*Isabella's POV*
"It's okay. I'll call my pilot," Damien said, already pulling out his phone, his movements efficient and decisive.
"Thanks, man," Jacob said, his voice thick with gratitude.
Damien just nodded in response, his fingers already flying across the screen as he walked out of the dining room, leaving me sitting there, alone with Jacob and a sudden, chilling sense of unease.
The second Damien was out of earshot, I practically scrambled over to Jacob, my heart pounding with a sudden, sharp anxiety. "What's going on, Jacob?" I asked, my voice low and urgent.
He just sighed, a heavy, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. "Some issues," he said, his gaze distant. "I don't want to talk about it." He added, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer until I was flush against him, his warmth a small comfort against the chill of his words.
"Just kiss me," he said, his voice a raw, desperate plea.
And I did. I didn't hesitate. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me as his lips met mine in a kiss that was gentle yet so fucking sensual, so full of a desperate, passionate sadness that it made my chest ache. He wrapped his arms tighter around me, like he was trying to memorize the feel of my body against his.
"Oh god, I'm going to miss this," he murmured against my lips between kisses.
"You and me both," I whispered back, my own voice thick with emotion. "You dofus" I said, trying to sound encouraging, but it came out as a choked whisper.
Just then, Damien returned to the room, clearing his throat with a loud, deliberate cough to make his presence known. We pulled apart like guilty teenagers, the intimate bubble shattered by his return.
"Matthew says the plane will be ready in an hour," Damien said, his voice all business, his expression unreadable.
"Okay, I should go pack," Jacob said, turning to me. He gave me one last, quick kiss, a desperate, fleeting press of his lips, before he turned and walked out of the room to pack his bag.
And I saw it. I saw the hurt in his eyes, the raw, fucking heartbreak he was struggling to mask. It was a mirror image of the exact same ache I felt blooming in my own goddamn heart.
An hour later, we were standing at the giant fucking front door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the house. It was time to bid Jacob farewell.
"Kiss me, Isabella," he said, his voice thick with a sadness that made my chest ache. So I did.
This time, the kiss wasn't hungry or demanding. It was possessive, a deep, desperate press of his lips against mine, like he was almost too fucking scared to let go. It was a kiss that said 'I don't want to leave you.'
"Will you come visit me in New York?" he asked, his voice a hopeful whisper against my lips.
"I don't know... maybe," I said, pulling back with a little giggle, trying to lighten the mood that had suddenly gotten so fucking heavy.
"Oh, you cruel, cruel woman," he said, his dramatic sigh making me smile despite the ache in my chest.
"Oh, Jacob, you big dork," I said, pulling him into a tight hug, burying my face in his chest for a second to just breathe him in.
He pulled away, turning to Damien, who had been standing there like a silent, brooding statue the entire time. "Goodbye, brother," Jacob said.
"And remember," he added, a mischievous glint finally returning to his eyes, "no funny business." He shot Damien a wink.
"Toodles," he said with a final, ridiculous grin, before turning and walking out the door. I watched him climb into the waiting car and drive away, the red taillights disappearing into the darkness, a knot of something tight and uncomfortable forming in my stomach.
And then there were two. Just me and Damien, standing in the cavernous foyer, the silence ringing in my ears now that Jacob's playful energy was gone.
"No funny business, huh?" I asked, my voice coming out smaller and more nervous than I intended. I was trying for a joke, but it fell flat. A sudden, chilling realization washed over me. The person who had brought me and Damien together, the reason we were this closer, the buffer between his intensity and my anxiety... he just left. What now?
Damien started toward me, his expression the cold, hard CEO gaze I was so fucking accustomed to, the one that always made me feel like I was about to be fired. But as soon as he was a few inches away from me, something shifted. His eyes started to light up, and for a brief, breathtaking second, I could read a million fucking emotions inside of them. Lust, a deep, simmering sadness, and a strange sense of resignation.
Then he kissed me.
It was so silent, yet so fucking powerful I felt my knees go weak. I needed to hold on to him to keep from falling, my hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, clutching at him like he was my only anchor in a storm. My mouth was completely dominated by his, a slow, deep, possessive dance that left me breathless and trembling.
I had dreamed of kissing Damien Lancaster so many times over the years. I'd imagined it in the break room, in his office, late at night when I was alone in my bed. But I never, in my wildest fucking dreams, imagined it would be so different, so much better each and every time it happened. He could kiss me softly, like he did on our first kiss, a gentle exploration that made my heart ache. He could kiss me with a raw,
possessiveness that left me feeling claimed and utterly ruined, like in the bedroom. Or he could kiss me with so much passion and sentiment, like he was doing right now, a kiss that felt like it was pouring every unspoken word, every hidden emotion, straight into my soul.