"Is he a rescue as well?" Katrina asked as they made their way to the little table.
"Nope. I've had him since he was old enough to be taken from the breeder. He usually goes wherever I go. He's been all over the US and has his own room in the house in Manhattan." Damon pulled out a chair for her, motioning for to sit. "He's as close to family as I have," he shrugged, "aside from the housekeeper Lily."
Chapter 8
There it was - the look of pity in her eyes. He hated that look. She used to get that same look each time he was thrown into a new foster home. He regretted his previous statement. She had a way of making him say things without filter - not something he generally did. Usually, every word, every move, every action was calculated.
Damon turned and took a seat across from her, busying himself with opening the stainless steel container.
"Mom said if you don't drop by and say hi when we get back to Bangor, you'll be in big trouble bucko. Her exact words."
Damon grinned and released a sigh of relief at the change in topic. Lifting the cover he uncovered a BBQ rotisserie chicken with a number of pasta salads and potato wedges. One of her favourite meals - or used to be anyhow.
"How are your parents anyhow?" He couldn't believe he hadn't even asked of them.
"Divorced." She replied grabbing a potato wedge and popping it into her mouth. "This smells delicious, by the way."
"I'll forward the compliment to Lily." He opened a bottle of wine and began to pour some, while she helped herself to the chicken. "What happened there?" Not that he was shocked; he could see a divorce in their future even when they were kids. All her parents ever did was fight.
"Dad decided to marry his secretary and mom has sworn off of men, apparently you are all swine that can't be trusted." She said matter-of-factly, an amused gleam in her eyes.
Damon lifted a brow at her. "That a fact? And she wants me to drop in and say hi?"
Katrina grinned. "Go figure huh? She always liked ya."
"And your dad is with the secretary?"
Katrina scooped up a spoonful of macaroni salad and grinned. "Pretty cliché, huh?"
"Indeed."
"Have you ever had a thing for your secretary?"
Damon paused, his glass of wine partway to his mouth. His mind raced backward in time two years when he'd first hired Becky.
"Oh-my-God! You dog, you did!" Grabbing a potato wedge, Katrina tossed it at him, hitting him square in the chest. "That's so nasty!"
'''I didn't say that!" he defended, blocking another potato wedge that came sailing across the table at him.
"You don't have to. I can see it written all over your face. You're the worst liar ever, Damon Garratt!" Despite her mock outrage, he could see the humour in her eyes.
Damon set his glass down and spread his arms out, palms out in mock surrender. "Okay, okay it happened once. At the office."
Her eyes widened and a wide smile spread across her lips. "Not on your desk!"
He could feel his face grow hot. "Not here. But in New York, in the actual office... Yes. Once." He felt the need to seriously stress once.
She cocked her head to the side and eyed him, clucking her tongue off the roof of her mouth. "So once, huh?"
He nodded.
"But you never brought her here?"
His smile faded and he reached across the table to take her hands in his, partly because he wanted to touch her and partly because he wanted to ensure he didn't get another potato wedge chucked at him. "I never bring anyone here Katrina."
Her smile faded as her gaze caught his. "Never."
He shook his head. "I've had the ranch five years and you're the first I've brought here." He gave her hand a tug and she stood and made her way around the table to perch herself on him, straddling his lap, her skirt riding all the way up her thighs.
Damon pulled her tight and brushed his lips along the side of her neck. The sweet smell of apples washed over him. She smelt so good. She felt so good. How in the name of God had he been able to leave her? She sighed softly and let her head drop to the side, giving him better access to the tender flesh.
"Why haven't you brought anyone here?"
"Just haven't." Damon nipped at the side of her neck and she gasped, her fingers fisting his shirt at the shoulders. He ran his tongue along the side and up to her earlobe, nipping lightly.
"No. I... Why me?"
"I think you know," he murmured. She wiggled on his lap bringing his dick to life. It swelled as his hand slipped up her outer thigh and caressed her bare ass. Bare? The little vixen wasn't wearing any panties. His dick went from semi-hard to rock solid in two seconds flat at the discovery.
"This is crazy Damon," she gasped, as he began to kiss his way across her jaw to her lips.
"Crazy is the fact that you didn't put on panties Miss Alexander," he chided, and then claimed her mouth before she had a chance to respond.
Her lips parted for him in a soft moan that rocked him to the core with need. His tongue thrust into her mouth, which tasted of sweet wine to duel with hers. The ache in his dick increased and he had to fight to keep his desire reigned in. He couldn't remember wanting her - or anyone for that matter - so badly. How he was going to be able to hold back from taking her until they had "the" discussion he had no clue.
She pulled back from him, pressing her forehead to his, her breathing ragged. "I ummm." She closed her eyes and buried her face against his neck. Her body trembled over his.
"Hmmm. Kat."
She pulled back and caught his eyes, the desire flaring in her eyes. "Would you believe me if I said I forgot to pack them?"
Damon threw back his head as a roar of laughter rocked through him. "Not for a second."
A loud crash sounded behind Katrina, keeping him from responding. They both turned to see Ralph had snuck onto the table and was standing on the chicken, his beak covered in macaroni salad and in the middle of eating a potato wedge. Sensing he was being watched Ralph lifted his eyes and looked from Damon to Katrina and back again.
"Wasn't me," Ralph squawked, despite being caught red-handed. "Fuckers!"
Katrina giggled and her face lit up with amusement. "I think dinner is ruined."
"We can go to the kitchen and get something else, or I can take you out to eat." Damon glanced down at his watch. 7pm. "The night is still young."
Katrina brushed her lips across his. "The last thing I want to do is leave. Not when we're comfortable. And..." She kissed her way to his neck.