Unfinished Business part 4

I stayed.

I told myself it was only until he came back from the meeting, that I would hear whatever he had to say and then decide. The suite felt too quiet without him. I borrowed one of his shirts, ordered coffee from room service, and tried not to count the minutes.

Just after one o’clock the door opened.

Damien walked in still wearing the same dark suit from the morning, tie loosened, expression unreadable. His eyes found me immediately, curled on the couch in his shirt, bare legs tucked under me, and something possessive flickered across his face before he shut it down.

“You’re still here.”

“You told me to wait.”

He set his phone and keys on the console table. “Board ran long. Hostile questions about the merger. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He looked at me for another second, then nodded toward the bathroom. “I need five minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

He disappeared into the master bath. A moment later I heard the shower start.

I sat there for thirty seconds, heart already picking up speed. Then I stood, pulled his shirt over my head, and left it on the floor.

The bathroom was full of steam. Glass walls of the shower were fogged, but I could still see the outline of him under the spray, broad back, water running down the hard lines of muscle. I opened the door and stepped in naked.

Damien turned. Water sluiced over his shoulders and chest. His gaze dropped the length of my body and darkened.

“Lila…”

I didn’t give him time to finish. I dropped to my knees on the wet tile, took him in my hand, and closed my mouth around the head of his cock. He was already half-hard; he thickened fully against my tongue within seconds. A rough sound left his throat. One hand braced against the glass wall while the other found my hair.

I sucked him deeper, water running over both of us, the heat of the spray mixing with the heat of his skin. I worked him with my mouth and hand, wet sounds loud even under the rush of water. His hips flexed once, controlled.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Look at you.”

I pulled off just long enough to glance up, then took him again, hollowing my cheeks. His grip in my hair tightened. After another minute he hauled me up by the arms, spun me, and pressed my front against the cool glass of the shower door. The contrast made me gasp. He kicked my feet apart, lined himself up, and pushed inside in one long, hard thrust.

The stretch pulled a broken sound from my throat. Wet heat surrounded us—water, skin, the slick slide of him moving in and out. He fucked me against the glass with deep, steady strokes, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. Every thrust forced a soft, helpless sound out of me. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the small space.

“Still so tight,” he rasped against my ear. “Still take me like you can’t get enough.”

I pushed back to meet him. He groaned and drove harder. The glass fogged thicker under my palms. Pressure built low and fast. I was close when his rhythm faltered.

“I’m going to come,” he warned, voice strained.

He pulled out suddenly, turned me around, and stroked himself twice. Then he finished across my lips and chin and the tops of my breasts, hot and thick, while a rough sound tore out of his chest. I stayed still and let him mark me, water washing some of it away almost immediately.

For a long moment the only sounds were the shower and our breathing.

Damien reached past me and shut the water off. He didn’t speak while he cleaned us both with efficient, careful hands, wiping my face, rinsing my skin, wrapping a towel around me before taking one for himself. The silence felt heavier once we stepped out into the cooler air of the suite.

We dressed in quiet. I put his shirt back on. He pulled on fresh trousers and a clean T-shirt, then sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me.

“We need to talk about this,” he said.

I stayed standing. “About whether we’re getting back together.”

“Yes.”

“And?”

He dragged a hand through his damp hair. “I want you. That part isn’t complicated. The rest is. My company is in the middle of a public merger. Your firm represents one of the secondary stakeholders. If anyone connects us right now it becomes a conflict-of-interest problem for both sides. I can’t afford the optics, and neither can you.”

Something cold settled in my stomach. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we keep this quiet for now. No public appearances. No overnight stays at each other’s places once we leave this hotel. We see each other when we can, carefully, until the deal closes in six weeks.”

I stared at him. “You want me as a secret.”

“I want you without tanking either of our careers.”

“That’s not the same thing.” My voice came out tighter than I intended. “You left me once without warning. Now you’re back and the first real conversation we have is about how I have to stay hidden.”

His jaw flexed. “It’s temporary.”

“It feels familiar.”

“Lila…”

“No.” I shook my head, already moving to gather my dress and heels from the night before. “I waited four years to stop wondering what I did wrong. I’m not going to start wondering again while you decide I’m convenient only behind closed doors.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“It sounds exactly like what this is.” I stepped into the dress and pulled the zipper up myself. My hands were steady only because I refused to let them shake. “I’m leaving.”

Damien stood. “Stay. We can figure it out.”

“You already decided how it works.” I slipped my shoes on and picked up my clutch. “I’ll be the one who decides whether I accept it.”

I walked out before he could answer. The door shut harder than I meant it to.

In the elevator I stared at my own reflection in the mirrored wall, flushed skin, damp hair, the faint red marks his mouth had left on my neck, and felt anger and hurt twist together under my ribs.

I wasn’t finished with him.

But I wasn’t going to make it easy this time either.