Travis looks at me from across the room, his pacing halted, an expression on his face I can’t quite read. “I fed her before we left the house, so she’s good for now. But thank you.”
Nodding and setting the bottle on the counter, I amble across the space into my bedroom. This entire situation could use some weed, and I’ll bet he won’t turnthatdown. I know he smokes. There was a bong on the coffee table when I came over to fuck Nathaniel, and he told me it wasn’t his. Figured he had a roommate. I grab the red-and-black box off my dresser. It’s ugly as sin, but it belonged to my grandma before she died.
After plucking out one of the Js I rolled this morning and a lighter, I make my way back out to the living room. His eyes—pale blue and narrowed—track my every move until I’m right in front of him. With the joint between my teeth, I flick the striker until the flame ignites, holding it on the end of the rolling paper until it glows red.
The earthy, sweet taste of marijuana sits heavy on my taste buds as I take a couple of hits, holding it out for him. “Want some?” Exhaling the smoke, I can’t help the grin that forms on my lips. Hewantsit, but he also wants to sayno. An internal war with himself I love to see. “Come on,cariño. It’s just some weed. It’ll help you relax, so you’re not such a buzzkill.”
His grimace deepens as he takes it from me. The black polish on his nails is chipped and worn, his cuticles picked at. Taking a hit, his nostrils flare, accentuating the black hoop in his left one. It’s fucking hot.He’shot, and as his pale pink lips purse around the filter, a sudden image of how he’d look with those same lips wrapped around my cock flashes in my mind.
Shit,he’d look fucking pretty like that.
We pass the weed back and forth for a while until it’s almost gone, nothing on my mind except that thought. It’ll probably be somewhat of a challenge at first. He thinks he hates me after all, but hate sex is always the best, isn’t it? Taking one more hit, I stroll into the kitchen, putting the joint out and throwing it away, before grabbing my beer off the counter.
I plop down on the couch, my gaze sizing him up. “You need to relax, man.”
He glares at me, the blue of his irises now accompanied by red as the effects of the weed become evident. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do,man.” He mocks the last word, and I can’t help but chuckle.
Standing to my full height—which truthfully, isn’tmuchtaller than him, but I have a couple of inches on him—I step closer, hand wrapping around his throat as I push him until his back hits my wall. The air is knocked out of him, and I feel his Adam’s apple bob as he tries to swallow beneath the constriction. I’m walking a dangerous line right now. He could decide to deck me in the face. But if I’m right—which I think I am—he wants this. Even if he doesn’twantto want it.
With my grin wide, I decide to test my luck. Channeling all my frustration from the call last night into this, I bring my mouth right by his ear, feeling a shiver rack through him. Keeping my voice low, I ask, “But what if I want to tell you what to do, baby?” Goosebumps erect over the flesh on his neck as I continue. “Want to know what I think? Don’t worry, I’ll tell you,” I taunt. “I think youneedsomeone to tell you what to do. I think youcraveit, giving up control.”
Pulling back, but not removing my hand from his throat, I run my gaze over his face. There’s a faint pink splashed on his cheeks and his bloodshot eyes are heavy. Once again, his hands come to my chest, shoving me away, but this time, I’m prepared for it. I don’t move.
“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, asshole,” he snarls.
A smirk pulls on my lips before I run my tongue along the bottom, relishing the way his eyes track the movement. “It’s no wonder your man cheated on you,” I growl, taunting him. Begging him to take the bait. “You’re fucking bitter and boring.”
His eyes narrow, lips parting like he wants to give me a rebuttal, but he remains quiet.
“Maybe if you let yourself have some fun, you’d feel better.” Stepping back, I shamelessly drag my gaze down his body before meeting his eyes once more. An idea forms in my mind. It’s crazy, but again, we’re trapped, so why not? “Let me make you come,cariño. Bet you’d be in a better mood.”
This time when he shoves me, I let him. The thrill pulsing inside me at his fury is undeniable. My dick’s already so hard inside my pants, and we’ve barely gotten started.
“I’m not boring or bitter,” he barks, stepping closer to me, a finger shoved toward my face. “You’re just a fucking asshole who doesn’t understand boundaries.” When I say nothing back, simply smiling, he continues. “And you’re not even that attractive. I doubt you’d be able to satisfy me, anyway. Guys like you are always selfish.”
There’s so much I could say, but I don’t. Instead, I just reply with, “Prove it.”
He swallows hard. “W-what?”
“Let’s prove how much Ican’tsatisfy you, Travis.” I push my hands into my jeans pockets as he stands there looking wildly uncomfortable. “Let’s see if you’re right. You aren’t,” I add. “But we can humor you for the sake of being fair.”
He shuffles anxiously on the heels of his feet, the entire space quiet save for the ticking arm on the analog clock behind him. “How would we do that?”
Watching his blue eyes dilate, I know I’ve got him. I know I’m not crossing a line—well, Iam, but it’s at least one hewantsme to cross. So, I continue. “Let me make you feel good.”Come on, cariño. Give in. Give it to me.
His brows pinch together. “That’s all?”
“That’s all,” I repeat. “Butwe play by my rules. This is my house, my bet. We do things my way, got it? But if I’m right, and you enjoy yourself, you have to let me take you out sometime.”
“Like a date?” he balks, eyes going wide and round. “Why would I do that?” He crosses his arms over his chest, but the temptation is clear as day in his eyes.
“Why not? Are you scared?” I taunt as I reach down and adjust myself, his gaze zeroing in on it.
“I’m not fucking scared.”
Stalking toward him, I back him into the wall once again, my hands not touching him. “Prove it, then,cariño.Prove how not scared you are.” Our faces are mere inches from each other, his breath fanning my lips, chest rising and falling in rapid succession. I know if I touched his chest, his heart would be pounding beneath the surface. “Submit. To. Me.” The words come out as a thunderous growl, snapping his resolve as his lips crash against mine.
15
