Call You Mine (Servite Academy)

Chapter Five

DAMON

W hat the fuck am I doing here, with her?

That’s the motherfucking question of the year. If I’ve learned anything in my time knowing her, it’s that Wynter Servite is fucking dangerous, and she might just be the death of me if I’m not careful.

The moment I saw her walking down the stairs last night freshly showered and wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts, the need to claim her burned through me in a way I never imagined it could. Pure, carnal heat flooded my veins, seared my flesh, and numbed my entire body as my eyes traveled over her beautiful lean legs, aching to see what was hiding beneath the shirt.

It was as if I’d been possessed and was no longer in control of my actions, stupidly pulling the shirt off of her like some lunatic. The fire lit by her nearly naked body ran through me like my blood was gasoline. It was a feral feeling I hadn’t ever experienced. Combine it with the terrified look in her eyes when I cleaned the wounds scattered along her skin, and it was slowly killing me.

I wanted to kill the motherfucker who dared to put his hands on her.

I’ve always known Wynter’s been hiding something from me. Her bullshit excuse of leaving across the country to get away from her old life never once fooled me, but I didn’t question it. I had no right to. We were barely friends, two people who drunkenly fucked each other one night and for some fucked up reason couldn’t keep their distance. I had no right to pry, and she owed me nothing, yet the moment I saw her in danger, hurt and scared shitless, something in me snapped.

Suddenly, I no longer wanted to steer clear of the sensual temptress. I wanted to make her mine. Again.

Last night as she sat there before me vulnerable for the first time since I’ve known her, I couldn’t stand the thought of not touching her silky, smooth skin, running my rough fingertips over every cut, every bruise until I healed her. The dormant dragon living deep within me was ready to pounce on anyone who threatened to hurt her.

I’d never felt so possessive, which is exactly why I knew I had to do whatever it took to fight the urge to make her mine.

Because the moment my tongue tasted her once again, the moment I touched her arousal, I almost lost every ounce of self-control. I wanted to lose myself in her, but most of all, I wanted her to lose herself with me.

A server passes by me, heading over to the cocktail area we’ve walked over to after taking group photos with the bride and groom. I’m pretty sure I was scowling in every damn one, not able to focus on anything but Wynter.

I reach out and take a glass from his tray, my gaze still zeroed in toward the fountain where Wynter stands in a heated conversation with her mother. I’m about to head over to them, noticing the distraught look on Wynter's face, when I feel someone come up behind me.

“Dragon,” Scarlett says, placing her small hand on my shoulder. My death grip on the glass of bourbon in my hand tightens, but I keep my gaze focused on Wynter and the woman who looks more like her older sister than her mother. Their silvery-blond hair is the same length, eyes both icy and blue, but where Wynter is tall and slim, the perfectly toned model-like physique, her mother has clearly gotten work done. No one looks like that, no matter how many hours a day they spend at the gym.

I take longer than planned to acknowledge Scar, not able to drag my gaze away from Wyn and how fucking incredible she looks in the skintight black dress she’s wearing, along with that same diamond choker she wore the night I fucked her, perfectly wrapped around her neck hiding the bruises caused by the asshole’s fingers.

She refused to tell me anything about what happened to her, but I swear to God when I find him, whoever the fuck he is, I’m going to fucking kill him.

“Fuck,” I groan, downing the bourbon in one swift gulp, drowning the rage I feel from not knowing what it is the fucker did to her.

Was it an ambush? Was she kidnapped and hurt? Was he a lover who took their role play too far, or a scorned ex-who couldn’t accept he’d lost her?

Was she forced?

Guilt crashes into me in violent waves at the thought of someone forcing themselves on her. And there I was last night fucking touching her in a way I had no business touching her, without even asking her if I could as I cleaned her open wounds.

So many unanswered questions run through my mind. I wanted to shake it out of her, fuck her so damn hard she screamed what happened off the top of her lungs, but she refused to confide in me, and something told me I needed to stand back until she was ready.

Forcing her to open up would only push her away. I know because it's exactly what happened the last time I saw her.

Beside me, I hear Scar trying to hold in a laugh.

Slamming my glass down on the metal tray of another poor, unsuspecting server, I turn and glare at my now ex-best friend, telling her to back the fuck off with a murderous glare.

“Whatever you’re thinking of saying, don't,” I sneer, though all that causes is for her to fall into a fit of full-blown laughter. I don’t have time for this shit.

“I wasn’t,” she says as I turn to walk away, reaching out for me. She hooks her thin fingers around my biceps and I stop. “Oh, come on, Drake,” she mutters, but I don’t let her finish.

Grabbing her arm, I drag her away from the table we’re standing by as more guests arrive. The reception will start soon and if I don’t get a hold of my shit now, I’m going to cause a fucking scene.

“Scarlett,” I growl in a hushed tone only she could hear. “You forget how long I’ve known you. I know the way your mind works.”

She rolls her eyes, pulling out of my grasp, and flicking her sleek back hair over her shoulder, showing off the new ink she’s gotten tattooed on her collarbone—the name Caeli written in beautiful script with delicate ink.

“I’m sorry, okay. But come on Drake, the shit the two of you just pulled. Did you really think no one was going to react?”

I grab another drink from the same server who flinches in fear the moment I reach out for him. “Keep them coming,” I snarl, and the poor fucker squeals, nodding nervously as he rushes back to the bar at the end of the makeshift dance floor. I turn back to Scar, who’s grinning at me like she knows something I don’t.

“I don’t give a shit what you or anyone here thinks,” I say, turning back to her, and once again throwing back the bourbon in one gulp. I’m going to need a goddamn bottle.

Why the fuck did I agree to this again?

Right, because a damsel in distress came knocking on my door and I just couldn’t fucking help myself.

“I’m sorry Drake, I didn’t mean...”

I scoff, turning away from her, my gaze once again seeking Wynter out amongst the crowd. She’s moved from where she was standing with her mother. “Don’t patronize me by apologizing just to make yourself feel better.”

“That’s not...”

I interrupt her once more. “Look Scar, just go back to your friends and family. I don’t need nor want your unsolicited opinion or thoughts on why you think I came here with her. I did, and that’s that. Whatever is or isn’t going on between us is nobody’s fucking business but ours.”

Her mouth drops open in shock, her beautiful blue eyes glittering with so many questions as she furrows her brows in irritation. “Okay, well first, it’s wild you know exactly what I was about to say, and second, for someone who doesn't care what people think you sure are touchy.”

“Just fuck off okay, I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Then stop fucking interrupting me,” she shouts, and suddenly I’m the one who wants to laugh.

Scar’s always been feisty, and deep inside I’m glad despite everything she’s been through, she hasn’t changed a goddamn bit. She brings her hands up to rest on her hips, her long nails the same gold color as the shiny satin fabric of her bridesmaid dress. The slight bump on her stomach is barely noticeable along the smooth fabric, and if it weren’t because she’s always been so incredibly fit, you wouldn’t be able to tell she’s almost five months pregnant. “Just please tell me this isn’t some kind of revenge plot against Ace.”

Anger flares inside of me at her accusation. “Are you fucking serious? You really think I’m still hung up on the two of you being together?” Way to fucking go Scar, looks like you fit in with these people more than you think.

“I just had to ask, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say you still had feelings for me, but I know it probably wasn’t easy to see us together, married now, and with a baby.”

“Don’t apologize for all of this, Scarlett,” I mutter, reaching out and bringing her in closer, placing my hands on either side of her arms. “Not for your happiness, not for the family you never wanted, but always deserved. You deserve the right to be happy and to take that in any way you can.”

I place a soft kiss on the top of her head and pull away, not wanting to make this seem like anything more than two old friends sharing a moment that’s been long overdue.

After everything that’s happened between us, and between her and Ace, our tight-knit friendship fell apart. For a long time, I could barely stand being in the same room with her, not because I was pining after her, but because I couldn’t understand why she was with someone who caused her so much pain.

Turns out that brought them closer together, and after they both made it through all the challenges thrown their way, they realized they were meant to be.

Doesn’t mean I had to stand there and take it all in.

I hear her sniffle as my finger trails under her eye, wiping a stray tear away before anyone catches sight of it. “God Dragon Man, you're going to make me cry, and I don’t cry.”

The feeling of someone watching me becomes overbearing and I know she must feel it too when the both of us turn to find Ace glaring in our direction from his spot at the round cocktail table placed at the edge of the gardens beside us. Sebastian and Jade are at his side, also watching us closely.

“You better go back to your husband before he goes all alpha on me in the middle of my best friend's wedding. I am the Best Man after all, it wouldn’t be me getting dragged out of here.”

She chuckles, blowing a kiss in Ace’s direction before turning toward me once more. “Fine, I will leave you to your Best Man duties. I am sure those include working on that speech I know you have not prepared.”

We both laugh knowing she’s right. I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m going to say.

Before she walks away, she turns back to me. “But one thing I still don’t understand is how you ended up here with her? You and Wynter never once spoke during our time at Servite. Not to mention she’s been gone the past three years. When did you guys start talking?”

“We’re not,” I reply.

Scar scoffs, irritated by my less than willingness to answer her nosy ass questions. “Now don’t patronize me by lying to me because I’ve also known you for a long time, Damon, and if you can see through all my bullshit, I can sure as fuck see right through yours.”

A laugh escapes me at how well she knows exactly what I was trying to do. And to think I once thought this was the girl for me. It would have never worked. We’re too fucking similar.

“We ran into each other when she came back into town a few days ago,” I lie. “And when we found out we were both coming to the wedding, we figured since neither one of us had a date, then why not come together.”

As if summoned by the devil himself, Ace suddenly appears beside us, wrapping his arms around Scar’s waist and bringing her in for a passionate kiss. I roll my eyes at his overt display of PDA, clearly marking the woman as his. As if the ring on her finger, or the child currently running around here along with the one in her stomach, aren’t enough.

“Ahem,” I clear my throat at the same time Jade and Bass come over to join us.

“Damon Drake,” Jade mutters, walking over to me. “You son of a bitch,” she whispers in my ear, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I place a soft kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you too, Wolfe.”

Behind her, Bass groans and I swear these guys are so fucking temperamental. I pull Jade in closer just to poke the fucking bear.

“Someone has to tell these guys the fact you both carried their children means you are off limits,” I murmur against her.

“Yeah, but the growling is so fucking hot.” Jade laughs and I release her, but not before she murmurs something only I can hear. “Wynter, really? I always knew you were a little whore, Drake, but fuck man, you sure know how to pick them.”

I have no time to respond, not that I need to explain myself, but fuck, they’re really getting to me acting like my being here with Wyn means we’re next to walk down the fucking aisle.

“So, you brought my sister?” Ace grunts, stepping up to me with his chest puffed out and an arm still snaked around Scarlett’s waist.

Scarlett saves her husband from whatever bullshit answer I was about to give him. “He says it means nothing. Just a mere coincidence,” she says, sarcasm clear in her tone. The woman smirks at me like she knows the excuse I gave her is a load of bullshit. “Apparently, the two of them ran into each other and decided since they were both coming here, it would make total sense to come together.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Anger flares in Ace’s eyes as he glares at me with only one thing on his mind. Murder. But just as I’m about to respond, Wynter comes rushing toward us, grabbing me by the arm and tugging me toward where her mother stands a few feet away.

“You’re wrong Willa,” Wyn says, turning to face her mother. “I don’t have to meet any of the men you’ve deemed appropriate suitors. I’m no longer a child you can manipulate to your will. Besides, even if I wanted to play along with your archaic match making, I have a boyfriend.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Wyn?” Ace shouts out, releasing Scar only to step closer to us. “And what the fuck are you still doing here?” he asks his mother.

Terror flashes in Wynter’s eyes at her brother’s reaction, but she quickly blinks it away, feigning confidence as her arm wraps around mine. Despite the determined look in her eyes, I can feel her trembling against me.

“Damon and I are together,” she says, like it’s not a fucking bomb she’s just detonated.

“You’re what?” the entire group shouts out in unison, equally astounded expressions on all their faces. I bite my tongue to hide my own stunned reaction.

What the fuck is going on here?

Wynter’s eyes meet mine in a silent plea to follow her little game and play along. Not this time. You just crossed the fucking line, Princess.

Her hands move to wrap around my left bicep, my muscles straining beneath my suit jacket as her delicate fingers rub back and forth, anxiously caressing me. The subtle movement sends a sharp pang of desire straight to my cock, making me shift uncomfortably in my pants to hide the evidence.

Wynter scoffs like she’s the only sane one around. “Damon and I are together. I don’t get what part of that was hard to understand.”

“Fuck no you are not!” Ace shouts, tugging his sister out of my arms. My hand reaches out to grab hers, pulling her back to me. “She cannot be yours.”

“The fuck she can’t,” I shout back at him, letting my possessive nature get the best of me. Ace Fucking Servite does not get to have a say in this.

Wynter gasps when I pull her into me, her body crashing against mine while my hands instinctively wrap around her waist to steady her.

Behind Ace, Scarlett’s eyes go wide at the sight of Wynter in my arms, her anxious gaze flicking back and forth between her husband and me.

Scar steps forward, placing a hand on Ace’s shoulder to calm him.

“Ace, baby, remember this is Stella’s wedding. We don’t want to cause a scene,” she reminds him, her eyes flicking to me. There’s a warning in her gaze, a silent threat to cut the bullshit and think about our friends.

“Ace,” Wynter interjects, not stepping out of my grasp as she turns her attention to her brother. In fact, she leans further against me, her hand resting on mine, currently gripping her hip. “You’re my brother and despite the asshole that you are sometimes, I love you, but don’t for a second think you get a say in who I fuck.”

Ace’s brows furrow deeper together and in that moment, I realize how much the two of them look alike. It’s unnerving to say the least. The same round blue eyes and sharp bone structure, complete with a thin nose and defined cheekbones and jaw. Ace’s hair is a darker shade of blond, but other than that, there is no doubt these two are twins.

Unlike Ruby and I, who look nothing alike other than the black hair and green eyes we share.

“You’re fucking him?” Ace growls, looking about ready to pounce on me.

Come at me, fucker. I dare you.

I can’t help but laugh. “Come on man, you’re on your second kid. It surprises me you still haven’t had the talk about the birds and the bees,” I mock, knowing that’s probably the opposite of what Scar was asking us to do. “It’s pretty common for couples to fuck when they’re in a relationship.”

Relationship. I just admitted to being in a fucking relationship with Wynter Servite.

What the fuck?

By this point, Ace is fucking livid, his face bright red as his anger consumes him. But you can see despite the rage he’s feeling, there’s a part of him holding back for obvious reasons.

“I’m going to fucking kill you for touching my sister, asshole,” he threatens, but before he can do anything about it, Scar saves the day.

“Enough both of you,” Scar cries out, making the few guests passing by us turn to glare in annoyance. “Wynter, Drake, congratulations or whatever.” She turns her anger at Ace, her scowl softening as she takes his face in between her hands. “Baby, this is none of your concern. Wynter is a big girl, and even if she wasn’t, you don’t get to interfere in her life that way.”

For a second I think he’s going to push her away and come at me, but to my surprise the whipped fucker concedes, wrapping his arms around his pregnant wife as he kisses her like they’re not standing in fucking public.

“I fucking love you,” he whispers to her, and that’s our cue to get the fuck out of there.

Wynter’s mood has completely changed.

She’s no longer the nervous wreck she was in the car this morning on our way here. Her hands are no longer trembling like they were as I walked her down the aisle to our seats for the ceremony. No, this version of Wynter, who’s currently sitting to my left, is carefree, a little careless, and a lot drunk.

We haven’t had a moment alone to talk about what happened earlier, meaning I haven’t had the chance to ask her what the fuck she was thinking, telling her mother, brother, and the rest of my friends that we are together.

The deal we made last night, one I was stupid enough to agree to, was that I’d come as her date to distract everyone from the fact she was not only covered in cuts and bruises and cuts, but visibly traumatized from whatever happened to her before arriving at my doorstep covered in blood. The makeup she’d used concealed almost every bruise, except for the fingers imprinted on her skin, which she hid with the diamond necklace cuffed around her neck.

The way she so expertly covered up the scars makes me wonder if this is something she’s had to do before.

Though what I don’t understand is where the hell she got the idea to tell everyone that we were in a fucking relationship.

Boyfriend . That was the word she’d used. Never had we agreed I’d pretend to be more than her date.

I wouldn’t haven’t accepted the terms of her while lie had she mentioned it before, which is probably why she hadn’t said a word to me since she blurted it out.

Apparently, the four cocktails she consumed before dinner were the liquid courage she needed to let go of whatever was haunting her and holding her back. Because now, she looks exactly like the girl I met three years ago. The girl I barely tolerated, yet couldn’t keep my eyes off of.

“So, tell me again how you started dating my dear brother?” Ruby asks, leaning over me to meet Wynter’s gaze, a mocking hiss in the tone of her voice. Ruby doesn’t seem too convinced by Wynter’s little confession, mainly because she knows I’d never be caught dead dating a Servite. Not that I’d tell her if I did. We’ve never had that type of relationship.

“It just happened,” Wyn says, licking the sugar rim of her cocktail before taking another sip. She twirls the end of her sleek ponytail around her fingers, biting down on her bottom lip the way she does when she’s nervous and I want nothing more than to reach out and lick it to see if she tastes as sweet as her sugary drink.

Ruby stares at her doubtfully, further pressing the issue. “Then what are your intentions with him?”

“Ruby,” I warn, telling her to back the fuck off. I know my sister, and she won’t stop until she figures out what game we’re playing, and I’m not up for playing anymore games tonight.

“What?” she says, feigning innocence. “Can’t blame a girl for being curious about her brother’s new girlfriend . Especially when said brother isn’t known to keep a girl around for long.”

I groan, throwing my head back in irritation. “Fuck, really Ruby.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” Wynter murmurs sweetly, her hand resting along my thigh like it’s the most normal thing. The contact makes me sit up straighter. Not only does her subtle touch shock the fuck out of me, but most importantly, I don’t like the way hearing her call me babe makes me feel. I groan again under my breath, the heat of her hand burning a hole through my pant leg straight to my dick. “She’s your sister. It’s natural for her to be protective of you.”

Ruby raises a brow at the way Wyn’s fingers slide back and forth along my thigh, her gaze drifting to me as she catches my reaction. I clench my jaw shut to suppress the guttural moan that wants to come out. I need to get laid.

My mind wanders to last night, Wynter seated on the island with my face between her spread legs. It would have been so easy to take what I wanted, what I’d been craving since the first time I had a taste, but I knew if I did, there was no going back.

That’s not a risk I’m willing to take for a quick release, even if I know it will be damn worth it.

“Yes, it’s in our blood to be protective of each other, given we were left to fend for ourselves from the beginning,” Ruby sneers, untrusting of what she’s witnessing.

I feel Wyn’s body shift closer to me. She’s practically sitting on my lap and I want nothing more than to pick her up and sit her perky ass straight on my dick and show her exactly what she’s doing to me.

“Exactly, but you don’t need to worry anymore, Ruby. Can I call you sis?” Wyn mocks, and I swear I see a fire flash in Ruby’s eyes. Wynter is being fucking bold, and if I weren’t so confused and pissed at her, I’d be enjoying this little back and forth between her and my sister.

Ruby sits up straighter, but her gaze doesn’t falter nor show how frustrated she’s becoming. Instead, she simply leans back in her seat and takes a sip of the cocktail in front of her.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Wyn,” Ruby taunts. “Like I said, Drake isn’t known for keeping a girl around for long. Actually, since Scarlett, I don’t think we’ve ever seen him with anyone.”

Fucking Ruby. She just had to name drop my ex-girlfriend, Wynter’s now sister-in-law. As if this shit couldn’t get any worse.

Though instead of angering her, that little observation my sister so eagerly shared makes Wynter smile.

“Yes, well, that's probably because our relationship is nothing new, Ruby. Damon and I have been seeing each other for a while now. We just decided it was finally time to go public. I’ve been staying at his house.”

Ruby’s eyes go wide, but she doesn’t let the shock of Wyn’s confession show. “You’re staying at the house?” she interrupts, asking Wynter though her gaze is fixed on me. Other than Ruby, no one has ever stayed at my home.

“Yes,” Wynter replies, not picking up on Ruby’s surprise. “And I used to crash at the apartment the few times I flew in from New York the past few years.”

Suddenly, curiosity and, dare I say, interest sparks in my sister’s bright green eyes. “And why were you in New York if my brother was here, Wyn?” Ruby taunts, insinuating she doesn’t believe a goddamn word Wyn’s saying.

I catch a hint of worry in Wynter’s eyes at my sister's inquiry, and something makes me jump to her rescue. I stand abruptly, pushing Ruby back in her seat when I do. “How about a dance, Princess?” I blurt out, extending my hand out for Wynter to take.

What the fuck since when do I dance?

Wyn’s eyes go wide, as do Ruby’s, probably asking themselves the same thing. “I’d love to,” Wyn replies, taking my outstretched hand and standing to join me.

I curl my fingers around her small hand and she leads me onto the dance floor, her hips swaying to the beat of the music playing in the background the moment we walk. I dare look back at where Ruby sits glaring angrily at us and regret it when I find all eyes on us.

Scar and Jade are knowingly smirking in our direction while Ace is glaring daggers at me and Stella and Kai, well the love birds are oblivious to what’s happening around them, enjoying the slice of cake they’re cutting into.

It’s some romantic shit that’s been playing, following the first dance of the bride and groom. A few couples are dancing around us, swaying to the rhythm of James Arthur’s Say You Won’t Let Go . It takes so much restraint not to reach out and grab her hips, pulling her back into me as my hands travel around every one of her perfect curves.

I want to touch every inch of her skin, but I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop there. I’ll want her naked so I can use my tongue to trace over every inch of skin my fingers touch.

Wynter turns in my arms, leaning her body closer to mine, her chest pressing tightly against me. Steadying herself, she reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. Staring up at me through heavy lids, her eyes gleam hazily with desire, her tongue trailing over her lips.

I’m tempted to lean in and take those luscious lips in mine, but before I can, her head falls against my shoulders while her arms tighten around me. My arms stiffen on her hips in response. I pull her body closer, feeling her warmth pressed against me, making my cock painfully hard.

A light moan leaves her lips and I know for a fact she felt my throbbing erection pressed against her pussy perfectly aligned with my dick in those fuck me heels she’s wearing.

“Damon,” she whimpers into the crook of my neck. The heat of her tequila scented breath warms my flesh.

The music changes, the rhythm intensifies, and the crowd goes wild when G-Eazy’s, Him & I, blares through the DJ’s speakers. More bodies surround us on the dance floor as the guests join us, but I don’t see anyone else but her. I lower my lips to her cheek as she straightens, her gaze meeting mine.

Clear blue eyes outlined in dark gray shadow that makes them glimmer bright stare intently at me. “Dance for me, Princess,” I murmur against the edge of her mouth where the makeup she’s wearing hides the cut I cleaned last night.

She spins in my arms, her ass pressing against my erection, making it fucking painful. I’m so hard from just the feel of her fully clothed body against mine. I can only imagine how I’ll be if I have her naked beneath me.

Again.

Wyn sways her hips along to the music and I join her, a slow and steady movement rocking to the rhythm of her body. My hands remain at her waist, pressing her tightly against me, causing her to throw her head back against my neck.

This is getting dangerous, but I won't be the one to stop it. I don’t have it in me.

My mind’s slowly clouding from the alcohol I’ve consumed, although it isn’t as much as her. I know I’m not thinking clearly when I slide my hands around and lower them to her ass.

She gasps as my hands squeeze her cheeks, wrapping around the front of her thighs, slowly grazing her pussy through the slit of her dress as my hand shifts to rest on her lower stomach.

Without warning, she spins in my arms, catching me off guard when her lips meet mine.