Silent Screams (Hollow #1)

CHAPTER 9

The next day, I’m squirming in the passenger seat of Damon’s Tesla, feeling rather exposed in the gray pencil skirt. But more than that, all I can do is look out the windows, watching the surrounding traffic.

Because it’s silent. Dead silent.

I should be used to it by now with Harvey. For some reason, today it’s leaving me restless. My eyes shoot to Damon’s hand holding the steering wheel while his other lays atop the center console—so damn close to me.

I’m almost tempted to put on some music but a part of me doesn’t want him to think I’m affected by him, by this silence.

Silence is me.

I own silence.

“Plans this weekend?” I ask, earning a twitch of his lip, as if he was playing some sick game and won.

He shrugs. “Work.”

“Just work?”

He nods as he turns the steering wheel in a sexy manner. “We have deadlines coming up...”

More silence .

“You?”

I finally let my eyes travel over his face, and he chooses this moment to turn, too, our gazes locking, his eyes undressing my spirit, my body, my soul—with one look.

“Girls’ night with my sister.”

The congested road gains his focus again. “Older? Younger?”

“Twin.” I say, hoping he doesn’t comment on the stereotypical twinsome fantasy like most men do.

He doesn’t.

He parks underground, and we march next to one another before reaching the elevators.

He gestures for me to go first, and I’m ridden with anxiety as the tiny elevator brings us closer together. The air feels thick.

My body is bursting—flaming with desire all over, a sexual ache heating me up like a fever.

It’s painful—so, so painful. I’ve never felt this sexually deprived my entire life. Not even with two and a half years of sexless time with Harv.

I rub my legs together, sure Damon will reason that I’m trying to keep warm. He notices the gesture, a brow rising.

“Cold?”

I nod—my voice would betray my thoughts, no doubt. I’m wearing a long coat, but it’s not nearly as warm as my puffer jacket.

He takes off his gray wool coat and stands in front of me to wrap it around my shoulders over my own coat, surprising me with his manners.

He doesn’t touch me, yet it feels as if my breathing is failing me.

Surely this is crossing a line he wouldn’t cross with other employees. Marie told me when she was on a gossiping streak that Damon would never be caught dead with his pants around his knees at work .

He pushes my hair over the neckline of his coat, one of his fingers skimming my neck in the process.

Gemma, you stupid, stupid girl. Don’t do this to Harvey.

A shocking reality hits me square in the chest as it dawns on me that I wouldn’t object to Damon putting his hands all over me.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me with him.

“Better?” Brooding eyes search mine for a response to his question. I nod, my teeth seeking out my lip as a distraction. His gaze grows darker, more sinful, as he stares at my lips like he wants to devour them.

Three things happen at the same time. He turns away from me. He curses. And the elevator doors open.

I try to compose myself before heading to this lunch meeting. I don’t want people catching me with red cheeks and getting the wrong idea.

Nothing happened. You love Harvey.

I relax at the thought and straighten my shoulders to give me the false confidence I’m currently lacking.

“You brought the iPad, I hope?”

“Yeah.” I lift up my purse to prove my point.

“You don’t speak much. It’s . . . unusual.”

We arrive at the Italian restaurant, where Damon tells the hostess his name.

“Unusual?” I ask him before the hostess grabs both coats I’m wearing, giving my boss a well-deserved eyeful.

“Katherine talked a lot more,” he says simply, both of us following another hostess to our table.

“Gentlemen, meet Ms. Ackerman.” He introduces me as I give a few handshakes. He pulls out a chair for me and I sit, grateful to give my legs a break. I can’t remember the last time I felt so much.

At least not the last time I felt something that wasn’t pain .

I don’t waste a second opening the iPad along with the Notes app, writing a few lines throughout lunch.

Damon throws quick-witted responses their way, and I can tell by the end of this meeting that they’re more satisfied to do business with him for this project as well.

He's good at what he does.

When I took this job, I hadn’t expected to find a possible mentor in my boss but perhaps I will. The man clearly knows his stuff: business, laws, technicalities, anything scientific and environmental, and he seems to be onboard.

Even better, he doesn’t throw his morals down people’s throats.

“It was really, really nice to meet you.” One of the men takes my hand in his for a beat too long. I’m not keen on his lingering eyes and from the look on Damon’s face, neither is he.

Damon places his hand on the small of my back, my mind reeling from the contact. It’s possessive, and my body warms at the gesture. I can’t move; my heart is beating as if I’ve twisted the throttle of a motorcycle.

Until I remember that I don’t have one anymore.

The thought is enough to bring me back to earth and suddenly I’m walking ahead of Damon, no longer feeling his hand hovering at my back.

I’m surrounded by men I can’t read. It’s frustrating.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as we leave the elevator leading to the underground parking lot.

I stare at him, bewildered. How can he possibly know something is wrong when I didn’t even utter a single word? More manners show up when he opens his car door for me.

I get to breathe properly for the last few seconds before he climbs into the driver seat and turns to look at me.

Damon empowers.

Not only with his stare, but with his energy, with this sense of calmness he possesses. I won’t even start with his beauty or the way he smells.

Harvey, Harvey, Harvey.

I close my eyes and think of the day we met. Of the light that shone through his blue eyes, piercing a hole into my heart from that day on. Today the hole is still there but for very different reasons—none of them good.

“Do I have to ask again?”

Clearly.

I bite my tongue. Gia’s right, I need a release. I need to start walking again to take charge of the change that is happening in my life. I don’t know where I’m heading, I feel so lost.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You shut down after we left. Did someone make you uncomfortable—did I?”

His body is angled toward mine now, though I’m looking straight ahead.

“Not at all.” He doesn’t seem convinced, so I change the subject. “I’m curious; how does being an environmentalist fit into your lifestyle?”

“Lifestyle?”

I finally face him. “You have a private plane.” And you’re a millionaire, I think, but I don’t share that. He doesn’t need to know how much time I’ve spent researching him online.

“The company has a private plane.”

“Which you’re the CEO of,” I say, and we’re out of the dim parking lot, the smooth speed of the Tesla driving away.

“Look, I don’t pretend to be perfect. If I did, I’d be vegan.” He rolls his eyes. “We only use the plane for important business meetings or events. Everything else, I use technology.”

“So you care for the environment?”

He cocks his head. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Somehow it feels like we’re talking about something completely different. Like I’m asking him if he’s capable of caring for someone. He must sense it too, because his jaw clicks tight, and I know not to push my luck.

We ride back to work in a comfortable silence. Unlike with Harv, this one isn’t filled with hate or miscommunication. No, rather it’s filled with curiosity and wonder.

And that’s a deadly combination where the heart is concerned.