Page 12

Chapter 12

Damien

I didn’t sleep. I hadn’t needed to in years, not when the chaos inside me thrummed like a live wire.

Holly kissed me back. That simple truth was all that mattered, and it sent a thrill through my veins, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment she stepped back into my life.

She could fight it all she wanted—pretend to be over me, push me away—but I saw it in her eyes. The flicker of desire, the way her breath hitched when I got close. She was losing ground fast.

In the dim light of my room, I leaned against the wall, a smirk playing on my lips as I replayed that moment over and over. Her lips were soft but demanding, catching me off guard as she pressed against me like she belonged there. I had half expected her to shove me away or slap me for being so bold again, but instead? She gripped my shirt as if she was holding on for dear life.

She could tell herself it was a mistake—a lapse in judgment—but deep down, we both knew better. The heat between us wasn’t just a remnant of our past; it was an undeniable connection that pulled at both of us. And I would be damned if I let her forget it.

As the hours dragged on, shadows danced across the walls, and each minute that ticked by only fueled my resolve. Holly thought she could play safe with Logan Hartley—thought she could brush off what we had like it was nothing—but that only made this game more enticing for me.

The longer she pretended to resist, the harder I would push. She had always been strong-willed; no one else could match her fire. But under that defiance lay vulnerability—a weakness I would exploit until there was nothing left but us.

With each breath I took, the air thickened with anticipation and the taste of her lingered on my lips—a sweet reminder of what I planned to reclaim. Holly wasn’t free from me; she never would be.

I felt her soften against me, that brief surrender as I pinned her to the wall. It was electric, a jolt of power surging through my veins. The way her sharp little breath caught in her throat ignited something primal within me. I was already hard just thinking about it.

Memories flooded back, ones I had tried so hard to bury. Us tangled in sheets, late-night laughter echoing in the dark, the way she looked at me with those eyes—like I was everything she needed. But those days felt like a lifetime ago, eclipsed by the chaos that had consumed us both.

She still belonged to me. I knew it deep down, and every fiber of my being craved to make her admit it. She could play tough; she could put on that cool facade and act like she didn’t care about me anymore.

But I saw through it all.

I always had.

Now? I just needed to push her to the edge. To remind her of what we were—what we could be again if she let go of that damned pride..

With every second that ticked by, our history played out like a film reel behind my eyes—every heated argument turned into passion, every secret moment we shared etched into my mind like an unshakeable truth.

I wanted Holly back—not just as a fleeting shadow in my life but as my shadow once again. And if pushing her meant breaking through those walls she built around herself? So be it.

I arrived at the event planning meeting a good fifteen minutes early, relishing the quiet of the empty room. The silence wrapped around me like a comfortable blanket, just how I liked it. I could feel the anticipation building in my chest as I scanned the table, taking note of each chair.

Holly's chair caught my eye, and I smirked. This was too perfect. I moved it, dragging it across the floor until it sat right next to mine—close enough that our knees would touch. I leaned back in my chair, stretching my legs out beneath the table as if claiming my territory.

With a glance at the door, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed out a message.

Don’t be late, little lamb.

There was something satisfying about planting that little seed of unease in her mind before she even stepped through the door. I wanted her off balance from the start; every moment counted in this game we played.

The clock ticked slowly on the wall as I waited, listening to my own heartbeat echoing in the stillness. My mind wandered back to that kiss—the way her lips had melted against mine like they were made for each other. The memory ignited a familiar fire within me, a need to remind her just how easily she could slip back into what we once had.

She was still going to fight me on this—she always did—but deep down; I knew she craved it just as much as I did. I couldn't wait to see her reaction when she walked in and found me waiting there, ready to pull her right back into my world.

A few moments passed, and then the door creaked open. My heart raced with anticipation as Holly stepped inside, scanning the room before locking onto me. Her eyes widened slightly at first before narrowing with that trademark defiance I found so damn appealing.

I couldn’t help but grin. She’d been warned—now it was time for me to show her exactly how much she meant to me and how easy it would be for her to forget everything else outside these walls.

I watched as the door swung open wider, letting in a stream of students buzzing with chatter and energy. They filtered into the room, filling seats at the long table, laughter punctuating the air.

But Holly?

She didn’t even flinch. Instead of taking a seat at the far end, away from me like I half-expected, she settled right next to my chair.

That was her first mistake.

I leaned into her space, casually tilting my head just enough to catch her scent—something sweet and familiar that wrapped around me like a vice. My knee brushed against hers, and I noticed the way she tried to suppress the shudder that rippled through her body. A little gasp escaped her lips before she locked down on it, but I’d seen it. The telltale sign that I still affected her.

“Nice to see you again,” I said, my voice low and smooth as silk. I let the words hang in the air between us, laced with challenge.

Holly’s eyes darted to the other committee members settling into their seats, pretending not to notice our dynamic. They didn’t know what was simmering beneath our polite facades, but I could feel it—the tension thick enough to slice through with a knife.

“Focus on the task at hand,” she shot back quietly, trying to reclaim some semblance of authority. Her fingers danced nervously on the edge of her notebook, but she was fighting a losing battle.

“Why do that when we have such an entertaining little dance going?” I leaned closer, watching her pulse quicken as I invaded her personal space further.

She straightened in her chair, shifting slightly away from me as if that would help put distance between our chaotic history and this new facade we were both trying to maintain. But we both knew better; neither of us could truly escape what lingered in our past.

And for every slight movement she made away from me, I found myself leaning closer until my shoulder grazed hers—an electric touch that sent jolts of familiarity coursing through me. The thrill was intoxicating; it was exactly where I wanted us both to be: close enough for me to remind her just how easily she could fall back into my orbit if she wasn’t careful.

The meeting kicked off with the committee head droning on about logistics for the charity hockey game. They outlined tasks and timelines, but I barely registered the words. My focus zeroed in on Holly, who sat next to me, pretending to take notes while I was busy watching her.

“... and we have a sponsor dinner coming up next week,” the committee head announced, breaking through my thoughts. “Attendance is mandatory. It’s a great opportunity to connect with our sponsors and showcase our commitment to this event.”

Holly shifted in her seat, her brow furrowing as she scribbled down notes. I leaned closer, smirking at the way she concentrated so hard, oblivious to everything around her. I couldn’t resist.

Reaching over, I snatched her pen from the table and held it up like a trophy.

She shot me a glare, eyes narrowing as she tried to snatch it back.

I kept it just out of reach, my fingers brushing against hers as she made another attempt. That moment felt electric—an involuntary spark igniting between us.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmured low enough that only she could hear, leaning in close enough that my breath ghosted against her skin.

Her gaze flickered for just a second, uncertainty swirling in those warm hazel eyes of hers. But no words came; instead, she hesitated—a moment stretched between us that felt impossibly charged.

My smirk deepened as I relished her silence. The thrill of pushing boundaries sent a rush through me.

A guy across the table cleared his throat loudly, breaking the spell hanging in the air between us. “You two good?” he asked with an edge of concern mixed with curiosity.

Holly pulled back abruptly, flustered. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she fumbled for composure.

“Fine,” she snapped, her voice clipped but revealing nothing more than embarrassment.

The energy shifted slightly; I could sense her trying to regain control after my little disruption. But deep down? I knew this was only the beginning.

That was the second mistake.

Holly didn’t say no. She didn’t push me away. Instead, she let me draw her in, and that told me everything I needed to know.

I watched her fumble for composure after my little stunt with her pen. The way her fingers shook gave her away, even if she tried to mask it behind a veneer of irritation. A smirk tugged at my lips as I leaned back, savoring the rush of power coursing through me.

She was letting me win.

“Everything all right over there?” I asked, injecting a casual tone into my voice while the rest of the committee continued to drone on about sponsorship details. It felt too easy—like catching fish in a barrel.

Holly shot me a glare that could’ve cut glass, but it lacked the bite I remembered from before. The fire flickering in her eyes spoke volumes; she was trying to hold onto her anger, but the underlying spark of attraction was unmistakable.

“Just focus on your notes,” she retorted sharply, though I noticed the way her breath hitched slightly when I shifted closer again.

I leaned in just enough for her to catch my scent—the familiar cologne mixed with something darker—and felt satisfaction swell in my chest when she visibly stiffened. I reveled in that tension, enjoying every moment of watching her squirm beneath my gaze.

The meeting droned on, and each passing minute only tightened the knot of excitement twisting inside me. Each time Holly shifted in her seat or stole a glance at me from the corner of her eye, it felt like another victory tucked under my belt.

She glanced down at her notebook again, scribbling furiously as if that might help deflect what was happening between us. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t escape it—not this time.

“Come on, little lamb,” I whispered softly enough for only her to hear, “you can’t pretend forever.”

Her jaw clenched tightly as she shot another glare my way, but it didn’t have its usual bite. Instead, there was an almost vulnerable quality about it—a hint of desperation that made my heart race.

I loved this game we played—the back-and-forth where we both knew who held the upper hand yet refused to acknowledge it fully. And as long as she kept letting me win? I'd keep pushing until she admitted defeat and came willingly back into my arms where she belonged.

When the meeting wrapped up, Holly bolted out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. I expected nothing less. The moment I leaned into her space, she’d become a wild animal ready to flee.

I trailed behind her, moving at a deliberate pace. Not fast. Not aggressive. Just a quiet shadow that lingered in her wake.

She rounded a corner and ducked into a small supply closet, likely to grab those damn event banners the committee had mentioned earlier. I paused outside for just a second, letting her think she had escaped me.

Then I followed her in, closing the door behind me with a soft click that sealed us off from the world outside. The small space was cramped, cluttered with supplies and equipment—the scent of paint and cardboard enveloped us like an old memory.

“Damien?” Her voice wavered slightly as she turned to face me, surprise flashing in her eyes before it morphed into annoyance.

I leaned against the door casually, crossing my arms over my chest while watching her flustered expression. “You didn’t really think you could get away that easily, did you?”

“Get away?” She scoffed, though there was an edge of uncertainty in her tone. “I’m just grabbing?—”

“Banners? Yeah, I know.” I took a step closer, invading her space as I watched the way she held herself rigidly. “But it’s not about the banners anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed, but they held something else—something beneath the surface that tugged at me like a fishing line.

“I don’t have time for this,” she said through clenched teeth, but even I could hear the tremor lurking beneath her bravado.

“Too bad,” I replied smoothly. “Because now you’re stuck with me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but before any words could escape, I reached out and locked the door behind me. The click echoed in our small prison, amplifying the tension crackling between us.

“You’re locking us in?” Her incredulity mixed with apprehension sent a thrill coursing through my veins.

“Just until we talk,” I said evenly, not breaking eye contact as my smirk returned. There was no fear here—only an exhilarating rush of power that surged within me each time she challenged me.

Holly’s breath hitched slightly as she processed what was happening—my presence dominating every inch of space around us while the air thickened with unspoken words and emotions that threatened to spill over at any moment.

“You can’t just?—”

I cut her off, stepping forward until our bodies nearly brushed. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, little lamb”

She backed up against the shelving, her breath hitching as she realized there was nowhere to go. The moment felt electric, charged with an intensity that made my heart race. I planted my hands on either side of her, creating a barrier that held her in place.

“Say it,” I demanded, lowering my voice to a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

“What?” she replied, defiance still flickering in her eyes.

“That you still want me.”

Her head shook instinctively, but I noticed the way her breath stuttered, how the fire in her gaze dimmed just slightly. It was a crack in her armor, one I intended to exploit.

I tilted her chin up with a finger, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Liar.”

The moment stretched between us, heavy and thick. Her pulse quickened under my touch, and I felt the heat radiating off her skin. She opened her mouth as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, she swallowed hard, and for a split second, uncertainty clouded those fierce eyes of hers.

“Damien—” she started but faltered again as I leaned closer.

“Don’t act like you don’t remember how it felt when we were together.” My breath brushed against her lips. “You know you miss it.”

The silence was deafening; the tension wrapped around us like a vise grip. Her heart raced in sync with mine, and I could almost see the battle waging within her—a mixture of anger and desire swirling just beneath the surface.

“I won’t let you play games with me,” she finally managed to say, though even she could hear the wavering resolve in her voice.

“Not playing games,” I replied softly. “This is real.”

“You’re insane,” Holly shot back, her voice edged with both anger and disbelief.

I grinned, the corners of my mouth lifting into a smirk that I couldn’t suppress. “And you like it.”

She shifted slightly, trying to push past me, but I wasn’t about to let her escape.

In one swift motion, I grabbed her waist and spun her so that her back pressed against my chest. The surprise in her gasp made my pulse quicken, and I reveled in the way she fit against me—her body molding into mine like two pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting to connect.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as I leaned down, my lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me to stop.”

She hesitated, caught in that moment of indecision where desire clashed with reason. But instead of protesting, she remained silent.

Encouraged by the quiet acceptance hanging in the air between us, I pressed my lips to her neck—slowly, dragging them along her soft skin as I teased the very boundaries she fought so hard to maintain. My heart raced at the thrill of marking her; it was primal and intoxicating. Each kiss ignited a fire beneath the surface that sent shivers down her spine.

She tilted her head back slightly as if giving me permission without uttering a single word. That small gesture fueled my hunger further; every drag of my lips against her delicate skin felt like claiming what was mine, the edges of my teeth scraping against her in a rough caress.

I felt her body melt against me for half a second, warmth radiating from her skin like an electric current that coursed through my veins. It was intoxicating, a fleeting moment where the world outside faded, and it was just us—her heart racing, mine pounding in time with hers.

But then, just as quickly, she jerked away, shoving me hard enough that I stumbled back.

Not weak. Not hesitant.

Her face flushed with anger and something else I couldn’t quite pin down. Those furious eyes of hers locked onto mine, a storm brewing within them.

“This is a mistake,” she spat, each word sharp as a knife.

I leaned back against the shelves, calm and collected, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You keep saying that, but you never stop me.”

She glared at me like I’d just taken everything she held dear and tossed it into the flames. Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the closet.

But she didn’t slam the door behind her. Didn’t scream or yell for someone to come help her escape my grasp. There was no drama—only an undeniable tension that lingered in the air long after she’d left.

And me? I stood there watching her go, the thrill of victory humming through my veins. She had just proven it: she was already mine again.

I felt it in every heartbeat—the way she fought against me but still craved that closeness; how her anger was a thin veil over something deeper and more dangerous. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

As the door clicked shut behind her, I knew this was only the beginning of what I had planned for us both. The game was on, and I had every intention of winning.