CHASE ME, HUSBAND

Irene’s POV His Adam's apple bobbed as his arm wrapped around my waist, tugging me closer. “Touch it. See what you’ve done to me.” Guiding my hand, he let me rest it against his pants. Brushing my finger against his hot bulge, I stiffened. God, I need this. Him. We didn’t utter one more word to each other as he held my hand, pulling me through the crowd of sweaty bodies on the dance floor, while I trotted after him. His strides were impatient, my breath uneven. Massaging the skin above my chest, I prayed I wouldn't squirt before we got to wherever we were going. And the moment we got into the elevator, he glanced at me. “Stop doing that.” He ordered. I paused with my hand movement, my brows folding. “That thing you’re doing near those fucking tits.” Opening my mouth to say something, I closed it, too stunned to speak. I’d say my bra size was a little below a C-cup and nothing to write home about if he was actually a boob guy. Not all that attractive, at least to me. “

Damian’s POV I watched her through the tint of my window, my breath heavy as I patted my fly, calming my big guy down. Fuck, she almost killed me. Irene Reynolds drove me crazy. To think I had been delusional enough to believe I’d keep to my promise of self-control if I played with her a bit, only to lose my composure. She threw something in the trash can and walked off to stand by the street, her nose scrunched up and her hair falling in tangled waves over her shoulders. Flexing my fingers, I remembered how soft her hair texture felt in my palms a few minutes ago. Putting my hand against my nose, I sniffed. “Vanilla, again, fuck.” I groaned. Before I collected myself, she already waved down a cab and got in so I started my car, following closely. The fact that I almost had her but let the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away made me want to run myself into a truck. But that wasn’t how I wanted our first sex to be. I didn’t want to be the stranger she offered

Damian’s POV I tore my gaze from her thighs, looking up to find her eyes blazing with fury. "Oh, it's Mr Stranger, the ditcher," she said. “It's Damian. But you can call me Mr. Free Fuck. I was close to getting my way the other day, wasn't I?” I asked, my lips twitching in amusement. She huffed, whirling around on her heels so that it made a squeaky sound. She was about to walk off. "I'd sit and talk if I were you. You don't really have much of a choice, do you?” I asked, and she stopped short. Turning around, she tilted her head. “Excuse me?” Apparently, the waiter must have sensed the tension as he immediately fixed the bottle of champagne in the middle of the table. “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Russo.” He said, hurrying off. Her eyes twitched, and something between rage and curiosity danced in them. Shit, maybe I sounded too revealing, but was there a better way to make her stop and hear me out? “Sit, Irene.” I gestured to the chair across from me, taking my

Irene’s POV He gave a slight close-lipped smile, and I pressed my lips together, searching Mom’s face. “He said he'd dropped by from the meeting. With your dad.” She mouthed. Pulling a chair back for me right across from Damian’s, she leaned in. “Be nice.” I puffed out a breath before collapsing into the chair. At first his eyes lifted to mine, assessing me before they fell full focus on his plate as he stabbed his fork into the steak, fixing it in his mouth. Each time his lips parted, my breath caught in my throat as I watched how the piece of meat slipped into his mouth. Suddenly, I was jealous of the meat. Stop, Rene. I should act mad. Stay mad. For one, I hated how I found myself swallowing thick saliva as his full pink lips moved. The muscles in his neck bobbed as the food disappeared down his throat. This enticing asshole made me a hungry woman. I had to admit it. “It might actually make you feel better if you eat. Stare later.” The words came out of

Irene's POV I moved closer, my chin raised, eyes roaming over him as he stared daggers at Mike, the guy beside me.“Look, I'm with someone. Okay and I—" The words hung in my throat as he gave Mike one last dirty look, clenched his jaw, and walked off.I blinked, my mind reeling.What just happened? Did he just leave without saying a word to me?"Hmm, who's that? He looked really pissed," Mike said, guiding me to the bar.I stumbled along, my knees shaking a bit at what just happened in a span of like five seconds.Makes me wonder if he basically camps at all the clubs in Brooklyn.Didn't he come here for me? Or was I feeling too important?“Rene?” Mike nudged me as I sat beside him.From the way his brow cocked, I knew my expression was blank.“You look like you just saw your scrawny ex.” He said.Pouting, I shook my head.“Neil’s 5.9. He's not even close to that word.” I defended, hating how intense I sounded.Mike's mouth fell open for a bit before he adjusted his glasses.“Tell me