Chapter 4- Bribe?

-Damian-

I wipe my hand down my chest, straightening my white button-down shirt, and exhale a long breath. It's a desperate attempt to collect myself. I'm walking in the direction where I saw her from the VIP section.

I glance around, and when I catch a glimpse of her, my feet betray me. I stop in my tracks. I watch her dance and laugh with the girl in a low bun. My mouth parts and dries from the sight alone. I shake my head to snap myself out of this haze. I should head back up the stairs. I must head back to Ezra. The others will be here soon. I take a slow, measured step back toward the stairs.

Before I can make a beeline toward my friend, however, my legs carry me toward her.

"Mind if I borrow your friend?" My voice comes out hoarse as I talk to the brunette who interrupted our earlier moment. The two of them are gaping at me. The beauty's breath hitches, and my attention is back on her.

I lick my lips to moisten them. When they don't respond, I speak to her directly, "I'm Damian...would you like to dance with me?" I cringe inwardly. It's an innocent question, and yet I feel like a fool as I ask it. It sounds ancient. It sounds like I was born in another century.

"Yeah... yes... Damian..." the beauty nods quickly, making her hair move, but her eyes are stuck on mine.

I smile and offer her my hand, which she takes. The moment our skin touches, I feel electrocuted. It takes everything in me not to show any reaction to her touch.

"What's your name?" My voice is low and intimate as I put my hand on her lower back, drawing her closer to me.

I clench my jaw to stop myself from groaning at the way her body feels against mine. We sway to the rhythm and dance together.

"Huh? Oh... Isabella..." Her voice is soft and melodic. "My friends call me Isa, though." She adds quickly.

"Isa? Is that your preference?" My lips tug into a small smirk as she shakes her head in response.

"N-no... either is fine." She clarifies quickly, and I can't help but smile. That's when it hit me. I was utterly fucked.

I smirk at her, trying to cover up the fact that my thoughts are in shambles.

"What made you come to 'Outer Heaven'?"

I sway to the rhythm with her, my gaze locked on hers as I add.

"Do you come here often?" My brows furrow. Why do I even care? I should be getting the hell away from her. Yet, here I am. With Isabella in my arms and her gaze locked on mine.

"We're celebrating..." She clarifies one of my questions.

C'mon, Isabella... Don't leave me hanging.

I hum.

"Celebrating what?" I poke the bear once more.

"My birthday. It's... my birthday."

"Oh..." I smile, and without even thinking about it, I spin her out, away from me, before pulling her back toward me. Isabella's scent hits me first- fresh and floral. It's a light smell. The one where you have to be close enough to smell it. And, boy, am I close enough.

Her palm lands against my chest, and a soft oomph escapes her. Her green eyes widen in surprise at my sudden movement.

"Happy birthday then..." Our faces are millimeters apart, and my breath fans her soft, plump lips as I murmur.

"Thanks," she breathes, and I lick my own lips instinctively before I catch myself and pull back away from her.

"Let's get you a celebratory drink." With a hand on the small of her back, I guide her gently towards the bar.

She opens her mouth to protest, so I speak up.

"It's my treat. You can't refuse a drink, right?" I say with a mischievous grin. She gulps and shakes her head.

I grin and lead her toward the bar.

"Two whiskeys. Neat." I placed an order smoothly with the waiter on the main floor. He nods and grabs two tumblers and reaches for the cheap-ass whiskey Barclay had put as the main drink. He always was a cheapskate.

"No." I slide a card to him over the bar top. The poor waiter's eyes widen, and he nods once. Before scurrying off.

I look back toward Isabella, whose brows are knit together faintly in confusion. I raise a brow at her in question.

"What was that?" She glances toward where the waiter scurried off and then down at my card.

"What do you think it is?" I lean on the bar, keeping a careful distance between us.

"Did you just... bribe him?" She asks with disdain in her voice. My eyes squint, and a low chuckle breaks free.

"Don't worry, Isabella." I reach up and with my finger brush off the crease between her brows, softening her features once again. A zap shoots through my arm and down my spine as I touch her skin. Isabella's breath gets caught in her throat. I pull my hand away as if burned and shake my head.

"I don't bribe people. I'm not that type of man." I pick up the card and hold it between my index and middle fingers for her to see.

"It's a membership card for the club. See?" I let her read the inscription. I watch her eyes glide over the letters. I feel my mouth curl up in a soft smile.

Finally, she nods. Her hair sways with the motion, and I lower the card and tuck it in the wallet.

"Okay, good." She smiles.

The waiter finally returns with the good stuff and puts our tumblers on the counter.

"Just out of morbid curiosity. What do we have against bribery?" Her eyes go wide, like they might pop right out.

"What do you mean, what do we have against bribery, Damian? It's sick, it's dishonest, it's lying and cheating at the same time." Her cheeks burn red.

The blush that has nothing to do with the drink in her hand and everything to do with her being passionate about where her loyalties lie.

"You're right. I agree." I nod once. Her mouth pulls up in a smile when she realizes that we're on the same side. God, this woman.

I run a hand through my hair. The Rolex is heavy on my wrist. My eyes go to the VIP section balcony. I should head back... I open my mouth to part ways with her, say goodbye, and never think of her ever again.

"Are you here to celebrate something or just for fun?" Isabella looks up at me.

"I'm here to meet some friends. They're running late." She looks toward the dance floor, toward where her friends are, I presume.

"So you, just... hang out in a club?" She asks when her eyes meet mine again. I nod.

"In suits?" Her eyebrows shoot up, but her mouth quivers as she fights off a smile.

"I was not aware there was a certain dress code for clubs." I muse with a smirk, and she finally grins and rolls her eyes at my smartass reply.

"It's more of a social cue than a dress code. But still..." Isabella's grin widens.

"You have to be aware of the fact that you look a bit out of place." I raise a brow at that, and she chuckles.

Is she... teasing me? I lick my lips.

"Perhaps I look out of place because you're overanalyzing me? Ever thought of that?" I taunt her.

"Maybe I should take you up to VIP where I usually sit to see who'll look out of place there..." I take a step closer to her and glance down at her little black dress.

"Hm?" I raise my hand and brush her hair behind her ear. It feels soft, like the most expensive silk.

I should pull back, but I don't.

Instead, I cup her cheek, and her breath hitches. I'm so attuned to it that even the bass thumping around us does not muffle it.

I lean my face down closer to hers.

My gaze locked on her lips. My heart beats wildly against my ribs so much that I'm absolutely positive she can hear it.

"Bella..." I murmur and lean in. She tips her head up. Millimeters apart. My lips brush softly against hers. Testing.

After a moment of hesitation, she connects her lips with mine. Her hands curl in the lapels of my suit jacket.

My other hand lands around her back, and I bring her closer to me. The heat of her body seeps into mine through the fabric of my button-down.

Despite the noise of the club and the people around us, my brain shuts off, and all I can feel is Bella in my arms.

I graze the seam of her lips with my tongue, and she parts them instinctively. I deepen the kiss, my tongue brushing against hers softly.

I can still taste the whiskey on her breath, and mixed with the taste of her, it makes for my new favorite drink.

My hand slides from her cheek and curls in the strands of her brown, silky hair, and I tighten my grip on it. The pressure on her scalp makes her moan into my mouth, and I smirk into the kiss before deepening it. Letting my tongue brush up against hers. And with a gentle hold on her hair, I am able to keep her where I want her while I kiss her.

Isabella pulls back.

"Damian..." She puts her hand on my chest, stopping me with a soft murmur of my name.

I pull back to meet her gaze.

"Is everything okay?" My hand is still in her hair, my grip on it still tight as my thumb brushes her scalp as we look at each other.

"No. I mean- yes... I'm just- I-..." she stumbles over her words.

"I'm not in the right headspace for this..." She pulls back, and my hands fall to my side.

The lack of contact with her makes my whole body burn in anger.

Not with her. Not because she rejected me. Only because I shouldn't want this. It shouldn't feel good to be connected to her.

"Damian... I'm sorry... I'm just... I have a lot on my plate right now..."

I shake my head and am about to speak up when a group of women comes up to us, and a blonde speaks up

"Isa... it's late. We have to go back." The blonde looks between us.

Her gaze lingers on Isabella's red cheeks, then she shifts it toward my carefully blank face.