Ariadne
Devon Fox, a New York County District Attorney, was a phenomenal lawyer, an intelligent man, and it helped that he was very easy on the eyes. His dirty blond hair was streaked back, amplifying the sharp features of his face and collarbones. He'd give Henry Cavill a run for his money.
Devon had asked me out a number of times before and I never said yes, adamant not to get involved with people who my father worked with or associated himself with. He was a close family friend, someone who hung out with Christian and Francis often, so I saw him a fair amount.
I needed to distract myself from Damon, the way his arms felt on my waist, his lips on my fingers, his breath on my skin. He slept with women all the time. Just because he maybe flirted with me shouldn't mean anything. I needed to remove his memory from my body and thought maybe a nice dinner with a reasonable and safe man would do the trick. It couldn't hurt to try.
We sat across one another at a magnificent Mediterranean restaurant, one of my favorite cuisines, and the food was divine, a few glasses of alcohol in.
Devon was the man a Ryder wanted in their life. Devon was safe. Devon wasn't in a Hale's pocket. He was truly a good man.
He leaned back casually, grinning at me with his row of vampire perfect teeth. He had a handsome smile that reached his eyes, full of warmth and kindness. Surprising—with his track record of being the lawyer no one wanted to stand up against.
"So, what made you finally agree to going out with me?" He asked and I blushed, knowing the real answer wasn't something I wanted to divulge.
"What can I say? You wore me down."
"Don't tell me you're here under pressure."
"Of course not. I wanted to come."
"Really?"
"I think you'll find it very difficult to make me do things I don't want to do."
"Oh, now that I believe." He showed off a cunning grin that made my thighs clench immediately. God, he was pretty perfect. I might just have to let him come over tonight.
"Excuse me, ma'am." A waitress stood by our table.
"Yes, hi," I responded, smiling. She placed a cocktail in front of me, garnished with strawberries and mint. I stared at her, confused.
"Oh, I didn't order this," I told her, even though it was something I always did order.
"It's from the gentleman at that table there." She gestured to a booth in the corner. "He's the owner, actually." She gave us a polite smile and left.
I shot Devon a confused look before peering over his shoulder and immediately stilled.
Damon.
His arm was thrown lazily on the back of the black leather booth, but his steel jaw told me he was anything but relaxed. There was no food in front of him, just a bottle of Dalmore 25 and a cigar tray. I didn't think smoking was allowed in here, but all hell would break loose before anyone said no to Damon Hale. A man in a suit sat across from him, clearly talking but Damon didn't take his eyes off me.
Slowly and deliberately, he raised his glass of predictably whiskey and then took a long sip. Of course, he owned the one restaurant I came to on one date. And of course, he was there tonight.
"Is that Damon Hale?" Devon asked, amusement and curiosity lurking behind his eyes.
"Unfortunately," I clipped and pushed the cocktail away from me, pointedly continuing to drink my wine. That show of defiance awarded me with a thin smile from Damon.
"I didn't realize you know each other," Devon said, sitting up straight and adjusting his tie. He didn't like Damon, because unlike him, Devon had morals, rules, things that made him draw a line. Devon's full-time job was putting away men like Anthony and Damon Hale for life.
"Know is a gross overstatement. He's best friends with my brother but I hardly interact with him," I responded and shrugged nonchalantly.
Seeing the two of them together, I realized that despite all of Devon's features, he didn't hold a candle to the mysterious depths of Damon's gray eyes. The feel of Damon's insane body flush against mine. The way Damon's calloused but firm hand compared to Devon's manicured perfection. They both had bone structure that Armie Hammer would be envious of and yet, there was no question who dominated the room.
It was maddening. Here I was with the perfect man and now all my thoughts were directed toward a fucking mob boss.
I exaggerated my every movement when I laughed, talked, and joked with Devon for an hour. Even though the man who accompanied him left, Damon stayed, his eyes fixed onto me.
Occasionally, when Devon would reach over to hold my hand, Damon's grip would tighten on his glass, or he'd crush ice between his teeth so hard it sent shivers down my spine.
He was jealous.
Right before we agreed to leave, I excused myself to the bathroom and walked straight past Damon, not acknowledging him. Some deranged part of me hoped he'd follow.
Fixing my appearance, I resisted the urge to splash water on my flushed face when the bathroom door clicked.
My skin burned.
My heart raced.
I bit back a smile.
Through the reflection of the mirror, I saw Damon leaning against the tiled wall with his hands in his pockets, shamelessly staring at me. Somehow, I opted not to wear my usual leggings and a T-shirt and chose a short red body-con dress, courtesy of my shopping expedition with Robyn.
Tossing my long hair behind my shoulders like Bella would want me to, I took an excruciatingly long time touching up my makeup, watching his eyes swallow me through the reflection. They moved from my face, down to the low back of my dress, to my ass, and all the way down my legs. Finally, the grays lingered on my lips when I finished reapplying my lipstick with a pop.
His gaze was incinerating. As much as I want the ground to swallow me whole, I wanted him to do the same thing to me. I ignored his presence and walked to the door, stepping carefully around his legs.
Stop me. Take me.
When I moved to pull the bathroom door open, he snatched my elbow and pinned me against the wall—chest flush against mine, leaving no room between the two of us. The smell of whiskey on his breath penetrated the air between us. He stared at me with fiery gray eyes and pressed one hand against my hip, holding me to the wall, while the other hovered around my face.
Lust pooled between my legs.
My heart rate was equivalent to someone who just ran up and down the stairs of the Rose Bowl.
Damon's free hand wrapped around my neck and chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze, his lips hovering right over mine.
The urge to close my eyes and succumb to the feeling overwhelmed me but I forced myself to look into his eyes.
"What are you doing here, princess?" His breath felt hot on my cheek, tainted with the smell of liquor.
I swallowed hard. "I'm on a date."
He trailed his mouth over my jaw as he made his way lower.
"Why him?" His voice was gruff and low, seeping with jealousy. My heart danced.
"He asked me. Why do you care?"
With his body pressed me against the wall, I felt his erection push into me. A gasp escaped my lips and Damon stuck his two fingers in my mouth, pressing gently on my lower teeth. My mouth clamped over it greedily, making his eyes flare in approval. Leaning in, he hovered so close to my ear that I could feel every single one of his breaths as they exhaled on me.
"You don't know it yet, but you're mine, princess."
He removed his fingers from my mouth and my breaths became ragged as he moved his mouth back down my neck, biting it gently. I moaned with pleasure. Not to mention, I was completely and entirely soaked.
"One day soon, I'm going to have you. And you'll scream my name so fucking loud that no one in this country, let alone this city will dare lay a finger on you."
He pulled off me, impeccably dressed without a single wrinkle on his Brunello Cucinelli suit, not at all flustered while I struggled to stay standing on my feet. I didn't break my gaze, staring him down.
He knew I wasn't going home with Devon tonight, too.
"If I find out you've let him touch you, there isn't a doctor in this world who could save him, Ariadne."
"You don't get to say who touches me," I shot back.
"Try me, princess," he taunted, his voice dropping to a purr. "You won't like what you see."
Smug as always, he scanned my body one more time before walking to the door. He whisked it open, turned back, and stared me down. I felt it in my bones.
"God, you're beautiful when you're defiant."