THE DEVIL KNOWS MY NAME

DARLA

"What the hell were you thinking, going into a place like that?"

Donomie's voice cut through the apartment the second the door closed behind us. I flinched because it almost caught my shoulder.

So much for any gentleman act. I still remembered our first meeting.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said while I dropped onto the sofa.

"Thought your days were just pouring coffee."

"You sound quick to judge for a man who pays for sex." A sarcastic smile tugged at my lips.

He smirked faintly, as if I'd said something amusing.

"I'd rather pay than sell myself."

"Same thing," I murmured, letting the words hang. "But I've been paid now. You can walk out that door anytime, Mr. Lawson."

He didn't budge.

Anger and hunger twisted in his stare until the space between us felt charged.

"What are you really after?" His voice dropped low.

I shifted closer.

His breath brushed my lips, whiskey and heat.

"I came for something good," I said quietly. "Not sure you can deliver."

His jaw flexed once.

In a single motion, he shrugged off his jacket, revealing a broad chest with dark hair trailing downward, and my pulse kicked hard against my ribs, betraying every ounce of composure I was pretending to have.

"Want to test that?"

Before I could answer, he caught my wrist and guided my palm to the thick heat straining behind his zipper. The contact sent a sharp rush through my veins, stealing the air from my lungs.

My fingers curled instinctively, stroking once, slow and deliberate, then firmer, hungrier, even as every sensible thought in my head urged me to pull away.

My body ignored it.

This was reckless. It was messy. And yet the ache between my legs overrode everything else.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his mouth as he stepped back just enough to loosen his tie and let it fall. He unbuttoned his shirt gradually, one piece at a time, until muscle and faint scars caught the dim light.

I swallowed, unable to look anywhere else.

He turned me gently, but with unmistakable purpose, and slid my zipper down in one smooth motion. The dress slipped over my skin and pooled at my feet. My panties followed, his thumbs hooking into the fabric and dragging them down slowly enough that cool air brushed my thighs before his hands returned, warm and certain.

His fingers moved between my folds and discovered how wet I already was. A sharp breath escaped me as my hips tilted toward him without permission.

He rolled the condom on with quick, practiced ease before sinking onto the sofa and drawing me over him in a single, deliberate motion. I straddled his lap, one hand braced against his shoulder while the other guided him to my entrance.

His grip tightened at my hip just before he thrust upward in a long, stretching glide that filled me completely and scattered my thoughts.

"Oh... fuck." The words slipped out on a shaky exhale as fullness blurred the line between ache and bliss.

Our eyes locked, and for a single breath, the rest of the world disappeared.

I leaned down and kissed him, tentative at first, then desperate. He groaned low against my mouth as my body tightened around him, release crashing through me. I muffled the cry against his lips while tremors rippled down my spine.

Without breaking rhythm, he lifted me and turned me, positioning me on my knees at the sofa's edge. When he slid back in, the deeper angle sent sparks racing through me. My breath caught with each thrust. My nails scraped the leather beneath us.

Shame coiled tight in my chest. He had paid for this, and yet I pushed back against him, greedy for every inch, like I couldn't get enough of the man who had bought me.

"I'm close again," I gasped.

"Come for me." His voice was rough. Fingers slipped into my hair, tilting my head back. "Let go completely."

One final deep thrust. He held there, buried inside me, and the heat of him sent my climax soaring. I shook through it, vision blurring as the wave crashed over me.

Sweat clung to our skin. My limbs went heavy and loose as the tension finally drained away.

He eased out slowly. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath, chest rising and falling hard.

"Shower." He reached for my hand.

Steam filled the bathroom as hot water ran. He peeled off the condom and tossed it aside, then unhooked my bra with careful fingers. The mirror reflected us both, his sharp edges and control, my flushed skin and tangled hair.

Fifteen minutes in his space, and every line I had sworn I wouldn't cross had disappeared.

He brushed my hair from my neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin there. "You were unreal," he breathed against my ear.

I lifted my hand to his cheek, meeting his eyes in the glass. Then I turned and kissed him slowly. The kiss deepened fast, heat, tongues, urgency. He pressed me against the tile, body hardening again as it slid against my stomach.

My legs wrapped around his waist. He lifted me easily and sank back inside, smooth, perfect, devastatingly precise. Something twisted painfully in my chest, as if this was exactly where we were supposed to be.

"Fuck," he whispered into my mouth.

Then he stilled.

He pulled out abruptly, lowering me to my feet with hands that trembled.

"What's wrong?" My voice came out thin.

He dragged a hand over his face, eyes dark and distant. "I can't do this. Not like this."

"Donomie-"

He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and walked out without another word.

He's probably grabbing a condom...

I twisted the knob and let the hot water run, stepping beneath the spray. Steam rose around me, warm against my skin. A shaky, confused smile spread across my lips, even as my thoughts whirled.

This night didn't make sense.

When he returned, he was fully dressed, shirt tucked in, jacket slung over his arm.

"I've got to go," he said.

"What?"

His eyes locked on mine, but he didn't explain.

"What are you doing?" I frowned. "We have all night together."

"I'll see you later."

Without another word, he rushed out of the room.

I shut off the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack, running after him.

"What? Why?" I called out.

"I have to go."

"Where?"

"Home."

My stomach dropped as the pieces clicked together.

"Are you kidding me?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

He didn't answer.

"Are you... married?"