Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [64]
She nodded and hoped she didn’t look too worried. As she’d acknowledged to herself when he’d been networking with club personnel, Damon was a natural people person—and she just wasn’t sure she could see herself being that skilled at initiating relationships, or dealing with ones that were difficult, as Damon had just done.
“You know what you need to cheer you up?” he asked.
Okay, so clearly her fears were still written all over her face. “What?”
“Some new panties.”
She cast a flirtatious smile, having grown much more comfortable with her current social life than her professional one. “That’s right—you owe me a pair, don’t you? Or two,” she added, thinking back to their encounter at Fetish.
“Lucky for you, the Fashion Show Mall is close enough to walk.”
“Lucky for me, I happen to be sleeping with a guy who actually knows things like this,” she replied on a laugh.
“Well, I hope this won’t shock you too much, little miss Brenna,” he said with a wink, “but it won’t be my first time in a lingerie store.”
She let out a mock gasp, splaying her hand across her chest.
“And not only that—I’m not the kind of guy who stands at the door with his arms crossed, looking at his feet. I’ll be helping you pick these panties out.”
She laughed softly. “I can’t wait to see your choices. And just so you know, I’m not into crotchless. I require both practicality and sexiness in my undies.”
In reply, he snapped his fingers and muttered, “Damn.”
Two hours later, they’d crossed Las Vegas Boulevard and made the short trek to the stylish, upscale mall. In addition to replacing the red thong they’d ruined last night, Damon had picked out a black thong, a leopard-print thong with a black lace inlay on front, and an embroidered demi-bra and panty set of lavender silk and lace.
They’d held hands, kissed as they’d walked and shopped, and kissed some more as they’d stopped to grab a couple of sandwiches in the food court for lunch. Then they made their way back to the Venetian, Damon toting the little pink shopping bag with a natural confidence that made Brenna see how truly masculine he was.
“Not all guys would be happy about carrying a pink bag,” she pointed out, impressed.
He simply replied, “I’m not all guys.”
You can say that again. He was easily the sexiest, most confident, most seductive man she’d ever met. And he’d been giving her kisses over top of panty displays and around turkey clubs and—oh God—it was getting really easy to start thinking of him like…a boyfriend.
Which was emotional suicide—she knew that still.
He’d told her this was a temporary thing.
And she was lying to him anyway, so it was good it was only a temporary thing.
So quit thinking of him like a boyfriend, like someone you’re getting attached to.
If only it were that easy.
The fact was—she’d never been that kind of woman, the kind like Kelly, who could get physical with someone without starting to care. And she’d deluded herself there for a few days, thinking that maybe new Brenna was that kind of woman. But now that new Brenna was the real her…well, she was getting attached to Damon. And she was going to be hurt and lonely and empty when this ended, no doubt about it.
The only answer for now was the same she’d relied upon all week.
Push it aside. Don’t think. Just feel.
He kissed her at the door to her room—since he had more phone calls to make and some e-mails to send, and she’d decided she could use a nap—and when his tongue twined around hers and made her body tingle from head to toe, just like everything she did with him, she definitely felt. She felt it all. The pleasure. The emotion. The need to be with him.
The sad truth was that she didn’t even really like parting ways with him for the afternoon. She’d grown so used to being with him almost around the clock these past few days, and that’s what had made her into the real new Brenna. Damon’s presence, his influence—the things he made her think, feel.
“Dress up tonight,” he said, still holding her hand.
“Dress