Ignited & Unhinged (Billionaire Secret, Book One)(Billionaire Romance, New Adult Romance, College Romance) (5 page)

I wake with a start.

The string of lights are still on, casting their soft glow.

Damon is asleep beside me, his arm draped across my stomach. He looks content. Peaceful. Like a male model sleeping.

I look past him at the alarm clock on the nightstand between the bed and the window. 3:17AM.

I’d been here for nearly five hours.

My face splits into an involuntary schoolgirl grin as I remember last night.

Rounds two and three
.

I move his arm carefully and stand.

I stretch automatically, breathing life into my naked body.

I’m exhausted, but I want to wake up in my own bed.

My eyes survey the room. There are two doors on the same wall as the entry door.

I try the first, a closet. The second middle door opens to a bathroom.

Geez! He has an
en suite
in his dorm room?

SE House was already considered to be one of the more plush Houses at The College, and The College had the most luxurious dorms of any of the Ivies, but this huge room with two walls full of beautiful leaded windows, a queen-sized bed, and now an en suite?

The mirror reflects my naked torso from my belly button up.

Do I look different?

No.

Do I feel different?

Yes.

I feel more…alive.

I close my eyes and smile at all the experiences still to come.

Ten minutes later I am dressed and back in my room at Winsor Hall.

I had just removed my heels, when I hear my cell buzz.

Lunch? -Damon

How did he know my number?

I smile like a girl with a secret. And then quickly examine my feelings.

Am I pleased he wants to see me again?

Yes.

But I don’t want to feel
too
pleased. He was rich, gorgeous and probably a major player.

Plus, I really,
really
don’t want to be one of those girls who falls in love with a guy just after having sex with him.

I had no intention of limiting myself in any way—I was only two weeks into my freshman year of college, just getting started.

Still…he was a mystery I wanted to solve, at least partially.

And the thought of rounds four and five make my body sing.

Sure. Time? -Elle

He responds almost instantly.

Mickey’s, 1PM

I set my phone down and begin to undress.

My body craves a shower, but I’m so exhausted. It would take forever to dry my hair. Energy I didn’t have.

I would just have to sleep with wet hair and straighten it in the morning.

Fifteen minutes later I’m in bed. Drifting to sleep, thinking of musty libraries and magic skylights.

Mickey’s is an upscale diner known for its burgers and breakfast items.

It is one of those mysterious places with a secret menu and a five star chef on the premises.

No one knew why a college diner would have a world-renowned staff or why it worked so well, but it was supposed to be amazing.

I was glad to try something new regardless of whatever happened with Damon.

What a strange thought…no matter how the date went, I’d get a good meal?

Maybe I was a little nervous.

I arrive just on time.

The floor is made of black and white checker tiles.

The tables and booths are red.

The walls are lined with black and white photographs of old sports teams from The College, some of them dating back to the late 19th Century.

I scan the tables until I see him staring at me from a back booth.

He makes no move to wave me over, he just stares at me intensely.

Wow
.

He’s even better looking in daylight, which is saying a lot.

He stands up to kiss me on the cheek.

I slide in opposite him.

He’s wearing a green short sleeved polo shirt and dark wash jeans. Even the casual, preppy look suited him.

I feel like a Plain Jane in my dark skinny jeans, tall black boots, and magenta top.

“So this is how you look in the morning.” He shoots me a wry smile.

And then continues, “I wasn’t sure you would show up since you slipped out so stealthily last night.”

“Was I stealthy? I clearly didn’t succeed in not waking you since you texted me ten minutes after I’d left.”

“Your absence was noticed,” is all he says, before looking down to examine the menu.

“This place has great food. You can’t go wrong. It’s one of my favorites,” he changes the subject quickly.

“Well that’s good, because I’m starving,” I say under my breath.

The menu is made of a leather folio with expensive linen paper. Something you would find at a fancy French restaurant, not a college diner.

My stomach growls. Quickly, I find what I’m looking for so my eyes can get back to his face.

“I think I’ll go with an omelet. I could have breakfast all day long,” I say closing the menu and setting it on the table.

He mirrors my gesture, “Same here. That’s one of the reasons I like this place so much, you can get an omelet until they close at 3AM.”

He lowers his face, but keeps his eyes on me. “An excellent way to fortify your body for…” his thumb grazes his lower lip suggestively, “…late night activities.”

His eyes bore into mine.

I feel his leg brush against my knee under the table.

Slow and deliberate.

The contact gives me butterflies.

“Good to know. I’ll add it to my list of late night food places.” I smile back, determined to be cool even though I was starting to feel hot.

“My suitemates and I are making a list.” That sounded less cool.

“Didn’t they include that kind of information in your freshmen packet? Places to eat, places that deliver, places that are open late…?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I guess they did.” I nod. “But we like to compile our own data,” I answer in a mock business tone.

The waiter arrives and takes our order. Our glasses are filled with cucumber water before he leaves.

The water is delicious, I’d never tried throwing cucumber slices in before. Very refreshing.

“So how are you feeling this morning?” He’s watching me carefully. Eyes scrunched together like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Fiiine.” I let the word drag on like I’m not sure why he would need to ask. “How are
you
feeling today?”

I clearly have no idea where this is going.

“Well you did sneak out.”

“I didn’t sneak out. I thought I was being considerate by not waking you. Plus, I wanted to sleep in my own room.”

He looks away from me dismissively. “Yeah, OK.”

He doesn’t believe me.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I wonder out loud, confused.

“So you didn’t run away because you felt weird about what happened?”

What happened
?

“Weird?” What the hell was he talking about? “I’m feeling kind of lost here, Damon. You’re going to have to help me out.”

“Well, you know…” he glances around like he’s checking to make sure no one can hear and then lowers his voice to a whisper, “I took your virginity.”

Uhh.

Was it normal for guys to be this concerned about taking someone’s virginity?

When I don’t say anything, he explains, “I thought you would want to cuddle and sleep over.”

Is that what I was supposed to do? What I was supposed to want?

I don’t dwell on the shoulds of the situation because something he’s just said irks me.

It needs correcting.

“You didn’t take my virginity. I set out last night to sleep with
you
.”

I speak slowly to make sure he gets it, “And I did. And it was great. And I left feeling great. I just wanted to sleep in my own room.”

The whole thing comes out like I’m trying to get through to someone who is mentally challenged.

The line that had formed between his eyebrows disappears. His entire face relaxes.

“You aren’t shitting me are you? That was all completely true.” He shakes his head like he is trying to clear it.

I don’t know what to say. I was obviously telling the truth. Why would I lie about something so insignificant?

I smack my lips together and nod slowly.

“You are a strange one.” He runs his fingers through his hair.

“Why because I tell the truth? Because I was supposed to want to cuddle?”

The idea of snuggling into his bare chest with his strong arms around me
did
do something to my body…

But the truth was last night I was on a mission.

I succeeded so I went home.

It was pretty straightforward. It had to be. I would not let myself get all twisted.

I don’t know how many of my thoughts he can read as they travel across my face, but the fascinated look he’s giving me makes me curious about his experience, “What kind of women are you used to?”

He seems thrown by the question, like I’d just blown his mind. “Apparently, the lying needy kind,” he laughs.

Our food arrives just then and we eat now more relaxed in each other’s company.

We talk about college, and classes, and his favorite thing about SE House, and my observations of college so far.

When the waiter clears our plates. His mood turns more serious.

Like now he’s the one on a mission.

“I realize that you are new to this…sex, I mean,” he begins, “but there’s something about you, you are clearly comfortable in your own skin and you aren’t afraid of your desires.”

He stops.

Something occurs to him. “Why were you still a virgin?”

I open my mouth to give some totally cool answer I’ve prepared if asked.

But the truth is I don’t have any kind of explanation prepared for this particular question.

So I just opt for the unfiltered truth.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I shrug.

Why should I hold anything back? He’d already seen me naked.

The words come out in one aggressive heap, “Do you remember how hard it was to get in here? I barely slept in high school. I didn’t have time for guys and that was just fine by me since most of my girlfriends turned into complete ass hats the second they got a boyfriend.”

It always bothered me how my friends changed before my eyes.

Suddenly, it was all about their boyfriends.

They wouldn’t make plans to hang out unless they were sure their boyfriends didn’t have plans.

And then would cancel if the guys became available. Their grades suffered.

They were emotional wrecks when anything was going wrong in their relationships.

It was a mess and I resented having to deal with any of it.

Already not enough hours in the day…

“I’m sensing some anger there.” He leans away fractionally.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a fan of the way some women lose themselves when there is a guy involved.” I sound pissed.

All of the feelings from high school coming back.

He holds up his hands, “Noted.”

He looks…impressed? Baffled? Intrigued?

I wave a hand and then cross my arms, leaning back against the soft booth, “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Yes,” he pauses, folding his hands in front of him on the table, “I know you are new to this, but I wondered how open you would be to…
broadening
your horizons,” he chooses his words carefully.

“What does
that
mean?” I shake my head.

“Would you be willing to suspend any…
preconceived notions
about what you believe sex should be, and how pleasure should be experienced?”

He’s speaking in a very formal way. Like he’s propositioning me for something.

I’m nervous now.

“This isn’t some kind of
Fifty Shades
thing, is it?” I half-joke, the smile not quite reaching my eyes.

I lower my voice conspiratorially, “You’re not trying to tell me that you want to lock me up in a sex dungeon…”

He laughs. Hard.

The couple sitting nearest to us turns in our direction.

“New or not, your imagination takes you to some dark places. No, I’m not a sadist, although I don’t look down on those who are.”

OK
.

“Know many sadists, do you?” I’m half surprised he even gets the reference.

“Probably more than your average Joe, but it isn’t my scene.” He waves the topic off like it doesn’t concern us.

He leans forward and takes my hands.

“I’d like to take you somewhere tonight, if you’re up to it.” He’s softer now, less formal.

“It is a place of secrecy and pleasure. You won’t have to do anything, nothing will be asked of you and we can leave whenever you want.”

Softer, but more mysterious.

“Why do I feel like I’m Alice and you’re the Mad Hatter about to lead me down a rabbit hole?”

His lips twitch up, “I’m not mad and you can choose whether you want to come with me and when you want to leave Wonderland.”

We sit in silence, while his thumbs stroke the back of my hands.

He’s dissecting my expression again.

“What are you thinking?” he finally asks.

I don’t know what to think. What to say.

He squeezes my hands when I don’t answer right away.

“I’m not sure.” Is all I’ve got.

“I
think
you will like it. It’s about pleasure.” He looks hopeful.

“Yours and mine,” he prods.

Well I was all about experiencing pleasure these days.

I don’t, however, want to be turned into some playboy’s plaything—and he isn’t giving me many details.

Or any
.

“Can I keep my phone with me at all times in case you turn out to be a serial killer who keeps women in some secluded house in the woods?”

Damon’s mouth falls open a little and then he chuckles.

“Uh, OK sure. We have an app I can install on your phone, it will disable the camera and voice recording capabilities of your cell when you are…in the vicinity, but 911 will still work.”

“We?” I question.

He just grins.

“And you can tell your suitemates that you will be out with me, in case you don’t come back, the police will know where to begin the investigation,” he jokes.