Book 2, Chapter 26: The Mystery Date, Part II

**Madison**

“FUCK!” Damien screams as he falls harshly to his knees. His gun now lays haphazardly on the ground. His scream ricocheted against the entire forest and summoned a ceasefire of the guns blazing in the distance. He was lying on the ground; his head was buried into the ground as he curled into himself.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, but I tried to hold it in. His men came out of the thick foliage like there was a fire lit on their asses. Seeing their panic brought on another fit of laughter, which made me cry!
“MADISON! Where are you, my amazing queen? Come on out. I think it’s safe to say you won!” Luke called out, with a sick smile on his face, watching his boss writhing in pain. “You okay, boss?” He asked Damien, who lifted his head up and cursed him out in Albanian. Luke just let out a booming belly laugh.

I made my way through the hole, squeezing the last of my flesh through the miniature obstacle course. I noticed all the men looking up at me with awe.

“Now, that is a great hiding spot, my queen,” Luke exclaimed, looking up at me as I dangled on the ledge, trying to figure out how to climb back over. I saw all the men and smiled at my silly plan.

“CATCH ME!” I screamed and let go, letting my body fall. I landed in a set of strong arms, but thanks to gravity and momentum, we tumbled onto the ground, the muscular hunk of flesh beneath me breaking my fall, and we both ‘oofed’ with the impact.

“Are you fucking crazy, Zemra ime?” Damien’s heated voice rang out next to me. “You could have gotten seriously injured!” he complained, still lying on the dirt floor.

“Nah!” I said dismissively as I rolled off the solid piece of man candy called Luke. I stood up and offered my hand to his to help him up. He grinned and accepted my assistance. “I knew Lukey boy here wouldn’t let me get hurt. You’d have killed him already!”

“HEY!” Luke gasped dramatically. “You seriously just played with my life and didn’t even care what would happen to me?”

“Yep!” I smiled brightly, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You are just like Damien,” Luke retorted, huffing. “I love it!” he proclaimed, putting his arm around my shoulders. I have come to enjoy having his sick and twisted sense of humor around. Luke reminds me so much of my brothers.

Some of the guards had helped Damien up off the ground, and Luke took the gun strapped to my shoulder from me.

“This is the last time I ever bring you to play paintball,” Damien grumbled.

“Oh, you big baby! It’s just a few hits to your thigh! You’ve had worse,” I faked sympathy.

“A few hits? If I didn’t know that you were one of the best fucking shots in the world next to your father Kai and brother Julien, I would have thought I was lucky you missed my favorite appendage by a mere inch. But you, my little minx, did that on purpose.”

I slowly stepped over to Damien and wrapped my hands around his waist. The vests we wore protecting our chests made the embrace a little awkward, but I still managed to get my hands mostly around him. “All is fair in love and war, Mjeshtri. (Master) I promise I will tend to your wounds tonight. Both your bruised leg and your ego,” I added, winking at him. He playfully growled before claiming my lips in a possessive kiss. I leaned into his touch as we continued to suck each other’s face into oblivion, only breaking apart to catch our breath.

We headed back to the front of the park, talking animatedly with the guards about the five rounds we just played. My team, rightfully named Dr. Sasquatch Sparklepants, won three games, and Damien’s boring ‘Team Abizi’ won two. The first four rounds were capture-the-flag style, each of us winning twice. This last round was sudden death, and the first team to get Damien or I would win. Damien promised a hefty bonus to the team that won. He chose all his best shooters for his team, but I decided Luke and the quiet ones, which proved to give Damien’s team a headache.

We were all sweaty, dirty, and covered in paint. We returned all the protective gear to the front desk before heading to the locker rooms to change back into our clothes from the black cargo ensemble we all had on.

“I still can’t believe you found that neat little hiding spot and shot me in the leg. That should be an automatic disqualification since you clearly cheated,” Damien teased.

“You’re right. I may have technically cheated, but since all you mafia men think you are so indestructible, you all decided to forfeit the rules and only declared no headshots, so I played by YOUR rules, dear. And you shot me in the ass in the first round, so we are even!” I huffed as I pulled up my jeans over the aching part of my behind.

“Hmm, I’ll make sure to rub your bruises well too, Zemra ime,” Damien exclaimed breathlessly behind me as he sensually rubbed that particular spot, sending shivers down to my toes and heat to my tummy. But to my disappointment, he stopped and finished dressing.

“You’ve gotten better in the last few years, butterfly. You were always a good match when we played in your family’s playroom, but now, I have to say, I am impressed,” Damien complimented. I smiled at him lovingly.
It was true. I had improved quite a bit. Growing up, we used to play paintball all the time in the maze. Damien always insisted on having me on his team when he would go against Caden and Arthur. Julien and I became a formidable enemy and soon became the undefeated champions. We still hold that title seven years running. My dads used it as training exercises for my brothers, and as I got older, I was included. Since I spent ninety-nine percent of my time locked up in the compound, I used the training grounds often when I wasn’t secretly building my cars or trying to hack into my Papa’s tech rooms.

“Where to next?” I asked as we headed out to the cars.

Damien whips out a pink envelope from his back pocket. “I can hear your tummy growling from the other side of the park, butterfly. So let’s get some lunch!” He takes out three white cards and holds them up for me to choose, the blank side facing me.

I study the cards momentarily before choosing the one to my right. I see Damien bite his lip, trying not to laugh as I pull it from his grasp.

I turn the card over and can’t help but laugh out loud.

*Hot dogs.*

That is what it read. He turned the other cards, and I faked disappointment. One card read Steak, and the other read Seafood—no doubt both would be expensive restaurants in the city.

Honestly, I love how casual this date is going. Soon, we were in the middle of downtown, and we parked near a street vendor stationed on the edge of a large rest area. Damien bought the whole cart, giving the poor owner a minor heart attack with the wad of cash he was given.

I couldn’t help the moan escaping from my mouth as I shoveled the third hot dog in my mouth. Damien and I had found a nice, quiet bench under some beautiful trees. He whipped out a blue envelope, which prompted our first topic of conversation – fantasy. He wanted to talk about sexual fantasy, and I, of course, decided to speak about supernatural fantasy stories. The jealous look on his face, when I talked about mating a dragon horde had me all hot and bothered between my thighs.

Then we tried to one-up each other on random facts before I settled on his lap, straddling his legs as we had a lightly heated discussion about corporal punishment versus torture.

The conversation continuously flowed so quickly with him. We can spend days talking about anything and everything and never tire. I watched him closely as he took a long sip of cold water, a little escaping from his lips. Since I was still straddled on his hips, I just leaned over to him and licked his jaw to the edge of his mouth. His eyes darkened with lust, watching me as I pulled back with a smirk.

Needless to say, we ended up having a very heated make-out session in the park. We were interrupted by some older religious ladies who tried to shame us for our public display of affection, saying it was a sin to behave in such a way, especially out of wedlock. “Believe me, lady, he is very much the definition of sin. Even Lucifer gets a hard-on when he hears me screaming my man’s unholy name,” I say, pressing myself closer to Damien, grinding against the rock in his pants. Damien plays along by grabbing my butt cheeks hard and attacking my neck with kisses. The ladies were mortified and ran off. Damien stopped his ministrations to laugh into my chest. I joined him before he claimed my lips again.

“You are incredible,” he said, lovingly holding my face in his palms. “I have to restrain myself from taking you right here on this bench and showing those ladies just how loud you scream my name…”

“Hmmm, as much as I would love that,” I said, grinding my wet core against him, “we have a date to finish. And I much prefer you make me scream in your playroom or our bed…” I said teasingly. He kissed me again before picking me up and running to the car.

“Slow down, Damien! Where are we going?” I chuckled as he practically threw me in the car, and we started off again.

“My Queen wants to finish this date before I take her home and ravish her body and soul, so that is what we are going to do,” Damien said, pulling out the yellow and green envelopes. “Yellow first, Zemra ime. It will tell us what we are doing this afternoon. And the green one is the twist for the activity.”

I quickly pulled out the first card and squealed—*mini golf*. The green envelope was next to me, and I pulled out the last card. It read *loser strips*.

“What is it, butterfly?” Damien asks as he swerves through the streets with ease.

“It looks like we are playing mini golf with a side of striping,” I say, flashing him the cards and a glorious smile. “Maybe we will get lucky, and those ladies will be there and can get front-row seats to see just how sinful we can be…”