Mr. Darkness by Hilary Storm

Author:Hilary Storm [Storm, Hilary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-07-24T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Don’t talk to anyone unless I introduce you to them personally. They’ll all try to test you since you’re with me, but don’t play into their games.” He’s still whispering and pressing his body against mine, pinning me against the door we came through and turning me on more than I’d ever admit to him.

“Oh… okay.” I stutter my response as I try to imagine what he’s talking about, not sure exactly what I’ve gotten myself into this time, but since it’s with Damon… it’s bound to be a fucking mess.

He slides his hand into mine and then turns on his heels to walk us both to the middle of the room where only the couple from the room earlier stand. Everyone else is standing against the walls as if they’re just here to watch. I notice a few of them wearing masks, but all of them have on dark suits, similar to what Damon is wearing. Perfectly fit to their bodies as if they’ve all bought them from the same fashion designer and had a tailor alter them all to perfection.

The room feels rich, only making me more aware how under-dressed I am amongst all the well-dressed men and the single most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in person lately. Of course, that really doesn’t say much since I don’t get out much.

“Damon, thank you again for this.” I watch the woman wink at me as she kisses Damon on the cheek in her quick greeting as we approach. The man with her shakes Damon’s hand, not looking in my direction at all. I listen as the three of them converse quietly as if no one else is in the room. Damon doesn’t introduce me, so I don’t move a muscle, allowing his thumb to rub a small circle against my palm as if he’s doing it to stay connected and calm me.

This is so far from anything I’d ever willingly attend. The stuffiness is suffocating and I’m not sure his group of friends and the events he’ll require of me are something I can agree to… even if I’m dressed appropriately for the next one.

A young man dressed in only black pants approaches us with a tray of champagne glasses. I watch as the three of them reach for one and notice I’m ignored yet again by the young guy, so I move forward and grab a glass on my own. The young man’s face freezes and his eyes barely brush over my hand before he looks down at the tray and turns quickly to retreat away from us.

I notice Damon’s quick glance in my direction and feel the short tug on my hand pulling me closer to his side. I can tell I’ve overstepped some sort of boundary again, but if he doesn’t tell me what he expects, how am I supposed to know what he wants. It seems to me like he needs to learn how to communicate.

I allow myself to scope the room once again, realizing all eyes are on me.

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