Nova

"Stretch that out for me,Nova ," he whispered, sliding his hands down my back. My bent knees were digging into the mattress, the side of my cheek pressed into the sheets. I was breathing heavily, and my skin was laced with sweat and my muscles ached but I had never felt better.

I raised my hands, sliding them over my ass and I did as he asked. "Oh fuck. Just like that," he breathed. "Just like that. I wish you could see how beautiful this looks." When he moved his hips, he slid in deeper than before and my moan and whimper was muffled by the bed. I didn't want it to end.

My pussy tightened around him, and I felt his gasp on the back of my neck. He kissed my skin -silencing his own moans until nothing but soft groans came from his chest.Damian parted his lips, laying open mouth kisses on me until he flicked his tongue out and—

"Nova."

Dammit.

Three months later and I was still thinking

about him, while I was supposed to be invested in the date I was currently having.

The mental images were vivid, a reminder

about how Damian fucked me until the sun brightened the room and my legs were too unbalanced to walk. How was it possible that I still thought about him? Still felt him? I must have zoned out while Diego went on and on about the property he had just sold. Or bought. I couldn't tell you.

I blamed my situation on my friend silvana who had encouraged this date with one of her co-workers. She hadn't mentioned that he was her boss-and also a fancy CEO whose conversations consisted of stock markets and political analytics. He also picked one of the most expensive restaurants in the city and mentioned about fifty times how difficult it was to acquire a reservation.

I had to have a word with Silvana afterwards. I

was bored, but I must have done a good job at concealing it because Diego paid no mind to my lack of attention.

"As I was saying," he said, and I straightened my shoulders because I didn't want to be rude. "Invest early. Invest while there's opportunities for a great spike in the market."

What the fuck was he talking about?

"Right," I drawled, humouring him. It was a pity I wasn't attracted to him. Diego wasn't terrible looking. On the contrary actually. He was very...clean. Neat suit, neat blonde hair and a dashing smile. His hands had no scars, no cuts-and his wrist held a silver watch. Silver...

Diego nodded. "Enough about me. Tell me about yourself."

I had to stop my nose from wrinkling. My mind always hit a blank whenever anyone told me to describe myself.

"What do you do for a living? Are you studying?" he asked, setting his elbows on the table as he held his hands. He seemed genuinely curious, or perhaps he was humouring me too.

"Studying, yes. But I don't attend classes. I take them online," I said, and he nodded again.

"Oh. What are you studying?" he asked, using the same monotonous voice he had been using since we arrived at the restaurant.

"Liberal arts," I said, and the way he leaned back into his seat told me he wasn't exactly impressed. I raised my eyebrow at him. Sure, I wasn't a business woman with numerous academic accomplishments under my belt but the judgement I felt had me close to reaching across the table and smacking that look off his face.

"How do your parents feel about that?" he asked me, a frown lingering on his forehead. I almost choked.

What the fuck— who did Rose set me up with because she surely she must have known that Diego was the farthest thing from my type.

"Excuse me?" I asked, slightly appalled.

He shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you I ask things without thinking and..." I scoffed, looking away from him and my eyes landed on the entrance of the restaurant.

The doors were opened by a chauffeur and in walked a woman, dressed in a beautiful nightgown with a white fur shawl draped over her shoulders. She was joined by a man-his taller frame cladded in a three piece suit. My immediate thought was how absolutely stunning they looked as a couple.

"I'm just very business orientated and—" Diego was still talking, and I was hearing him but not listening.

He just kept rambling, about something that didn't interest me at all. I was about to look away from the pair, when another man walked up behind the couple and I had to stop my jaw from dropping.

Immediately, I relieved the memories I thought of not too long ago as I stared at Damian . He hadn't seen me yet, too occupied by conversing with the older man and from where I sat, I could hear the foreign language.

That's when I noticed the resemblance.

"It doesn't make sense to me when anyone chooses an occupation that isn't going to financially benefit them..." If I wasn't caught up on making sure my eyes weren't deceiving me, I would have thrown Diego the deadliest glare.

But Valerio was there, and suddenly he was looking at me.

Our eyes locked, and it was barely a moment when his gaze flickered to the back of Diego's head.

"This generation is all caught up on doing what they love, instead of what they need to—" This generation? How fucking old was this guy?

Damian looked away, and that was it. We barely acknowledged each other, and the brief interaction was hardly an interaction. As I looked at Diego, I couldn't help but feel flustered that the man who gave me the best multiple and consecutive orgasms of my life was standing just a few feet away. If possible, he looked better. They were led to the more private part of the restaurant until they were

completely out of my sight.

"I have to use the restroom. Excuse me," Diego said, pushing himself off the seat. I sighed,

grateful for the time away from him. When he was gone, I wrapped my hand around my wine glass and brought it up to my lips, taking a generous gulp while I decided on what I should do.

I wasn't feeling the date, and I contemplated just getting up and leaving. Yet again, I blamed Rose because I promised her I'll try. I took a deep breath in, setting my chin on my palm. I decided that when Diego returned, I was going to cut our date short.

I sat there, staring down at the screen of my phone while I sent Rose a quick text. Without looking, I felt Diego sit at the table.

Only, it wasn't Diego.

I raised my head, expecting to find dead blue eyes but instead I was met with soft brown ones.

As if on instinct, my entire body warmed up. I wasn't expecting him to approach me, much less sit down in my date's seat. He didn't seem to care. I looked in the direction of the restrooms, hoping that Diego wasn't returning soon.

"Nova," he said, a gentle smile on his face as he gazed at me. "When did you get back?"

That voice...That accent.

Wasn't he supposed to be ignoring me? Isn't

that what one night stands did? I must have missed the memo.

"Yesterday," I said, remembering that I told him I'd be leaving the city. I had visited my sister and took a much needed vacation, but right then-I wasn't sure if returning was a good idea.

"Yesterday," he repeated, and then he tilted his head and paused for a moment. "If I had known_”

"Damian, my date's going to be back soon," I interjected him, eyes darting between a nonchalant Damian and the path leading to the restrooms. He clasped his hands together, and my gaze dropped to the tattoos on his knuckles.

Those hands...

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hide how I felt. Sometimes, I hated my imagination because in that moment, I thought about how those fingers enclosed around my throat as he held me down.

He smiled, showing me those childlike dimples and with a shrug he said, "I don't care."

My lips parted. "I care." I did not care. But I didn't want to possibly hurt Diego's feelings,despite him being the worst converser ever.

"I don't think you do,"Damian murmured, and he was right.

I leaned forward, and whispered. "How would you know?"

He did the same, and his eyes dropped to my cleavage in the same manner as the first night we met. I let him look, only because I liked how he smirked.

"I know what your face looks like when you want someone, and I'm afraid your date is the exact opposite," he explained, and I glared at him. His accuracy was baffling, but I suppose that he knew exactly how my face looked when I wanted someone.

He would be an expert in that department.

I raised my head, happy to find that Diego hadn't returned yet. I thought nothing of it, until I realised that Diego might have actually left. I would only be so lucky.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, picking up my wine glass and I took the last sip.

"You're asking as if I didn't fuck you for three hours straight," he said with a small humourless chuckle, his words crude but his face casual. My eyes widened, and I scanned the patrons to make sure that nobody had heard him.

What was Damian’s motive? If he wanted to fuck, he could have just said so.

I looked back at him, surprised to find that his jaw was ticking and all hints of playfulness was long gone. Was Damian jealous? He couldn't be. Like I said, it was one fucking night.

"Even now-the way you're looking at me. Do you know how I felt when I woke up the next morning and realised I had no way of contacting you?" he asked, looking to the side before meeting my eyes once again. After our night, I had crawled out of his arms and left before he woke up. I still regret it, but he didn't need to know that.

"You left before I could ask," he said and leaned back into my seat. He was eyeing me intensively, and I had to try really fucking hard to not let the effect he had on me show.

"Damian—" I murmured.Damian was invading, but his company was already vastly better than my own date.

"Nova," he replied, and I hated how good my name sounded.

"What do you want?" I asked, finishing up my wine.

"I want you to tell your date that you won't be seeing him again," he muttered, looking at me with an expression that said he wasn't joking. I was going to do it either way, but Damian’s demands had me scowling at him. I didn't know him, but he was telling me what to do and I didn't like it.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, reaching over the table and I felt him play with my hair, right above my cleavage "You know you want to," I did, and I was going to but not because he told me to.

I looked up, catching Diego walking towards us with a confused expression on his face. I grimaced, averting my attention back to Damian.

"Fine, I will," I said hastily and he leaned back, a smile on his face as he stood up. I thought he was going to leave and return to his parents because that's where he was supposed to be. Instead he walked over to my side of the table until he was just inches away from me. The proximity had my heart racing, despite him not even touching me as he lowered his head.

Fuck-he smelled so good.

His lips were close to my ear, almost touching my skin and then he whispered, "good girl."

I couldn't comprehend the ache between my thighs before he straightened up and walked away, leaving me a flustered mess. As soon as my eyes landed on Diego's face, the throb disappeared as soon as it came. I shifted in my seat, struggling to not look in the direction that Damian went.

What the fuck just happened? He sat down— spoke to me for a few minutes and I felt more than what I did in the entire three months.

"Who's that?" Diego questioned, an unhappy frown between his brows.

I cleared my throat. "A friend."

He nodded, and I was relieved when he didn't pester.

Diego walked me to my car, laid a hand on my shoulder and as soon as I saw the sympathetic expression, I knew what was coming

"I'm sorry,Nova. I don't think this is going to work out," Diego murmured. "You're very pretty but I don't think you're my type,"

I had to physically stop myself from smiling. If only he knew how fucking thankful I was that the night was over. I hadn't seen Damian again— and I didn't know if I should be happy about that or not. Either way, I was excited to head home.

"You're right. I don't think we should see each other again," I said, grinning as I unlocked my car. Diego nodded, gave the roof of my car a quick tap and he spun around on his heels. I breathed out, opening my door and I slumped into the drivers seat.

I sat there, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that yet again Damian had no way of contacting me.

Atleast that’s what I thought.