t wait,” I reply sarcastically, and the smirk now reaches his gray eyes, and all I can think of is how good they would look lifeless and with a bullet between them.

He follows Mom, who seems more than happy to lead him to the guest house, and with each light chuckle, my heart is pumping more and more anger through my veins.

I don’t need a f*****g babysitter. And an annoying one at that.

After a few hours of contemplating on how to get rid of this nuisance and, unfortunately, coming up empty-handed, I go to the gym, and guess who the f**k is here?!

“Well, hello there.” He says while slightly panting, stopping from beating the s**t out of the punching bag which lay on the mattress, then standing up.

His hair is damp, and his ripped body is sweaty, and I know this because his shirt is abandoned on the floor, next to the mattress.

OK, I have to admit that he has a nice body. I can see that under all the ink on his skin, there are muscles so defined that makes me wonder if the needles didn’t break while he got tattooed.

But he still doesn’t intimidate me.

“Listen here. As soon as Marco dies, you are out of here. I don’t want or need you. I didn’t ask for you.” He smiles, making my blood boil in my veins so badly that it’s almost melting them.

“What the f**k are you smiling at?!”

“Nothing kid, nothing.” Oh, sweet Jesus! Please tell me that he didn’t just say that!

“Kid?! Are you f*****g joking?”

“You act like one. So, therefore, the pet name.” He smirks. He f*****g smirks. Holy f**k! I’ll have a heart attack. Marco wants me to die before him!

“Stay the f**k out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. Got it?”

“No can do, kid.” Oh, f**k, I’ll end up killing him.

“Stop f*****g calling me that!!!” I snap, my voice coming out deep and threatening, and to make my point, I also close the gap between us, but he doesn’t budge.

He’s still f*****g smiling!

“When you’ll stop acting like one, I’ll stop calling you that. Now, I have a proposition. I guess you can fight, right?” I think I know where he’s going with this, and my rage gets mixed with excitement.

“Yes. And?” I ask with a small smirk of my own, hoping that he’ll say what I hope and pray he’ll say.

“If I win, you let me do my job. If not, I promise I’ll stay on the bench. What do you say? Fair enough?” Thank. You. God! I don’t really believe that there’s a God, but the saying stuck with me thanks to my mom.

“And I get to kick your arrogant ass? My pleasure!” I said truthfully with a mischievous smirk, but still boiling on the inside.

“I’m not the arrogant one here.” The fact that his voice was so damn calm, and he didn’t lose his s**t even once, annoyed me even more.

“Let’s fight.” I choose to cut to the chase because I’ll definitely kill him if he smiles one more time, and he nods and pushes the bag from the mattress, then beckons me to go and join him, and I happily do.

We take our positions, circling each other while looking for weak spots and making an attack plan.

I throw the first punch, which, to my surprise, he dodges, then he throws a punch himself, which I, at my turn, dodge as well.

We keep trying to punch each other, throwing hits and dodging them, and after about five minutes he punches me in the jaw, successfully managing to make me take a few steps back and almost lose my balance, but only almost.

I feel blood in my mouth, but I’m not surprised because the fucker has a mean right hook and if I wasn’t so used to fighting, that punch would have put me to sleep, but I am, so, unfortunately for him, he’ll have to do more than that to clock me out.

I quickly recover and low kick him in the knee, making him lose his stance, and I take advantage of that and uppercut him.

I smile satisfied when I see blood sliding down his chin from his lip, and he returns the smile while licking his bottom lip clean of blood, causing his pink tongue to-- I somehow find myself on the floor, and he grabs my hands, quickly turns, and shifts until he’s behind me, his legs squeezing my waist, and his forearm pushing against my throat, strangling the life out of me.

How the f**k did I end up here? I shouldn’t have lost my focus. I saw blood before... oh, f**k, never mind.

“Tap out.” He says in a deep but also breathless voice, but I don’t say a thing. I’m trying to escape his grip which is getting tighter and tighter.

“You’re fighting it too hard. You’ll pass out.” f**k him and his advice.

I ignore him and try to find a way out of this f*****g tight grip because one thing is for sure. I do not f*****g tap out even if I end up dead. I struggle to inhale the oxygen my lungs and brain need to function through my nose, but I only get a small sniff of sweat mixed with my favorite scent, rosewood.

I get dizzy, my vision is getting blurry.

Fuck!

ROMAN’S POINT OF VIEW

From what I could see until now, he is an arrogant prick, but a hot one.

He’s as big as I am, his eyes are a meadow green color, so hypnotizing that I lost myself in them for a second. If he would be gay, and not a prick-- nope.

He’s my friend’s son, and he’s 15 years younger than me.

He lost consciousness and I let go of him, take the bottle of water and splash it on his face, then lay on the side next to him, waiting for him to wake up.

His hearty lips are full, and they look almost too soft to be real. He is shaved clean, his jaw is sharper than a blade, and his nose is thin and straight, so perfect that it makes me wonder if he had his nose done. Okay, I doubt that he had a nose job, but damn, if a nose can be hot, his is.

His skin is light and clear, his cheekbones are high, and his lashes are thick and a little curved. His eyebrows are natural and have a soft arch to them. His thick, dark brown hair now looks almost black from the sweat, his perfect fore-- I hear him grunt, and I stop the... evaluation, and put a smile on my face.

“Morning, princess.” I mock and smile amused, just to f**k with him.

“f**k off!” He curses in a hoarse voice, -the result of me strangling him-, clearly frustrated, making me smile bigger.

“You should learn to respect your elders. Especially the ones who can kick your ass.”

“Yeah. You’re what? Five years older than me?”

“Add another ten, kid.” His arched eyebrows shoot up in shock.

“You’re 45?”

“That’s what my birth certificate says.” He opens his mouth to say something, but he quickly closes it, deciding against saying something nice.

“Why the Hell are you smiling?”

“Why not? Life is too short to be an arrogant prick all the time.” He supports himself on his elbows and raises his eyebrows so high that they almost reach his hairline.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Take what you want from it. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I need you to take me to every spot you have, and see how many men you need.” He takes a big breath and closes his eyes in frustration.

“This was luck!”

“Call it how you want. As long as I won, I don’t need a medal.” I have more than enough, and they don’t help me sleep at night.

I get up and go get my bag.

“You’ll quit!” He yells when I’m close to the exit, and as I turn around, I see him smiling mischievously. Nice smile.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not the quitting type. But if that makes you sleep better at night…” He shakes his head and runs his hand over his face in frustration, and I give him one more smile, then turn and go.

“Night, kid.”

“STOP. CALLING. ME. THAT!” He emphasizes every word with boiling anger in his powerful voice that boomed the gym, and I laugh to myself and continue my way.

He will be a pain in the ass.

After a much-needed hot shower, I put on a pair of boxers, open my laptop, and call my sister.