Shattered Innocence Page 3

  Lo and I are on the dance floor. The lights are flashing and the bass is so loud my whole body feels like it’s vibrating. I feel a presence behind me but I ignore it, hoping that they will just go away, as usual. Instead, I feel whoever it is step closer to me. “Not interested, buddy. I’ve gotten my fill of free drinks for the night and I have no intention of going home with you.”

  “I don’t want to take you home.”

  Even in my current state I know that damn voice. I turn around and see the bane of my existence, Damon. What the hell? Of all the damn clubs in this town, why this one? I turn away from him without saying a word.

  Instead of leaving though, he moves closer to me so that our bodies are now touching. “Not exactly what I would have imagined you going out in.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I turn around and push him away from me.

  He smiles at me. “Just that I have seen you more dressed up.”

  “Listen, buddy, just because you know what I do, doesn’t mean you know anything about me.” I storm away from him and toward the bathroom. I just need a minute to think, it’s like he clouds my damn judgment.

  I’m standing in front of the mirror fixing my hair that has turned into a hot mess already, when Lo walks in. “Who the hell was that?”

  “That was the dickhead that is now my boss.”

  “What? Jessie, he is fucking gorgeous!”

  “Yeah, but he is still an asshole.”

  “Whatever. Listen, that hot guy from my chem class is here. You okay if I go to his place?”

  “Yeah, babe. Go have fun.” I give her a hug. Most girls would, at this point, get bitchy and resentful about Lo leaving. I’m not like that though. She wasn’t my mother or my babysitter, and I had no problem grabbing a cab home.

  I walk out of the club and let out a groan as I see the sea of people trying to hail a cab. Can nothing go right tonight? I hear a horn honk but ignore it. You never ever turn around when a car honks, it’s usually just some sleaze ball with a stupid ass pickup line. I mean, what the hell do guys think when they honk at us that we will turn around and want to suck their dick for pushing a button on their steering wheel? It honks again and I’m irritated enough to curse this asshole out so I turn around. I squint to see who is about to get the verbal ass kicking I’m ready to dish out. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Damon pulls up in front of me. “Let me give you a lift.”

  “No. I’d rather walk.” I start to make my way towards the cab line.

  “Come on! You that scared that you can’t control yourself around me?”

  I spin back toward him. “Excuse me? I can completely control myself around you. You are not as damn slick as you think.”

  “Prove it.”

  “What?” God, I hate this man.

  “You say you aren’t attracted to me. You say you hate me. Prove it. Give me two hours.”

  I walk up to his car. “Two hours for what?”

  “For me to show you how much that tough bitch act doesn’t turn me off and for you to realize how much you want me.”

  I open the door, sit down in the seat, and then slam it shut. “Two hours. I will prove to you that I don’t give two shits about you or your overinflated ego. After that you need to stop trying to mind fuck me every time I see you, and I don’t have to show up for your bullshit inspections anymore.”

  He seems to think it over. “What do I get if I win?”

  “You won’t.”

  “Well, it really isn’t a fair bet if there isn’t a deal for both sides.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, showing my obvious protest. “Fine. What do you want?”

  “Well, that’s a loaded question.”

  I arch my eyebrow at him to let him know I am not amused at all.

  “I thought it was obvious what I wanted, Miss Evans.” He pauses as if he is waiting for me to guess but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. “You.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “If I win I get you.”

  Is he a fucking caveman? Me take you. You mine. “In what context? For how long?”

  “In any and every way I want. For two months.”

  Two months? This is fucking crazy. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

  “You’re scared.”

  My head snaps toward him. “I’m not scared of anything.”

  “Prove it.” I was really starting to fucking hate it when he said that.

  “Fine. Two hours.” As he pulled into traffic my stomach dropped. In two hours I would either be free, or in fucking hell.

  I don’t speak a word to him the entire car ride. We pull up in front of this diner that is about twenty minutes out of town. I have never been here, much less heard of it. I watch as Damon gets out of the car, half expecting him to open my door. Does he? Nope. Where are all the damn gentlemen? Not out with the hookers! I really fucking hate my subconscious sometimes she can be such a bitch, even if it’s true.

  When I look up, Damon is standing on the steps of the diner staring at me. Well, here goes nothing. We walk in and it is set up like an old 50’s diner and even though I would never admit this to him, I absolutely love it. The waitress even has a poodle skirt on and I watch it sway back and forth as she walks us to our table, it’s almost mesmerizing.

  She brings us to a booth and walks away after handing us our menus. I catch Damon staring at her ass as she is walking away and choose to kick him under the table.

  “Ow, shit. What was that for?”

  “You know you could have a little fucking respect and not drool over her.”

  He laughs at me. “Sweetheart, when you go to your favorite restaurant even though you know what you want to eat you still look at the menu.”

  What a pig-headed response. I look over the menu deciding to enjoy myself on Damon’s dime. The waitress comes back to take our order. “I’ll have the chocolate chip pancakes and a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.”

  Damon scrunches his eyebrows at me, then turns to the waitress and orders an omelet.

  Once she walks away I look at him. “What was that look for?”

  He shakes his head. “The tough girl just ordered something a five year old would ask for. You keep me guessing, Jessie.”

  “Why were you so determined to get me here?”

  His hands run through his hair, and he seems to be thinking over his response. “Since day one, we have had chemistry, but you wouldn’t drop your bitch act for more than a minute to give it a chance.”

  “Oh, so it’s all me?” I needed to put Michael the Archangel in his damn place. “You have had this cocky-ass, king-of-the-fucking-castle attitude since I met you. Don’t act like you’re so innocent because you know you’re not.”

  This is why I wasn’t worried about losing the bet. Damon and I were like ketchup and ice cream, so different that even the thought of us together was fucking weird.

  “I never said I was, Jessie. Tonight is a blank slate though.” He waves his hand in front of his face and then extends it across the table toward me. “Hi, I’m Damon Shaw. What’s your name?”

  I shake my head and laugh, but I choose to play along with him. “Jessie Evans. Nice to meet you.”

  “So Jessie, tell me what you do for a living.” I narrow my eyes at him ready to curse him out. “Uh, uh, uh, clean slate, remember?”

  Fine, he wants to play around. “I’m in public relations.”

  “Really? So what do you do?”

  “Basically, a lot of community service, helping people in need.” I can’t get through this little act without laughing. “What about you?”

  “I am a supervisor. I work with adults who have the mindsets of children.” Touché.

  The waitress brings our food over and Damon thanks her. “Can we just cut the bullshit, Damon?”

  “What bullshit?”

  “This whole we just met and are trying to sugar coat our lives. Where are you from?”


  “I’m from here, actually. My family’s house is about five minutes away.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. How about you?”

  “I used to live about two hours away. I rent a house with my friend Lauren now, so I have lived here for the past three years while I was in school.” It was honestly awesome living with Lo. We were like one person.

  “You don’t go home for summers or anything? Usually that’s what the college kids do.”

  “Well, I am not your average college girl.”

  “No, you aren’t.” I watch his mouth move as he talks and see his tongue dart out to catch a stray piece of food on his lip.

  “Why were you such a dick to me that first night?”

  He coughs as if he had choked on that last bite. “My demeanor may have been completely different if you had not made it your mission to act like a PMS driven bitch. Also, just so you know, the foul language you use is not attractive, and it makes you seem trashy.”

  My mouth drops open. “Did you just fucking call me trash?”

  Damon’s fist bangs on the table. “Would you mind keeping your voice down? And no I didn’t call you trash. You are far from trash, however, the way you speak and carry yourself definitely gives others that impression.”

  I eat the remainder of my plate in silence when all I want to do is curse him out and leave. Who is he to say I shouldn’t curse? Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck. There. The waitress stops by to drop off our check and Damon leaves some cash then stands up and walks toward the door. I follow him counting the minutes until this shit was over.

  When we get back into the car I look at the clock. I have forty-six minutes left, then I can walk away. Is Damon Shaw hot? Definitely. But I am not going to let him win this one. We drive for another ten minutes before pulling into a driveway.

  “Is this your house?”

  “Yeah.” He gets out of the car. What the hell? I did not agree to this.

  I step out but do not move away from the car. “I am not going in your house.”

  He turns toward me. “You said you would give me two hours.” Damon looks down at his watch. “I still have thirty four minutes.”

  I groan and begrudgingly follow him. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

  No thanks. I walk around Damon’s living room, realizing it is not at all what I would have pictured it to be. The walls are painted a dark blue and he has a black leather furniture set. The walls are plastered with pictures of what I am only assuming are of his family. I smile at the pictures of him with kids on the beach. The Damon in these pictures is different. He is not as jaded or cocky, he seems almost likeable.

  “Enjoying the view?” I turn back around to see that he changed into a simple black t-shirt and some basketball shorts. The way the shirt hugs his arms, is delicious and…No! Stop it, Jessie. Keep it together.

  I smile at him and sit down on the couch. He takes a seat next to me and he is so close my body goes on high alert. “You aren’t allowed to cheat, you know.”

  “Me? Cheat? Never.” He puts on this goody two shoes look, and I laugh. “Whether you want to believe me or not, Jessie, I really just want to get to know you. Let me in.”

  “Let you in?” Seriously? “I have known you for what? Less than a week? You have to be shitting me. The only thing I am going to let you do is lose this damn bet.” I stand up needing to distance myself from him.

  “I don’t give a shit about this stupid-ass bet.” He storms over to me backs me against the wall and forces his mouth on mine, parting my lips with his tongue.

  I don’t want this, but my stupid-ass body has completely different plans. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. I can feel him pressing against me through the thin shorts he has on.

  Damon pulls away from me before resting his forehead against mine. He starts to laugh and I’m immediately confused.

  “What the hell is so funny?”

  His hands slowly move down my body cupping my ass and squeezing it. “Two hours are up. And you are now mine.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter Six

  I can’t believe this shit. He fucking tricked me, and took advantage of me. When Damon lowers his mouth back down to mine, I turn my head to the side. He takes advantage and attacks my neck slowly making his way up to my ear. “Remember the deal. You’re mine.”

  His hands lift me up by my ass until I am eye level with him. “I don’t want to be yours.”

  He braces me against the wall and one of his hands brushes the stray hair away from my face. “Yes, you do.”

  He kisses me again and I give in. it is so easy to get lost in him, I don’t know why, but I can’t resist. I will not make this that easy for him though. I pull away looking him in the eyes. “We are not having sex tonight. Just because you won some bet does not mean I’m your damn slave.”

  “Oh, now you have morals and standards for who you sleep with?”

  I don’t know why, but his comment hurts. I push him off of me making sure to catch myself as he releases me. He opens his mouth to speak but I raise my hand and smack the shit out of him. “How dare you. Don’t preach to me about fresh starts, when you just pulled that shit.”

  I move toward the door but he grabs my arm. “Jessie, wait. That was a real dick move. I’m sorry. It just came out. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

  I shake him off of me, and head for the door again.

  “You have to stay.”

  “Excuse me? I don’t have to do shit.”

  “Technically, I did win the bet.” He moves closer to me. “So yes, you have to stay.”

  “I hope you know how much I fucking hate you right now.”

  I know he couldn’t stop me if I wanted to leave, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t completely want to leave. I walk over to his couch and sit down, trying to decipher the mystery that is Damon Shaw. He’s an asshole, but he obviously loves his family and their kids. He insults me constantly but tells me I’m too good to be cursing. He is basically a mind fuck in an amazing make-you-wanna-drool body.

  Damon sits down next to me and puts his arm on the back of the couch behind me. “So you wanna watch a movie and make out?”

  I look over at him and realize that he is joking, and against my own will, I laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

  “No, really though. What do you want to do?”

  “Go home.”

  He laughs. “Are you ever not on defensive mode?”

  “No.” He cocks his head to the side, studying me as if I’m some damn science experiment. “Listen, if you think you’re gonna sit here with me and that I’ll have some big revelation and open up to you…I won’t. I don’t need anyone else in my life, however I made that deal with you so for the next two months I guess I’m stuck with you. What you need to understand though, is that in no part of that deal did it say I needed to be happy about it.”

  He stands up and walks into the kitchen. “You want anything to drink?”

  I had sobered up after eating and if I was going to spend the night here I would definitely need a drink. I get up and walk over to where he is. “Whatcha got?” I lean onto his countertop resting on my forearms. His eyes stare right down my shirt. I pick up the dishtowel sitting next to me and throw it at him. “Eyes are up here, buddy.”

  “Hey, you can’t blame me here. I got some vanilla rum, tequila, and Jack.” I did not want to spend tomorrow making friends with the white porcelain bowl of horrors so tequila and Jack were out.

  “I’ll have the rum. You got any soda?”

  Damon bends down to look into the fridge and I can’t help but stare at his ass. He turns around with a two-liter bottle of root beer in his hand. He catches me ogling him and dramatically puts a hand on his hip. “Excuse me, eyes up here.”

  I laugh at his comical impression of me. Damon makes us drinks and then we go over to sit on the couch. “So, who are all the people in the pictures?”

  He points t
o the pictures of the beach that I was looking at. “That is my sister, her husband, and my nieces and nephew. That was last summer when I went to visit them. They live in Myrtle Beach and I take trips there pretty often. Have you ever been?”

  “No. I’ve never actually been to the beach. I always wanted to I just never got there.” Something was happening I could feel my hostility toward Damon melting away, and that scared me. I didn’t want to like him, I didn’t want to want to be around him.

  Damon flips on the TV. “Any preferences?”

  I shake my head no. I am distracted with trying to figure out if he has an ulterior motive. I mean less than twenty minutes ago he had me pressed against his wall and I was pretty sure we would end up in his bedroom.

  Since it was around Halloween time, there was an endless line up of scary movies on. Just great, now I’ll be up all damn night. I wasn’t willing to admit to him that they freaked me out big time. When he asked if I was okay with watching something called The Conjuring I didn’t want to say no. This should be interesting.

  By the end of the damn movie I’m basically on top of Damon’s lap, cowering with my face buried in his shirt. So much for playing it cool. When the credits start to roll, I look over at him. “That’s it? Wait. No. They can’t do that. What the hell? They need to tell us what happens.”

  He laughs and begins rubbing slow circles on my back. “Maybe there will be a second one.”

  I shake my head. I hate damn scary movies. They never have an actual damn ending.

  Damon stands up. “You ready? I’ll take you home.”

  Wait. What?

  I guess he sees my confused expression. “I have no intention to let you take advantage of me tonight, Miss Evans.”

  He heads for the front door and I follow completely dumbstruck. Just like I said, Damon Shaw is a complete mind fuck.

  Chapter Seven

  I wake up to Lo blasting the fucking Backstreet Boys at eight o’clock in the damn morning. She must be cleaning. According to her, they get her amped up and it’s the only time she actually wants to clean. I don’t fight it though because she never asks me to help her.