The ditcher

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 own seat.

Her fingers drummed against the chair as her brows folded.

Then she finally took the seat.

Damn. She looked fucking hot. I was finding it hard to keep my eyes elsewhere than on her.

"First off, what gives you the right to say my nam like that? We barely know each other."

Rolling my tongue across my teeth, I leaned back into my seat.

“Wrong question. I think you want to know what I was doing there. At the club.”

Dropping her bag, she let out a sharp laugh.

“Right. You've been stalking me. I could let the cops in on you.”

“Or you could be grateful I'm meeting you for dinner. Even if I have a hundred reasons not to.”

Her nose scrunched up at my words. Exactly in that pretty way that moved muscles in the pit of my stomach.

Can I sit through this dinner without losing my head?

“Arrogant asshole. That's how you just sounded. What makes you think I feel any of that? Why are you even here?” She threw those questions at me, and for the third time today I ached to throw myself across the table and kiss her breathless.

Then she'd find out why the hell I'm seated, stiff as fuck, in this fancy restaurant.

Because I knew she liked places like this.

Leaning on my elbows, I tried to ignore the constant twinge in my groin area as I looked into her eyes.

“Your family. They're going under. Real soon. As much as I'd like to let you in on the full details, I hate the way you're making that sound.” I said, my eyes resting on her collarbones where she was tapping away with her fingers.

Her eyes followed mine, and she stopped, flipping her hair to the back.

“See, Dan—“

“Damian.” I corrected, and her lips pursed, her eyes rolling like she gave zero fucks about my name.

She should.

Soon, my name would be on those beautiful lips more often than she’d have ever imagined.

“I'm not interested in you or whatever you have to say.”

“If my dad put you up to this or anything. For your sanity I say you, ABORT. MISSION." She finished, and my lips curled at the corners of my mouth at how interesting this all is.

I loved the way strands of her red hair glistened under the dim lights, like fragments of the evening sun were scattered all over it.

My sanity? I wish she knew how close I was to insanity with how much I was aching inside. For her.

Settling back in my chair, I said.

“Then that's too bad. You'd be leaving your dad in the hole. He'd want his precious daughter to do better, pray him.” Sarcasm filled my tone, and I watched the scales fall from her eyes.

Now, she was interested.

Her brow cocked as she asked,

“Debt? What do you even know about my family to say that?”

Slipping out my phone from my jacket, I started.

“I’m sure you were too stuck up being Daddy's princess to watch stock news. I call it, being pretty green.”

Holding my phone up, I zoomed in on a graph that displayed stocks from different huge companies in NYC.

Making sure to zoom in on Reynolds Holdings even if I doubted she'd be able to grasp the meaning on the spot.

Squinting her eyes, she mouthed,

“Reynolds Holdings, 2-7% drop.”

Withdrawing her face from my screen, she shrugged.

“What does this have to do with me? This blind date?”

Bringing my phone down, I ran a thumb across my stubble, my brows drawn in fake contemplation.

"Uh... I figured out that since the Reynolds Holdings were making a 2-7% drop in stock, I’ll hold on. Because by now, the others already want out.”

“I mean, who doesn’t want a run for their money?” I asked and her brows wrinkled.

Shaking her head, she picked up her bag.

“This isn't going anywhere. And it wasn’t nice to meet you." She made to stand up when I said,

“You're flat broke, dollface. That's what it means.” I said, and she sat back in her chair, her eyes blinking.

“The 2%—“

“Place your order. Eat with me, and let's pretend we actually enjoyed each other's company.”

“Because by this time next week. We’re getting engaged.” I announced, and her lips pressed together, the corners of her eyes flickering with realization.

“Is this the only way you can help? I don't want to get married to you. Or anyone else. Especially now.” Her voice was tight, and I didn't miss the meaning behind it.

It was her fucking ex.

My chest tightened at the 1% chance she actually missed the loser.

I'll make her forget. I'll try. Even if it's by playing dirty. Those were the only cares I had in the world.

“But you didn't mind it when a stranger almost hit on you. That's saying a lot."

She frowned, linking her fingers together.

“That's different. I just wanted to let loose with someone. Anyone down for it.”

My jaw clenched as I straightened up.

“Anyone? That means you could have given it to anyone else, Irene. Is that what you mean?” I asked, and even for me, my tone sounded too personal.

Drawing her head back, she eyed me.

"Um...yeah. One-time sex can be with anyone. Isn't that the point of it?”

Jesus. This sharp-mouthed girl. When I start teaching her lessons, I'll make sure that mouth is wrapped around my cock to stop unnecessary words from coming out of it.

“Well, you're with me now. So you'll have to stop all of that.” I said, and she coughed a laugh, ruffling her hair.

“You're already getting into the husband duties. But hey, sorry to not be sorry. I'm never going to be your wife.”

A smirk pushed the corners of my lips as I leaned closer.

“But you'll let me get down.” My eyes strayed to her half-naked thighs across the table, and her cheeks flushed as she tried to squeeze them together.

“You missed a chance. That's on you.” She said in a small, unconvincing voice, but I saw how heat crawled up her face.

How she avoided my eyes, looking elsewhere, and fuck me if I didn't feel tightness knotting my groin area.

I knew she wanted it too. Not me. What I can give.

“Three dates.” I started, and her eyes flew up to mine.

“Three dates. I'd convince you to give me another chance. If I fail, then I'd let you walk away.”

I noticed a muscle in her neck popping, like air was trying to escape through her throat but she was holding it in.

The excitement.

She loved it. The thrill of getting chased.

This little temptress loved to tempt.

“I'll think about it.” She uttered in a small voice, and my eyes fell on her lips, lingering there.

“I bet you won't have much of a choice. Soon. Let's just hope you don't get desperate.” I said, and she smiled a bit, her eyes fixed on me.

“Desperate? Me and that word don't mix.”

Getting to her feet, her back arched to a disturbing extent as she bent to take her bag, the hem of her skirt pulling up.

I almost lost my cool as a guy from the next table stole a glance.

Reaching for my jacket, I took it from the chair, pretending to dust it out, blocking the view of her back till she straightened up.

This woman.

“Even if my family were going under. You're the last man I'll get married to." She added, and my fist balled from under the desk.

I didn't like what she said at all. But she doesn't know it yet.

“But you'll give me a free fuck. Or anyone else. Way too cheap if you asked.”

Her cheeks glowed red with embarrassment.

“You—“

“I get what I want, doll face. Who, I want.” I cut in.

Eyeing me, she swallowed her words, walking out.

I couldn't miss how much her hips swayed, and a something rose up in my throat as I watched.

Lust, maybe. Attraction, yes.

She was stubborn. And I've never shied away from a good challenge.

A small flyer was left where she was seated, and I picked it up.

Standing up, I walked out of the restaurant, making sure to keep up with her but not too close.

Stretching out the flyer, I glanced through it.

Something about a campus event and an upcoming exhibition.

The sound of wheels slowing down made me lift my head as I stood by the corner, watching.

She got into a cab and left.