Amy's POV
The burning in my chest was almost enough to distract me from the mess inside my head. Almost. My mind was still thinking in the last exchange we had after we fucked in her car.
"I assume you'll ignore the account I set up for you. I realize this can't happen again" I said, avoiding her eyes, my voice as neutral as possible. I could feel her eyes burning my skull while I was fixing my clothes but I didn't dare to look at her. I just couldn't, everything was becoming too real with her.
Moments passed and she was still silent. That was driving me crazy so I decided to stop being a pussy and finally looked at her. Her beauty left me breathless for a moment. The expression on her face was unreadable. "Say something so I know you've heard me."
"Tell Lauren I'll be there for dinner Miss Raudenfeld. And get the hell out of my car"
I increased the incline on the treadmill and pushed myself harder. Feet pounding, muscles on fire, it always worked. That was how I lived my life. There was nothing I couldn't accomplish if I just pushed hard enough: school, career, and women.
Shit. Women.
Disgusted, I shook my head and turned up the volume on my iPod, hoping it would distract me long enough to get some sense of peace. I didn't. I should have known that. She was fucking everywhere. Every time I closed my eyes she was right there with me. Mocking me. Fighting me. Wanting me. Fucking me and me fucking her. Being with her satiated the hunger I felt for her, but after it was over I always found myself wanting, no, more like needing more of her as soon as it ended. She was like a drug to me. Great now I quoting freaking "Twilight", that's just great Amy. It was terrifying, because in those moments with her, I'd do anything she asked. And that feeling was starting to bleed into moments like this too, when I wasn't even with her and still wanted to be what she needed. Ridiculous.
My earbud was tugged free, and I turned toward the source of the annoyance. "What?" I said, glaring at my stepsister.
"You keep that up, we're gonna be peeling you off the floor, Ames," she replied. "What'd she do to piss you off this time?"
"Who?"
She rolled her eyes. "Duh, Karma."
I felt my stomach tighten at the sound of her name and focused my attention back on the treadmill. "What makes you think this has anything to do with her?"
"Because I'm not a fucking idiot."
"Nothing's bothering me. And even if something was, why on earth would it have anything to do with her?"
She smirked, shaking her head. "I've never met anyone who gets this kind of reaction out of you. And you know why, don't you?" She had shut off her machine and was now focusing all her attention on me. Crap. I knew she suspected something. Lauren was perceptive, too perceptive at times. And if there was ever anything I wanted to keep from her, it was this.
I kept my gaze forward as I ran, trying not to meet her eyes. "Enlighten me."
"Because you two are too much alike," she said smugly.
"What?"
Several people turned to see why I was yelling in the middle of the crowded gym. I slammed my hand down on the stop button and turned to face her. "How could you even think that? We are nothing alike." I was sweaty, out of breath, and ramped up from running ten miles. But right now, the rise in my blood pressure had nothing to do with my workout.
Taking a long drink from her water bottle, Lauren continued to smirk. "Who do you think you're talking to? I've never met two people more alike. First of all . . ." She paused, clearing her throat and bringing her hand up to dramatically tick things off on her fingers. "You're both intelligent, determined, hardworking, and loyal. And," she continued, pointing at me, "she's a firecracker. In fact, she's the first woman in your entire life that can stand up to you and doesn't follow you around like some lost puppy. You hate how much you need that."
Had everyone lost their mind? Sure, she might be some of those things; even I couldn't deny that she was incredibly intelligent. She was a hard worker; I was often surprised at how well she kept up with things. She was definitely determined, although I would describe it more along the lines of pigheaded or stubborn. And there was no question of her loyalty. She could have sold me out a hundred times since we'd started this sick game
I stood glaring at her as I tried to formulate my response. "Yeah, well, she's also a raving bitch with a princess complex." Nice. Very articulate, Amy.
Stepping down, I quickly wiped off my machine and made my way across the gym in an effort to escape.
She laughed happily behind me. "See? I knew she was getting to you."
"Fuck off, Lauren."
I settled in to do some sit-ups when she stood over me, grinning like a cat that swallowed a canary. "Well, my work is done here," she said, brushing off her hands and looking increasingly pleased with herself. "Guess I'll be heading home."
"Good. Go."
Laughing, she turned to leave but stopped abruptly and turned around to face me "Did you do what I asked you?"
"What?"
"Invite Karma to the dinner like I told to do?" she replied annoyed.
I nodded, sitting up to fiddle with my shoelaces. "She said she'd be there."
"Good, thanks stepsis you're not entirely useless after all" she said, a smirk on her face. I rolled my eyes at her in annoyance. Suddenly curiosity took over me and I couldn't help it.
"So, who is this guy anyway?" I asked disinterested. I didn't want her to suspect even more of me.
"Liam Booker" she replied like it was nothing, but she knew exactly the effect it will had on me.
"WHAT? Are you out of your freaking mind? He's our biggest client's son!" I almost yelled at her.
"I know exactly who he is, no need to yell to remind me" she replied snarky.
"I'm not yelling! And what that hell you think you're doing?" I asked coldly. I was very close to losing it.
"Smart business" she answered. "Our client's son is happy, so our client is happy and that makes us very rich and happy, is that simple Ames"
"He is a fuckboy you know that!" I said angrier that I supposed to. "And since when we pimp our employees?"
"Oh come on Amy, don't you think you're overreacting a little bit here?" she asked, eying me suspiciously.
"No, you know what I feel about mixing business with pleasure" I said determined. Yes I was a fucking hypocrite but I didn't care at the time.
"I thought you'll be happy" she said estranged. "Karma dating Booker can have her perks; she'll be infinitely more docile with you in the office"
"And why exactly would that be?" I asked confused. Lauren smirked at me and it hit me. The thought of them sleeping together make me sick to the stomach. "You're disgusting"
I lay back, began doing sit-ups a bit faster than was necessary.
"No, I'm proactive" she said, a smug smile in her face. I wanted to punch her so much right now. "See later, Ames"
"Yeah, later," I mumbled.
Sunday night as I lay in bed I replayed the plan in my head. I was thinking about her too much, and differently. I had to be tough and make it a week without touching her. It was like detoxing. Seven days, I could do that. Seven days of not touching her and this thing would be out of my system. I could finally move on with my life. There were just a couple of precautions I had to take.
First, I couldn't be goaded into arguing with her. For some reason, the two of us arguing was like some sick form of foreplay. Second: no more fantasizing about her, ever. That meant no more reliving sexual encounters, no more fantasizing about new ones, and no more picturing her naked or with any of my body parts coming in contact with any of hers.
And for the most part, things seemed to go according to plan. I was in a constant state of discomfort and the week seemed to drag on, but aside from a lot of dirty fantasies, I remained in control. I did my best to stay busy outside the office, but during the times we were forced together, I kept a constant distance, and for the most part we treated each other with the same polite aversion we had before.
But I swear she was trying to break me. Each day it seemed that Miss Ashcroft looked sexier than the day before. Every day there was something about what she wore or did that brought my mind back to the gutter. I'd made a deal with myself that there would be no more lunchtime "sessions." I had to stop this, and imagining her while masturbating—hell, imagining her masturbating—wasn't going to help.
Monday she wore her hair down. All I could think about as she sat across from me during a meeting was wrapping it around my hands as she went down on me.
Tuesday she had on a formfitting knee-length skirt and those stockings with the seam up the back. She looked like some sort of hot secretary pinup.
Wednesday she wore a suit. That was unexpectedly worse, because I couldn't get my mind off what it would feel like to slide those pants down her long legs.
Thursday she had on a perfectly ordinary V-neck blouse, but twice when she bent over to pick up my pen I got a good look down her shirt. Only one of those times was on purpose.
By Friday I thought I would explode. I hadn't masturbated once all week and was walking around with the worst case of blue ovaries known to woman.
As I walked into the office Friday morning, I was praying that maybe she would call in sick. Somehow I knew I wouldn't be that lucky. I was horny and in a particularly bad mood, and when I opened the office door I almost had a heart attack. She was bent over watering a plant in a charcoal gray sweater dress and knee-high boots. Every curve of her body was on display. Someone up there really hated me.
Good morning, Miss Raudenfeld," she said sweetly, stopping me as I passed her. Something was up. She never said anything sweetly to me. I eyed her suspiciously.
"Good morning, Miss Ashcroft. You seem to be in an exceptionally cordial mood today. Did somebody die?"
The corner of her mouth lifted in a devilish smirk. "Oh, no. I'm just excited about dinner tomorrow, and meeting Liam. Lauren's told me all about him. I think we really might have a lot in common."
Son of a bitch. "Oh right. Dinner. I'd completely forgotten. Yes, you and Liam. . . Well, since he's a mama's boy and you're an overbearing shrew, you two should find a pretty solid love connection. I'd love a cup of coffee if you're getting one for yourself." I turned and headed into my office.
It occurred to me that it might not be in my best interest to let her make my coffee. One of these days she was likely to put something in it. Like arsenic.
Before I'd even sat down, she knocked at my door.
"Come in."
She set my coffee down hard enough that some of it spilled on what she knew damn well was a custom-built fifteen-thousand-dollar desk, and turned to look at me.
"Are we having the scheduling meeting this morning?" She was standing near my desk in a pool of sunlight. Shadows draped across her dress, accentuating the curve of her breasts. Fuck, I wanted to pull her tight nipple into my mouth. Was it cold in here? How could she be cold when I was sweating bullets?
I had to get the hell out of here.
"No. I forgot about a meeting downtown this afternoon. So I'll be leaving for the day in about ten minutes. Just e-mail me all the details," I replied quickly, heading for the safety and coverage of my desk chair.
"I wasn't aware of any off-site meeting today," she said skeptically.
"No, you wouldn't have been," I said. "It's personal."
When she didn't respond I chanced a glance up and saw a strange expression on her face. What was that look? She obviously looked mad, but there was something else. Was she. . . was she jealous?
"Oh," she answered, chewing on her lower lip. "Is it with someone I know?" She never asked questions about where I was going. "I mean, just in case your father or sister need to get a hold of you.
"Well . . ." I paused, trying to torture her a bit. "In this day and age, if someone needs to get a hold of me, they can call my cell phone. Is there anything else, Miss Ashcroft?"
She hesitated for a moment before lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders. "Since you won't be here, I was thinking that I'd like to start the weekend early. Maybe do some shopping for tomorrow night."
"No problem. I'll just see you tomorrow." Our gazes locked across the desk, and the electricity in the air was so palpable I could feel my heart rate increase.
"Have a nice meeting," she said through clenched teeth, leaving and closing the door behind her.
I was relieved when I heard her leave fifteen minutes later. Deciding it was now safe to go, I gathered up my things and headed out. I was stopped by a man carrying a large flower arrangement.
"Can I help you with something?" I asked.
Looking up from his clipboard he glanced around before answering, "I have a delivery for a Miss Karma Ashcroft?"
What the—? Who the hell would send her flowers? Was she seeing someone while we were . . . ? I couldn't even finish the thought.
"Miss Ashcroft has gone for lunch. She'll be back in about an hour," I lied. I had to get a look at that card. "I'll sign for those and make sure she gets them." He set the arrangement on her desk.
Signing the clipboard quickly, I handed him a tip and mumbled a good-bye as he left. For three long minutes I stood and stared at the flowers, willing myself to stop being such a pussy and to definitely not look at the card.
Roses. She despised roses. I snickered because whoever sent her these knew nothing about her. Even I knew she didn't like roses. I'd overheard her telling Zita one day about how one of her dates sent her a bouquet. She'd immediately given them away, disliking the pungent scent. Finally, my curiosity got the better of me and I ripped the card away from the arrangement
Looking forward to dinner,
Liam Booker
That foreign sensation slowly spread through my chest again as I crumpled the card in my fist.
Retrieving the flowers from her desk, I walked out the door, locking up behind me, and made my way down the hall to the elevator.
Just as the doors opened I passed a wide chrome garbage can, and without a second thought I dropped the vase and all of its contents inside.
I didn't know what the fuck was going on with me. But I did know there was no way in hell she was going out with Liam Booker.
I spent the better part of Saturday running at the lake, trying to get some air, some distance, and some clarity to my thoughts. Even so, the hour-long drive to my mother's house gave me plenty of time to return to the tangle of frustrations in my head: Miss Ashcroft, how I hated her, how much I craved her, the flowers Liam sent. Leaning farther back into the seat, I tried to let the soothing sound of the car engine calm me. It wasn't working.
So here were the facts: I felt possessive of her. Not in a romantic sort of way, but in a "hit her over the head, drag her off by the hair, and fuck her" way. Like she was my toy and I was keeping the boys in the sandbox from playing with her. How sick was that? f she ever heard me admit to that, she would probably slap me gladly on the face.
Now the question was how to proceed. Obviously Liam was interested. How could he not be? She was breathtakingly beautiful, but there was no way he could have an actual conversation with her and still find her appealing. They were nothing alike and he was way out of her league.
Unless he just wanted to fuck her . . .
The sound of the leather steering wheel straining under my grip told me I'd be better off not thinking about that.
He wouldn't have agreed to meet her at my mom's house if all he wanted was sex would he? I considered this. Maybe he really did want to get to know her better. Hell, even I could admit to having been a bit intrigued before we actually spoke. Of course, that hadn't lasted long, and she'd proven to be one of the most aggravating people I'd ever met. Unfortunately for me, she was also the best sex I'd ever had.
Fuck, he'd better never get that far. I wasn't sure I knew where to hide a body around here
I parked the car in front of my mom's house and began mentally chanting, "You can do this. You can do this".
"Mom?" I called out; looking into each room I passed.
Out here, Amy," I heard her answer from the back patio.
I opened the French doors and was greeted with my mother's smile as she put the finishing touches on the outdoor table.
"So why are we eating out here tonight?"
"It's such a lovely evening, and I thought it might make everyone more comfortable than sitting in that stuffy dining room. You don't think anyone will mind, do you?"
"Of course not," I said. "It's beautiful out here. Don't worry."
And it was beautiful. The patio was topped with a massive white pergola, the beams draped in heavy greenery. The centerpiece was a large rectangular table that sat eight; it was covered in a soft ivory tablecloth and my mother's favorite china. Candles and blue flowers overflowed small silver pitchers running the length of the table, and wrought-iron candelabra flickered overhead.
"You do know that not even I can keep Sofia from tearing this stuff off the table, though, don't you?" I popped a grape into my mouth.
"Oh, she's with Theo's parents tonight. And just as well," she said. "If Sofia were here all the attention would be on her."
Shit. With Sofia making faces across from me, I would have had something to distract me from Liam.
"Tonight is about that girl Karma. Lauren is really hopeful that she'll hit it off with this Liam fellow." She continued flitting around the patio, lighting candles and making last-minute adjustments, completely unaware of my anguish.
I was screwed. As I was contemplating making a run for it, I heard Lauren. "Where is everybody?" she yelled, her high- pitch voice echoing through the empty house. Opening the door for my mother, we stepped inside, finding my sister in the kitchen with her husband.
"So Amy, Liam and Karma are about to get here, I know you don't like them but I need you in your best behavior tonight, is important that everything goes smoothly as possible" she said, her voice serious.
"Sure, don't worry about me, I'll be an angel" I said sweetly. She looked at me skeptically. I didn't blame her I didn't believe myself either.
Deciding I needed a few minutes to think, I excused myself and headed up the stairs to my old room. Sitting on my old bed I thought about how I'd feel if Miss Ashcroft actually became involved with Liam Booker. Ugh, the thought of him touching her made every muscle in my body clench.
Hearing a renewal of greetings and Liam's voice downstairs, I decided it was time to woman up and face the music.
As I cleared the final landing, I saw her. Her back was to me . . . and the air left my lungs.
Her dress was red.
Why did it have to be red?
She was wearing some sort of girly summer thing that stopped right above the knee and showed off her long legs. The top was made of the same material, with little ribbons tying it together at the top of each shoulder. All I could think was how much I would love to pull those ribbons loose and see it all fall around her waist. Or maybe drop to the floor.
Our eyes met across the room and she smiled such a genuine, happy smile that for a second even I believed it. "Hi, Miss Raudenfeld."
My lips twitched in amusement, watching her play the part in front of my family. "Miss Ashcroft," I replied, nodding. Our gaze never broke, even as my mother called everyone onto the patio for drinks before dinner.
As she passed, I turned my head, speaking in a voice low enough that only she could hear. "Successful shopping trip yesterday?"
Her eyes met mine, that same angelic smile on her face. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She brushed by me, and I felt my entire body stiffen. "And by the way, a new line of garter belts came in," she whispered before following everyone else outside.
I stopped and my jaw went slack as my mind raced back to our tryst in the dressing room at La Perla.
Up ahead, Liam leaned in close to her. "I really hope you didn't mind the flowers I sent to your office yesterday. I admit it was a bit much, but I've been looking forward to meeting you." I felt a knot tighten in my gut as Liam's words snapped me out of my dirty daydream.
She turned back to look at me. "Flowers? Did I have flowers delivered?"
I shrugged and shook my head. "I left early, remember?" I walked by on my way outside to make myself a Belvedere vodka gimlet.
As the evening wore on, I couldn't help but keep track of her in my peripheral vision. When dinner finally began, it was apparent that things were going relatively smoothly between her and Liam. She was even flirting with him.
"So Karma, Lauren told me you're from Texas?" Liam's voice interrupted yet another fantasy—this one of my fist hitting his jaw. I looked over to see him smiling warmly at her.
"That's right. My Dad is the owner of a juice company in Austin. My mom past away a few years ago so we came here to make a fresh start" she explained, traces of sadness on her eyes were visible.
"I'm so sorry about your Mom Karms" Liam said looking a little guilty for bringing the subject. I felt guilty myself for not knowing something like that about her. I should talk to her a little bit more, get to know her, not just fuck her on regular basis.
"Don't worry about it" she smiled at him warmly. She never smiled at me like that and I hated that and Liam Booker. "Now tell me about you"
"Well believe or not I'm from Austin too actually" he said smiling that million dollar smile of him. "We moved to Chicago when my family's company started to grow"
"No way, what school did you went? Karma asked excitedly. I was getting more annoyed by the second.
"Hester High and you?" Liam asked equally excited.
"I went there too" she said enthusiastic, suddenly a look of recognition crossed her face. "Oh my god, you're Liam Booker, the most popular guy in school". Great she knew him from the past. Just what I needed.
"Well I don't know I never really care much about popularity" he said humble. Yeah sure fuckboy, you probably lived for the popularity that's pure bullshit right there.
"So, tell me you're still an artist or you decided to follow your dad's footsteps?"Karma asked curiously.
"An artist, I kind of the black sheep of the family" Liam replied sheepishly. What a walking cliché, how can she be interested in this guy?
"Well I wanted to be a singer but I give up for college, singing doesn't pay the bills and all that" she said, sadness laced on her voice.
"You sing? I asked incredulous "You never told me that"
"Yes, I sing and you don't allow your employees to talk about their personal life in work hours Miss Raudenfeld" she said and stared at me for a moment and I had to admit I felt a hint of guilt twisting in my chest. It was quickly suppressed when she looked back over at Liam, biting her lip in the innocent way that only she could make look so damn sexy.
Stop flirting with him.
I clenched my fists as they continued to speak to each other. But several minutes later I froze. Could that be? I grinned into my cocktail. Yes, that was most definitely her foot creeping up my pant leg. Fucking devious little minx, touching me while carrying on a conversation with a man we both knew could never satisfy her. I watched her lips as they closed around her fork, my vagina moistened as her tongue slowly ran across them to remove the traces of marinade left behind by the fish.
"Wow, top five percent of your class at Northwestern. Nice!" Liam said and then looked over at me. "Bet you're glad to have someone so amazing working under you, huh?"
Karma coughed slightly, bringing her napkin up from her lap to cover her mouth. I smiled as I quickly glanced over to her and then back to Liam. "Yes, it's absolutely amazing having Miss Mills under me. She always gets the job done."
"Aw, Amy. That is so sweet of you," my mother gushed, and I watched Miss Ashcroft's face begin to redden. My smile vanished when I felt her foot well… there. It was my turn to cough, choking on my gimlet.
"Are you all right, Miss Raudenfeld?" she asked in feigned concern and I nodded, glaring daggers at her. She shrugged and then looked back over to Liam. "So how long have you been living here Liam?"
With the toe of her shoe, she continued to rub gently against me and I tried to keep control of my breathing, keep my expression neutral. As Liam began telling her about how he traveled across Europe while he was majoring in History of Arts in a very prestigious college in Italy and how after a couple of years he moved back to the states and opened a small art gallery, I watched her expression morph from one of feigned interest to one of genuine intrigue.
Hell no.
I slid my left hand under the tablecloth and met the skin of her ankle, watching her jump slightly at the contact. I moved my fingertips in light circles, ran my thumb along the arch of her foot, feeling increasingly smug when she had to ask Liam to repeat himself.
But then he mentioned he'd like to meet her for lunch sometime this week. My hand came to cover the top of her foot, pressing it more firmly against me.
She smirked.
"You could spare her for a lunch break, couldn't you, Amy?" Liam asked with a cheerful smile, his arm resting over the back of Karma's chair. It took everything I had not to reach across the table and rip that arm from his body. "Actually we could double date; my sister is very interested in you"
"Really?" I asked curiously, a smug smile forming in my face. This could be interesting.
"Yes really, she did an internship in L'Oreal a couple of years ago" he said, a smirk on her face "You leave her quite impressed, she talks very highly of you"
I glanced back over to Karma when I felt the tendons in her foot tighten, and watched her swallow slowly as she waited for my answer. "If she looks like a model like you pretty boy, sure. Might make for a nice change of scenery"
She lifted the napkin from her lap and dabbed at her mouth "Excuse me, I need to use the ladies' room." She said and left in a hurry. I could swear she looked a little upset. Maybe jealous even?
Once she was in the house, the entire table scowled at me.
"Amy," Lauren hissed. "I thought we talked about this."
I grabbed my glass and brought it to my lips. "I don't know what you mean."
"Honey," my mother added, "I think you should go apologize."
"For what?" I asked, setting down my drink a little too roughly.
"Amy!" my sister said sharply, leaving no room for argument.
I tossed my napkin onto my plate and pushed away from the table. I stormed through the house, searching the bathrooms on the first two floors, until finally reaching the third floor, where the bathroom door was closed.
Standing outside, my hand resting on the knob, I debated with myself. If I went in there, what would happen? There was only one thing I was interested in, and it sure as hell wasn't apologizing. I thought about knocking but knew for a fact she wouldn't invite me in. I listened carefully, waiting for any noise or sign of movement from inside. Nothing. Finally, I turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked.
I'd only been in this bathroom a few times since my mother had remodeled it. It was a beautiful, modern room with a custom-built marble counter and a wide mirror covering one wall. Above the vanity table was a small window that overlooked the patio and grounds below. She was sitting on the padded bench in front of the table, staring out at the sky.
"Here to grovel?" she asked. She took the cap off her lipstick, which she carefully applied to her lips.
"I was sent to check on your delicate petal feelings." I reached behind me to turn the lock on the bathroom door, the audible click ringing in the silent room.
She laughed, meeting my eyes in the mirror. She looked completely composed, but I could see the rise and fall of her chest; she was every bit as worked up as I was.
"I assure you, I'm fine." She put the cap back on her lipstick and shoved it into her purse. She stood and started to move past me to the door. "I'm used to you being a bitch. But Liam seems nice. I should get back downstairs."
I put my hand on the door as I leaned closer to her face. "I don't think so." My lips lightly grazed under her ear, and she shuddered with the contact. "You see, he wants something that's mine, and he can't have it."
She glared at me. "What year is it? Two? Let me go. I am not yours."
"You might think that," I whispered, my lips ghosting along the column of her neck. "But your body," I said, running my hands under her skirt and pressing my hand against the damp lace between her legs, "thinks otherwise."
Her eyes closed and she let out a low moan as my fingers moved in slow circles against her clit. "Screw you."
"Let me," I said into her neck.
She let out a shaky laugh, and I pushed her against the bathroom door. Grabbing each of her hands, I raised them above her head, keeping them captive in my own and bending to kiss her. I felt her struggle weakly in my grip and I shook my head, tightening my hold.
"Let me," I repeated.
"Oh, God," she said as her head tilted to the side, allowing me access to her neck. "We can't do this here."
I ran my lips down and across her collarbone to her shoulder. Shifting both of her wrists into one hand, I reached down and slowly pulled one of the ribbons holding her top together, kissing along the newly exposed skin. Moving to the other side I repeated the action and was rewarded when the bodice slipped down to reveal a white lace strapless bra. Fuck. Did this woman own anything that didn't make me nearly come in my pants? I trailed my mouth down to her breasts while my free hand unfastened the clasp. There was no way I was missing the sight of her bare breasts this time. It opened easily and the lace fell away, revealing the vision that filled every one of my filthiest fantasies. As I took one pink nipple into my mouth, she moaned and her knees buckled slightly.
"Shhh," I whispered against her skin.
"More," she said. "Again."
I lifted her and she wrapped her legs around my waist, bringing our bodies together more firmly. I released her hands and she immediately brought them up to my hair and roughly pulled me closer. Fuck, I loved it when she did that. I pushed her against the door but then realized there were too many clothes in the way; I wanted to feel the heat of her skin against my own, wanted to bury my fingers inside her and keep her pinned to the wall until everyone had long since gone to bed.
The sound of laughter outside floated up through the open window, and I felt her tense against me. A long moment passed before her eyes met mine, and it was clear she was struggling with what to say.
"We shouldn't do this," she said finally, shaking her head. "He's waiting for me." She halfheartedly tried to push me away but I held my ground.
"Do you actually want him?" I asked, feeling a wave of possessiveness boil up inside me. She held my gaze but didn't answer.
I set her down and pulled her to the dressing table, stopping to stand just behind her. From where we stood, we had a perfect view of the patio below.
I pulled her bare back to my chest and brought my mouth to her ear. "Do you see him?" I asked, my hands sliding along her breasts. "Look at him." I skimmed my hands down her abdomen, along her skirt and to her thighs. "Does he make you feel like this?" My fingers floated up her thigh and underneath her panties. A low hiss escaped my mouth as I felt the wetness there and pushed inside. "Would he ever make you this wet?"
She groaned and pressed her hips back into me. "No . . ."
"Tell me what you want," I whispered against her shoulder.
"I—I don't know."
"Look at him," I said, my fingers moving in and out of her. "You know what you want."
"I want to you." "God, I'll always want you" she said almost breathless. I lifted her skirt and gripped her panties in my hands. "Rip them," she whispered.
I'd never been able to be this raw and primal with anyone before, and it felt so fucking right with her. I yanked hard and her flimsy panties tore easily. I tossed them to the floor, running my hands along her skin and sliding my fingers down her arms to her hands, and then finally to the place I wanted to be. Inside her, and she was so fucking ready for me as always.
I began to thrust in and out of her, forcing her to look out the window.
"Do you think he can make you feel this way?" I asked her roughly. My fingers thrusting harder and faster inside of her. I could feel how close she was.
I knew I was slipping. My walls were falling around me but I didn't care. I needed her to think of me tonight as she lay in bed. I wanted her to feel me when she closed her eyes and touched herself, remembering the way I'd fucked her. My free hand ran up her sides to her breast, cupping it and twisting her nipples.
"No," she moaned. "Never like this."
"Good" I groaned into her neck. "When you go downstairs, I want you to remember this. Remember what I did to you."Taking her hand in mine, I laced our fingers and moved them down her body to her clit, both our hands stroking and teasing.
"I'm the only one who can make you feel like this" I whispered seductively into her ear. She let out a muffled cry, the possible sound of my name, as her body tensed and then tightened all around my fingers. Her eyes closed and her lips relaxed into a satisfied sigh. I loved watching her climax, she looked even more beautiful afterwards and I was responsible for it. It made me happy. Content, even.
Slowly, she began to pull away, and I frowned at the loss of contact. I watched as she straightened her skirt, retrieved her bra, and attempted to retie the straps of her top. I grabbed the torn lace of her underwear, shoving it into my pocket. She was still struggling with her dress and I walked over, brushing her hands away and retying the straps without meeting her gaze.
The room was suddenly too small and we glanced at each other once in an uncomfortable silence. I reached for the knob, wanting to say something, anything, to fix this. How could I ask her to be only with me, and not expect anything else to change? Even I knew asking for that was likely to earn me a slap across the face. But the language for what I felt when I saw her with Liam wasn't crystallizing fast enough. My mind was blank. Frustrated, I opened the door. We both stopped short at the sight before us.
There, standing outside the doorway, arms folded and eyebrow raised knowingly, was Theo.