Mr. Grey-Book I

39

Emilia

I opened the door to find Damien sitting on the bed, speaking on the phone. His voice was clipped and professional. As I closed the door behind me, he paused and turned toward me with a hesitant expression. "Emilia?"

"Hey," I said carefully.

"I'll have to call you back," he murmured into the phone before ending the call. I made my way over to him, kneeling in front of him. "Are you okay?" I asked, noticing his red, slightly watery eyes. My heart clenched at the sight.

Silence hung between us for a moment.

"Damien—"

"They found my father," he said abruptly. My mouth widened into a grin, but it quickly faded when I saw his somber expression. "That's amazing news, isn't it? Is he okay? Did something happen?"

"They found him in an abandoned warehouse in Seattle," Damien explained, his voice tinged with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "He's currently in the hospital, but the doctors say he should be fine."

I let out a sigh of relief. Gently, I rested my hands under his chin, urging his face upwards. He jerked away at first, but I cupped his face, bringing it back to me. "Everything is going to be alright." I leaned up and rested my forehead against his, knowing deep down that my words weren't entirely true.

He engulfed me, burying his face in my chest as if he wanted us to become one as if he couldn't bear to be alone anymore. I ran my fingers through his hair, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "I'm right here," I whispered soothingly.

Suddenly, his arms tightened around me, and he pulled me onto the bed, flipping me under him. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying himself in my chest once more.

We stayed like that for a few moments before he leaned up and trailed his lips against my neck. My heart clenched as he whispered, "Be mine."

"What?" I asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

He lifted his head, his eyes stormy and reddish. I swallowed hard.

"I know it's insane, but before you, my life was meaningless," he said, smiling softly. "Suddenly, you came and became the only reason I want to wake up in the morning."

"Damien—"

"All I can say is that you make me... you make me into someone I couldn't even imagine I could be. You make me happy—"

I cut him off. "You're engaged, Damien." The words hurt to say, but they were true.

"Not anymore," he said simply.

I smiled, feeling a million butterflies bloom in my stomach. At a loss for words, I cupped his face, pulling it to my own.

The moment our lips touched, he tugged me closer. I pressed my head against his sculpted chest, relishing the firm, hard muscle. Nestling closer, I listened for his heartbeat. It was there, that thunderous, rapid pounding that made me giggle with amusement. It was at that moment I realized the unknown feeling I had been trying so hard to hide and avoid was love. I was in love with Damien.

Two months later (5 months pregnant)

"I'm bored," I whined, a mischievous smirk forming on my face. "Let's play a game," I suggested as I hopped onto Damien's lap with a box of pizza in hand.

"What kind of game?" he asked curiously.

"A fighting game," I said, taking a bite of pizza. "Let's see who wins."

He chuckled. "You do know you're pregnant and I'm blind, right? Besides, we both know who would win," he added with a smirk, running his hands over my bump.

"Hey," I playfully swatted his chest. "You can't just conclude without even trying."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he said, concern evident in his voice.

"I won't, I promise," I assured him, setting aside the pizza box.

He sighed reluctantly before giving in. "What does the winner get?"

"If I win, I get a free back massage for a whole week. If you win, you can decide," I grinned.

He smirked. "If I win, I get a million kisses anytime and any day I want."

My mouth fell open at his cockiness. "No way... I'm not kissing you a million times. That's not even possible."

"Fine... no back massages then."

"Deal," I shot back instantly. I really needed those back massages; my back had been aching for what felt like forever. "As long as I still get my free massages."

"Deal," he uttered. Before I could even think, I found myself on my back with Damien on top of me. He had a mischievous smile on his face as he began tickling me with kisses. I laughed uncontrollably, pleading with him to stop, but he wouldn't. I even tried to flip him off, but he was definitely stronger than me.

He lifted my dress and began trailing tickling kisses on my stomach. I screamed with laughter and tried to push him away, but he wasn't having it. "Ah!" After a while, he let go, breathless. "Hey! That was not fair. You totally cheated," I accused.

"That was winning," he shot back. "And I want my kisses now."

"Not happening," I said, trying to roll off the bed, but he tugged me by the waist and pulled me back. "A deal is a deal, and I happen to take mine very seriously, Miss Clark."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're not getting any," I teased.

"Emilia—" he drawled.

"Fine, you're such a baby," I rolled my eyes at him. "Just one kiss, Mr. Grey, and that's it," I warned. He smirked mischievously. "We'll see." He leaned closer and brushed his lips against mine.

The kiss was not innocent or teasing, but hot, fiery, passionate, and demanding. Damien and I were closer than we had ever been, and so far, it had been an amazing experience witnessing this unbothered side of him. It almost felt like—

"I'm leaving for Seattle tomorrow," he murmured against my lips, making me pull away instantly.

"What?"

"I'm going to check up on my father and as well check out this eye clinic everyone has been bothering me," he explained, worry evident in his voice. "But I also need to be certain you'll be safe while I'm gone, so I've ordered more security and guards to surround the safe house."

I scoffed silently. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure," he whispered.

"And you're telling me now?" I knew I was being insensitive, considering it concerned his father who had just recovered, but I wished he could be more open with me about other aspects of his life sometimes.

"I'm sorry. I've just been waiting for the right moment to tell you," he said. I sighed softly. "It's fine. How is he?"

"He's recovering." He pulled me into his arms, and I buried my face in his chest. "I'll be back before you realize it," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of my head.

I hope so, I thought, trying to push away the nagging worry in the pit of my stomach.