You dumb bitch. Really?
He freezes. Then slowly—so fucking slowly—his head turns toward me. Those blue eyes go darker, hungrier.
“I’m not stopping you,” he says, low and dangerous, like he’s not entirely kidding.
“Don’t say shit like that unless youmeanit,” I bite out, my whole body buzzing, as my heart hammers against my chest. “Because I swear to God, if you push me to the edge again and back away, Iwillfind someone else to fuck me out of my misery.”
He just smirks like the smug asshole he is.
“There’s not a chance in hell I’d let anyone else touch you,” he says, sitting up. “And if you think I don’t want to bury myself inside you right now and make you forget everyone you’ve ever been with, you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”
I inhale sharply, thighs squeezing together again. “Then why haven’t you?” I demand, breathless. “If you want me that badly, why do you keep stopping?”
He reaches for me, slowly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Because the second I’m inside you,” he murmurs, “I’m not going to be able to stop.”
My stomach grumblesat the worst possible time. Great. Now I’m starving on top of being horny andemotionally wrecked—the trifecta of unhinged womanhood.
I sigh dramatically, peel myself off the bed, and toss the blanket on the floor.
I walk down the hall toward the stairs, my bare feet quiet on the hardwood. I’m mindlessly scrolling on my phone when a sound breaks the silence.
Low, deep, and unmistakable.
A moan.
My pulse spikes instantly, and heat creeps up the back of my neck. Curiosity hits hard. I know I shouldn’t move toward it. I know I should turn around, grab a granola bar, or do literally anything else. Being nosy is going to be the death of me, but I can’t fucking help it.
Each step draws me closer to the source, toward Carter’s bedroom, toward the half-cracked bathroom door that’s practically begging me to look. The steady rush of the shower fills the air, and steam curls out into the hallway in thick, lazy tendrils. The scent of cedar and pine is rich and heavy, wrapping around me like warm arms.
“Fuck, baby. Open your pretty little mouth for me.”
I slap my hand over my mouth so fast it’s embarrassing, stifling the gasp that shoots out of me like a firecracker. My knees hit the floor before I even think about it, inching closer, pulled forward by pure curiosity, and okay, maybe because I’m desperate.
The steam is thick enough to blur everything, but not enough to hide the sounds. Not enough to stop the picture forming behind my eyelids—Carter under the spray, water cascading down his inked body, his hand wrapped around his cock, and his head thrown back.
He’s not just jerking off, he’s doing it tome.
“Take my cock down your throat, princess,” he groans, “take it like a good girl.”
A broken, feral sound tears from his chest, and I nearly fucking come right there on the goddamn floor. My panties are soaked, my thighs are clenching so tight it hurts, my mouth is dry, my skin flushed, and my pussy is pulsing in betrayal because all I’ve gotten lately is tension, teasing, and one very inconvenient kiss that tasted like a dream.
Now I’m here, crawling on his hardwood floor like some depraved little slut while he jerks off to the thought of me choking on his cock.
Godddddd.
I press my hand tighter over my mouth, trying to stay silent, but my body’s already trembling. I can still feel the ghost of his mouth between my legs, the way he sucked my clit like he was starved. I can still taste his groan from last night, the one he gave me when he kissed me like hemeantit.
I start to crawl closer, edging toward the steam like the filthy little whore I am, ready to burn my life down for a glimpse of his soaked, swollen co-
My phone explodes to life.
“I’m a Barbie Girl” blasts through his bedroom at full volume.
FUCK.
Layla you bitch, you just HAD to call me.
“Oh my fucking God!” I scream whisper.
