Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Frankie

I look around The Edwardian, an upscale restaurant where the waitstaff, including the women, dress in black or white tuxedos. They all look like they belong on the runway—not one fucking hair is out of place. I get a sea of perfect smiles aimed my way, and suddenly, I'm uncomfortable.

In my work capacity, I could stroll in here and command everyone to shut the hell up and do as I say, but as a guest, I feel way out of my league.

Luckily, Damien doesn't feel the same. He's standing tall, comfortable with his place in the world, and the staff treat him as if he's royalty.

"Relax," he whispers in my ear. His warm breath sends a tantalizing shiver racing across my skin. The way his lips brush my ear is almost too much.

I straighten, trying to mask the electric jolt caused by his touch. Turning to him, I grin. "Who says I'm not relaxed?"

"I do," he whispers back, a teasing lilt in his voice. "You're tense as hell, and I'm trying to figure out why."

"This," I reply but stop short as we reach our table. The view is spectacular. I can see the whole damn city below on one side and the sparkling water of the ocean on the other. In all its glitz, glamour, and grime, this is my city. My home. And tonight, it's beautiful.

"This?" His smile is teasing, but there's pure curiosity in his eyes.

"It's just a little intimidating at first," I admit with a shrug. "But these are just people with more money than most of us. Not special. Not better, just different."

"I like the way you look at things. It's wise and refreshing."

Our gazes lock together in an intense stare-down that lasts until the waiter returns to take our drink orders. "That's me, wise and refreshing," I say, a playful challenge in my tone.

The waiter arrives, clearing his throat to get our attention. We give him our food and drink orders all at once, both of us seemingly eager to get on with the getting-to-know-you portion of the date.

"So, Francesca, tell me about your job. How did you become a police officer?"

"Damien, please. Call me Frankie."

He cracks a grin. "I'm sorry. I know you've told me before. I'll do my best. Please continue, Frankie ."

I smile, feeling a flutter of excitement. "Thank you. Francesca sounds so harsh." I take a sip of water from the crystal glass. "So, my dad, Franklin DeMarco, was also a cop, well, a detective. I wanted to be just like him for as long as I can remember." It's mostly the truth, but the entire truth isn't exactly first-date material. Or second date.

Or third .

He leans forward, and a slow smile lights up his eyes. "Have you ever caught a serial killer before?"

I stare back for a moment, weighing how I want to answer the question. I lean in and Damien does the same, unconsciously mimicking my body language. "You shouldn't believe everything you see or read on the internet."

His smile grows. "What shouldn't I believe?"

I sit back when our waiter places my cocktail in front of me. "As a general rule, you shouldn't believe anything, but that's just my opinion."

His brows arch up in amused curiosity. "Not a fan of the press?"

I shake my head slightly. "Can't say I am. But I do respect the journalists who report the facts without resorting to hype and clickbait. The media companies are businesses, after all, so they need to captivate their audience with every new twist and turn. Higher ratings equal higher profits."

"But isn't that how you receive tips that help in cracking the case? News media and the internet as you say?"

"Hardly," I snort dismissively. "But when people are scared, they do really stupid things that complicate my work. And it puts them at greater risk." I give my head a shake and tell him an old police story about foolish leads, running in circles, and an additional casualty. "It's a catch-22 situation. I want the public to be vigilant, but I also want them safe."

He nods slowly, his gaze never leaving my face. "You're not just tough, Frankie. You've got a hard shell with a marshmallow interior."

I jab a finger in his direction. "Zip it, wise guy, or I'll spread the word that you're not actually the brilliant mastermind you claim to be."

His eyes go wide. "You wouldn't."

"I might. Don't test me." I take a sip of my cocktail, laughing when he holds up his hands in a defensive gesture. "How about you, genius? How does one get into the tech genius field?"

He gives me a deep laugh. It's a little smooth, like really good booze.

"I created an app, and it did well, so I created another one. It also did well, and they kept doing well, so I kept going until I had a building with my name on the front."

That much I know. "But you don't just create games and calendars and stuff like that, do you?"

Surprise flashes in his eyes, and his smile gets bigger. "No, I don't. You're right. My company has evolved way beyond apps. We're now delving into cutting-edge fields like AI and neurofeedback technology. In fact, I've partnered with a brilliant neuroengineer to push the boundaries of what's possible in those areas."

"Wow. That's impressive," I say. "So, you really are a big deal?"

He shrugs. "In some circles. Same as you."

My laugh is louder this time, drawing eyes from the nearby diners. "I'm not a big deal in any circles. Sorry to tell you."

Damien shakes his head, leans in, swirls the amber liquid in his glass, and hypnotizes me with his smile.

"That's where your powers of deductive reasoning fail you, Frankie. People are completely intrigued by you. It's not just your beauty, which is the kind of beauty that men fight over. It's also your strength. Everything about you screams, don't fuck with me. But your femininity and grace are unmatched."

If he only knew…

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come, and I close it immediately.

His eyes darken, as if he can read my mind. "You crave me, Frankie. Every inch of your body is aching for my touch. You want to surrender to the desire that's consuming you."

His words surprise me. He's so bold, yet they are like a caress, igniting a fire within me. Instantly, my fuck session with myself this afternoon comes back to my mind, and I envision myself in my fantasy with him.

I want to melt into his embrace, to let him have me completely. His confidence is intoxicating, and he's absolutely right. I want him with an intensity that threatens to unravel me. Yet, I try to remain calm and choke out, "Is that so?"

But he's not just any man. He's a billionaire genius, and the complications that come with his wealth and power could throw my life into chaos. As if chasing a serial killer wasn't enough to deal with already.

I want to give in to the promise in his eyes even though I know I shouldn't, even though I know my life is too busy right now to lose myself in a fling with a handsome, charming man.

"You're overthinking this, Frankie. You want me so what else is there to think about?" He finishes his drink, his every move confident and graceful. "It's simple, really."

"Simple?" I laugh, shaking my head. "Something tells me nothing about you is simple, Damien."

His lips curve into a confident smirk. "You're right about that, Detective. I'm not like other men who are all talk and no action. I have the skill and finesse to satisfy your every need, to awaken desires you never even knew existed."

I smile at his bold declaration. "You sound quite sure of yourself. What makes you think no other man has ever achieved that?"

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Because if he had, you wouldn't be here with me right now."

A shiver runs down my spine at his words. "You take confidence to a whole new level."

Damien takes my hand in his, his touch electric. His eyes hold me captive, and I feel a storm of desire swirling inside. "Even now, your mind is filled with thoughts of us tangled together, my cock buried deep inside you. You're aching for it, but you so badly want to be a good girl, don't you?"

"I am not good, and I'm sure as hell not a girl," I say, my voice breathless.

Heat darkens his gaze. "I bet that if I were to slip my hand between your thighs right now, I'd find you dripping wet for me."

My breath catches in my throat, and my pussy clenches with need. He's absolutely correct, and it's taking every ounce of my self-control to keep my expression blank. When I'm certain my voice won't betray me, I uncross my legs and lean forward. "I'll take that bet."

Damien's nostrils flare as his hand reaches under the table and grips my knee, slowly gliding up my thigh. His touch is both torturous and electrifying. With each inch he advances, he studies my face intently, gauging my reaction. "The heat emanating from your center is like a magnetic fire, pulling me in."

Oh, fuck me. The slightly rough slide of his hand against my thighs is almost too much to bear. I want to bite down on my lip, grip his wrist and put his hands exactly where my body is craving his touch. But I don't do that. I watch, aware that my heart is kicking against my chest like a bucking horse. I want this. I want him .

Badly.

"Should you give in to your desires?" he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "Should you demand that I take you home right now?" His hand continues up my thigh, and my breath hitches as he nears my aching core.

He's so close, and at that moment, I know I'm going to give in. I'm going to do this with him. Just one night. I'd be a fool to resist.

"When you're ready," he growls, his thumb grazing my thigh—right there, "just say the word." Damien pulls back with a wicked grin, rising to his feet and extending his hand to me. "Dance with me."

Dance. He works me up to a fever pitch, and now he wants to dance. "There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance," I say, taking his hand.

"I know," he smirks, pulling me close. "I straddle that line every single day."

"Duly noted." I allow him to lead me to the dance floor, where a few other couples are holding each other closely, smiling and talking softly.

Damien turns and pulls me flush against him, our bodies molding together perfectly. His muscles are evident even through his expensive suit. I can't help but let my hands roam, imagining how he'd feel beneath me with no barriers between us.

His dirty talk from earlier replays in my mind, making my mouth dry and my pussy ache with need.

I can't deny it any longer. I want him, badly. Maybe even need him. Now that I know he's got the body and the filthy mouth to back up his confidence, I know I've never had anything compared to what he can do to me.

"You're an excellent dancer," I say, trying to keep my voice even.

He smiles. "Thanks. It's like playing golf, a necessary evil in my life. Until this moment, I didn't give a damn about dancing."

I smile at his unintended compliment. "I guess I never really thought about it."

"Most don't until they find the right partner." He grinds against me, letting me feel just how hard he is. And fuck, he's big. I'll definitely be feeling it tomorrow.

"Well, that's certainly one way to tempt me, Mr. Wolfe."

His lips curl into a wolfish grin, no pun intended, and he whispers in my ear. "Is it working, Frankie? Are you ready to give in to temptation?"

Fuck yes. As the music changes, my mind's made up. Tonight, I'm going to have him. We'll fuck each other senseless, getting lost in pleasure until we're both completely satisfied.

Just one night of white hot passion, of carnal bliss with the hottest man I've ever known and then I'll get back to my life and my work.

But right now, all I want to do is fuck this man until I can't move.

And I plan to enjoy every filthy, naughty, dirty second of it.