𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

4

The generic and obnoxiously loud ringtone of my phone forces me out of my sleep, my eyes snapping open. It's buried somewhere in this fluffy mountain of covers. I search for it, my hands fumbling clumsily in my half-asleep state. Finally, I manage to find it and quickly answer with a groggy "Hello?" as I squint against the bright morning sunlight streaming in through the windows.

"Oh my god, Catherine! You're alive!" It's Star's voice on the other end, frantic.

"Yes, I'm alive, I'm sorry I..." I start, but she cuts me off.

"We had to leave the party and we couldn't find you! No text, no nothing! We thought you got like, murdered or drugged or something!"

"I'm sorry, Star...I'm okay."

"Well then where the hell are you?" she demands.

"I...umm..." I hesitate, not sure if I should really tell her where I'm staying. "I'm actually at Damien's place."

There's a shocked pause on the other end. "No way! Get out! Catherine!"

I feel my face growing hot. "It's not like that!"

"Uh huh, sure," Star says teasingly. "Way to go, girl! Bagging a sugar daddy on night one!"

"Star, I'm serious!" I protest. "This could be my chance to get close to him and maybe... maybe I can get my daughter sooner."

"I got you, girl. You do what you gotta do. Just don't forget to negotiate them terms and conditions!" She cackles loudly.

I roll my eyes and smile. "I should probably get going. I'll catch up with you later?"

"You sure you wanna leave that sugar life so soon? Alright, alright, we're just happy you're safe, girl. Go get your money, honey!"

After hanging up, I slip out of bed and tiptoe out of the bedroom, quiet as a mouse. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps as I make my way downstairs. I wander around for a bit, getting lost a few times. Every room looks the same - and completely different in the morning. Finally, I spot Damien sprawled out on one of the fancy leather couches in what must be the living room.

He's shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung pajama pants. His muscular chest and chiseled abs are on full display, tan skin stretching over each defined ridge. Intricate tattoos cover his arms and torso, dark ink swirling in mesmerizing patterns. A trail of dark hair starts at his sculpted pecs and leads down to disappear into the waistband of his pants.

I just stare for a moment, at every inch of his half-naked body. The way his V-line muscles cut sharply into his hips has my mouth going dry.

Resist temptation.

This is a means to an end, nothing more. I take a deep breath and force myself to stop ogling him like a piece of meat. I clear my throat loudly, announcing my presence. "Um, good morning," I call out, my voice sounding awfully timid.

Damien's eyes lazily flick open and a slow grin spreads across his face when he spots me. "Well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty," he rumbles, his deep voice still rough with sleep. "Why don't you come have a seat?"

As I sit down next to him, suddenly the sound of frantic footsteps echoes down the hallway. My head whips around just in time to see a nearly naked woman come rushing into view. She's got a wild look in her eyes, her hair a disheveled mess like she just rolled out of bed. She's clutching a bundle of clothes to her chest, trying to cover up her exposed body as she stumbles along in sky-high heels. Without even a glance in our direction, she makes a beeline for the front door and flings it open, slamming it shut behind her with a resounding bang.