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"And you have no idea how happy I am you came back here with me." Soft kisses were placed from my neck to my jaw while he spoke, "I never thought I would be so lucky, not after seeing you day and day again sitting at your locker."My jaw dropped! "You remember seeing me?" Obviously I was floored. I was the quiet, socially awkward type. I would be surprised if anyone not in my grade knew who I was. "I do," he replied huskily, "I liked seeing you then, and I'm gonna love seeing you now." He placed a quick kiss at the corner of my mouth before he started towards his bedroom, carrying me. Damien carefully lay me on the bed with my legs hanging over the edge. He leaned over me, and once again brought his mouth to my neck and began kissing. Only this time, he led a trail of kisses down my chest, over my clothes, and to my stomach. He stopped when he reached my jeans and looked up as if asking permission to remove them. I gave him a simple nod of the head, and he began working my jeans off. What they would make of me on the other hand was a different matter completely. To them, I was one of the hoi polloi. Mind I was a little taken aback by the cost of hiring a bleeding diner jacket. Kathy picked me up from my house in a bloody Bentley, which turned out to be her father’s company car, complete with his chauffeur behind the wheel. I got the feeling that she had decided that my old LR was the sort of vehicle she wouldn’t want to turn up in at the Ball. God, Kathy looked like a bleeding debutante or something, whereas I looked and felt like a trussed up chicken. Come to think of it, it was probably the first time I hadn’t been wearing my Levi’s in years. I wonder what they would have made of it if I’d worn my Levi’s with a diner jacket that evening. The night was interesting if nothing else. There were a lot of old farts there, oh, you remember what that guy said about hunting – ‘The unspeakable chasing the uneatable’. Well, as far as most of the people I met that evening.
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