002

Noelle

I slipped the last strap of my dress into place and leaned closer to the mirror. The low neckline plunged just enough to tease, while the fabric hugged every curve I usually tried to tame. Tonight, I wasn’t taming a damn thing. Tonight, I wanted to be seen, and like hell if I was going to let that stop me.

I puffed up the curls of my hair as it curled in soft waves over my shoulders. My lips were painted crimson, and it was exactly the kind of look Evan had always told me was “too much.”

Too much for him maybe, but not for me, and definitely not for any man I would be going home with tonight. Yes, I'd told mother the only reason I agreed to her date was to get to know him, but I had plans of my own.

Plans that mostly involved lots of alcohol, getting in another man's bed and being fucked senseless.

My phone buzzed on the vanity, pulling me back to reality. A notification lit up the screen, and my stomach knotted the moment I saw the name. Harper.

Against my better judgment, I opened it, and believe me when I said I wish I hadn't.

The picture she'd just posted hit like a slap. It was a photo of her and Evan, their lips locked, and her arms draped around his shoulders. The caption dripped with sweetness, one that made my stomach churn.

Three years strong with my forever. Bullshit.

My vision went red. A strangled laugh tore out of me as I blocked them both with one furious swipe. I'd meant everything I told them earlier today, and I wouldn’t let them haunt my feed, my phone, or my life.

I was still stewing in my fury when another ping rocked my phone. This time though, it was my mother.

Your date: 9PM. Verona Bar. His name’s Damian. Play nice, sweetheart.

A blind date. My first in years. I didn’t know if this was courage or madness, but it was better than sitting here drowning in betrayal.

“Play nice,” I muttered to myself, grabbing my clutch. “Not a chance.”

The Verona Bar pulsed with low lighting and expensive liquor, velvet booths lining the walls, alongside a hum of laughter that spilled through the air. I walked in with my heels clicking against the polished floor, clutch in one hand, phone in the other. It didn't take too long for me to pick out a seat, and I chose the one close to the bar.

Pulling up the profile my mother had made for me, I nearly rolled my eyes at the cheesy description.

“Adventurous soul, hopeless romantic,” I almost barfed at my mother's attempt to describe me. “loves cooking and family dinners.”

I hadn’t written a word of it, and I hoped whoever mum had matched me with, wouldn't mind not being a gentleman , but being more of a beast in bed instead.

“I sound like a Hallmark card,” I muttered. I was still scrolling, when a shadow fell across me.

“Looking for someone?” The voice was smooth and so deep it cut through my little activity all at once. My first thought slipped to the bartender, but the hidden danger in his voice spoke otherwise. I looked up, and for the first time since the night began, the air left my lungs.

He was tall, impossibly broad shouldered, with a tailored suit fitting him like it had been stitched directly onto his body. His jaw was cut sharp, his lips curved in a knowing smirk, but it was his deep blue eyes that caught me, dark and arresting, like secrets waiting to be stripped bare.

A mop of blonde hair sat pretty on his head, and it was the perfect contrast to the black ink that spread from behind his neck, and deeper into the collar of his shirt.

Hell, he was sin himself, and I didn't mind being dragged to hell all because of him.

“Yes,” I breathed, while I tried so hard to hide the blush staining my cheeks. “Yes, I am.”

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, like he was waiting, and I caught on to it.

“Damian?” I found my voice. “Are you…

“That’s me.” His lips curved wider, slow and sinful. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You’re late.” I swallowed, heat licking my skin as I nodded toward the seat across from me.

“Worth it?” he asked, sliding in anyway, with a smile that exposed dimples I had no idea were embedded in his cheeks.

I didn't answer, and while his arrogance should’ve annoyed me, it only made my pulse trip.

Drinks arrived after that. Whiskey for him, and a martini for me. The conversation flowed easier than it should have. He listened when I spoke, but his eyes never stopped studying me, like he was reading pages no one else had dared to open. I didn't miss how his eyes darted from my exposed cleavage to the thigh slit of my dress that left little to nothing to the imagination.

“So. Tell me, Noelle. Why are you here?” Somewhere between my second and third sip, he leaned back, gaze sharpening. “You don’t strike me as the type who needs blind dates.”

“I don't.” The truth slipped out before I could stop it, raw and bitter. “I just want revenge.”

“Oh really?” His brows lifted, interest flashing. “On who?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I swirled my glass, watching the pale liquid catch the light. “Someone who thought I was easy to fool. Someone who thought I’d always wait.”

“I see.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smirk. “And what would revenge look like, exactly?”

“It looks like me, not giving a damn anymore.”I met his gaze head on, the alcohol buzzing in my blood, anger and desire tangling until I couldn’t separate them. “And if I'm damn lucky, me screaming under a dangerously sexy man could count too.”

“Maybe I can help with that.” Something dark flickered across his eyes, his tongue running across his lower lip.

The way he said it, low, promising, and wicked, broke the last thread of restraint inside me.

Before I could overthink, before I could second guess myself , I leaned across the table and pressed my lips to his.

The kiss wasn’t soft, it was nothing like the ones I shared with Evan. It was fierce, hungry, tasting of whiskey and fire as it sent sparks down my spine. His hand found my jaw, holding me there, deepening it until I forgot my name. When we finally pulled apart, breathless, his thumb brushed across my swollen lip.

“Careful, Noelle,” he murmured, his voice like silk and danger wrapped in one. “One kiss with me, and you’ll never stop at just one.”

“Then don’t make me stop.

”I smiled, recklessly. “It just might be what I need tonight.”

Time seemed to slow to a halt as he took me in. For the next couple of seconds, every sound around us had been drained off, and the only motion my brain could register was Damian's eyes running over my skin.

I could see the desire and want in his eyes. Hell, I could almost taste it, and I would be a damn liar if I said my insides weren't on fire right now. Before I could compare how Evan had never made me feel like this, Damian took the reign.

It was his turn to kiss me back, and fuck was it hot. This time, his hands roamed my entire body, over my boobs, my neck, and down the curve of my ass. Call me crazy or whatever, but I could swear he pinched my taut nipples at one point in our make out session. He rolled them in between his fingers, and believe me when I said I felt it deep in my core.

I pressed my thighs together, desperate for whatever friction I could get. While that was frustrating, Damian came to the rescue immediately. In one swift motion, he wrapped his hand around my waist, and like I weighed nothing, he pulled me over his lap.

“Oh.” A sultry grin made its way to my lips at the hard on poking from underneath. Damian didn't bother hiding, and the list swirling in his eyes was doing a huge number on me. “I see someone's excited.”

“If you call this excitement.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper, as he trailed his mouth over my cleavage. “Then just wait till you see what I can do.”

I knew what he meant, his invitation was glaring. My mind whirled, and even though the same part of me whispered what the right thing to do was, I didn't exactly heed to it.

“Lead the way then.” The words had barely slid past my lips before Damian pressed his mouth to mine again.

Oh, this was definitely going to be a good night.