Free Fall

Chapter 2

"You live here?" I ask breathlessly, taking in the building in front of us as Damian helps me from the passenger seat.

With a finger under my chin, he guides my gaze to the top of one of the tallest buildings in downtown manhattan.

"I live up there," he says with a chuckle. "But I own the building."

He guides my face back down to meet his eyes.

"Bellisima," he growls in his heavy Italian.

I barely contain an eye-roll and look back toward the building.

"Yes, it is."

His hand moves from my face to my waist and his fingers dig into my side firmly, but not painfully.

"Don't play games. You know what I meant."

"Oh," I say, "I thought we were trying to see who could come up with the cheesiest lines in the history of cheesy lines."

His eyes darken at my sass but he lets me move away from him to grab my small duffel bag from the back seat.

It'd been less than an hour since our conversation on the balcony. He had whisked me off as quickly as he could when we'd gone back inside the apartment. I had just enough time to throw my dad a forlorn look and promise him I'd be okay.

One of Damian's men had thrown a duffle bag my way as we got to the car, saying he packed some necessities for me, and winked. The thought of either one of them going through my delicates gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Damian's warm hand on my back pulls me from my haunting thoughts of what might be happening to my dad right now, and he leads me into the building. We walk past the main bank of elevators and around a corner to a private elevator marked 'penthouse.'

He discreetly punches an 8-number code into the pad next to the doors and they glide open a moment later with a soft ding.

"High tech," I observe.

I sense him watching me the entire elevator ride, but I don't acknowledge him. My legs feel tired and week, my knees wobbly when I walk.

I'm probably in shock. When I left work today, the last thing I expected was to be paid a visit by the love of my f*cking life who abandoned me without so much as a note eight years ago.

"May."

His voice vibrates through me and I blink through my haze to find the elevator doors open, and Damian's hand offered to me.

"Are you alright?"

I look at his hand, then up into his eyes and quirk a brow at him. With a heavy sigh, he drops his hand and steps aside for me.

I check the place out discreetly, trying to seem as disinterested as possible.

Holy f*cking luxury.

The elevator opens into a wide entryway, decorated to perfection. Even the coatrack matches the aesthetic. As I step further in, the room opens wider than I'd imagined it being. The main sitting room is massive and spacious even with a long sectional, several other chairs, two bookshelves, a TV, shall I go on?

A big, marble island counter separates my dream kitchen from the rest of the room, and in the remaining corner of the room is a wide dining table.

The bag on my shoulder grows heavier by the minute and I set it down on the nearest chair to inspect the contents.

I push things around inside the bag furiously, wondering what I'm missing or whether I'm imagining it.

When I'm absolutely sure of the contents, I pick up the largest item—a purple dick-shaped vibrator with nubs and cranks and settings galore—and throw it as hard as I can across the room at Damian

There's laughter in his eyes when he raises a hand a catches it effortlessly.

He flicks a switch and it buzzes to life.

"Has the sexual frustration become too much for you already? I'm happy to watch you put this to good use."

"Your goon packed me nothing but sex toys and lingerie as essentials. Most of these aren't even mine. What am I going to wear?"

He looks me up and down, his smirk growing with every inch his eyes cover.

The customer base at the restaurant I serve at is mainly men. I know exactly how to talk, act and dress to milk a good tip out of them.

Normally the first thing I do when I get home is put on lounge clothes. Today, that was less of an option.

"Hold your horses, asshole. I'm not staying in this."

With long, purposeful strides, he walks past me quickly and disappears down a hallway. He's back before I decide whether I should follow or not and tosses me a light cotton t-shirt and boxer shorts.

"I'll take you to get more of your stuff tomorrow."

"No." I try to hand the clothes back to him. "We'll go now."

He looks at the outstretched clothes and shakes his head.

"Tomorrow. You can wear those or nothing at all. I think you can imagine what I'd prefer, so I wouldn't wait too long or I'll make the choice for you."

As he walks past me, he adds, "And for the record, I packed the bag."