“It’s none of your fucking business,Matty.”
Admittedly, I take a bit more satisfaction watching his jaw clench together at the sound of his nickname than I should. Keeping my gaze trained on his face, I refuse to let it travel down to take in the way that shirt fits him perfectly or the way his arm muscles bulge through the sleeves. Will not trace his tattoos that enhance those same arms either, admire the way the veins and tendons line his deep brown flesh. And I definitely won’t be dropping my gaze farther to check out how well his pants fit his body, the way there’s probably a bulge in the crotch because his dick is so fucking massive, it can’t be hidden, or the way his tight ass is probably hugged perfectly by the material.
Nope, my eyes will stay locked with his because that is the only safe option.
His gaze drops from mine, though, to my neck, looking at what can only be the not quite faded bruise he left there while he was buried deep inside me the other night. Everything comes rushing back in this moment, feeling his heavy stare on my marred skin.
I feel the way his hands felt on my body. Tight on my hips, around my throat, in my hair.
I feel the salacious way his massive cock moved inside me, dragging along each and every nerve ending, setting my blood ablaze. Every stretch, every burn, every potent shot of pleasure.
I even feel his hot breath fan my overheated, sweat-slick skin.
I feel it all. Every last unforgettable sensation. My pulse races in his proximity, and the way he’s now watching me, you’d think he could read my mind. I hate this. Hate what he does to me, how he makes me feel, how my body can’t seem to get on the same page as my mind.
My skin is crawling. I gotta get out of here. “As fun as this is, we have to go,” I blurt out, sneering at Mateo.
“Uh, we do?” Xander looks and sounds confused. I throw him a look that I hope saysjust fucking go with it, but I don’t think it comes across clearly.
“Yes. Bye,Matty.”
The universe must be at least a little bit on my side because the whole way back to my house, Xander doesn’t say anything. He must be able to sense the turmoil bubbling over inside me. We already had plans to hang out at my place, and I’ve behaved weirdly enough for one day, so I’m not about to cancel our plans. Then Xander will really force me into spilling my guts.
And I’m nowhere near ready for that. He would never judge me—we’ve all made stupid choices—but I don’t know… I think a major part of me knows it’ll probably happen again, and I’m not ready to admit my fault like that.
Once inside my apartment, I turn on some music while Xander rolls a blunt. He’s a fucking pro, and he’s lighting it up a few minutes later.Holding Me Downby Picturesque bumps through the speakers in my living room as he passes it to me. Placing the grape-flavored wrap between my lips, I inhale slowly, letting the smoke dance down my throat, expanding my lungs. My head feels light and fuzzy by the time I exhale through my nose.
We both sit kicked back on opposite sides of my small couch, passing the blunt back and forth as the room fills with clouds of smoke and music. The tension is growing thicker. I’m not even surprised when Xander finally breaks the silence.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, and the marks on your neck may not even be from him, but if they are, please be careful.”
I glance over at him but don’t say anything. My throat’s thick with emotion I’m not prepared to feel.
He scrubs a hand down his face, blowing out the smoke from his hit. “You deserve more than to wind up with just another Nathaniel. Yeah, Mateo is hot, but he’s clearly a fucking asshole. I don’t want to see you end up hurt all over again. You haven’t even given yourself a chance to get over what you lost with Nathaniel.”
“Thanks,” I breathe. “I’ll be okay. I know exactly who he is, and he’s not somebody I want to be with, so no worries there.”
It’s the truth. He isn’t somebody I want to be with. Yes, I’m sexually attracted to him, but it’s nothing more than that.
It can’t be. That’s a disaster and a heartbreak waiting to happen.
“He was staring at you the entire time,” he says, barely above a whisper. “You know that?”
“He was not,” I scoff.
“Oh, yes, he was.” Xan laughs. “Couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’s trouble, man. Please be careful.”
“I said there’s nothing to worry about, Xander,” I insist. “I mean it.”
Holding his hands up innocently, he says, “Okay, okay.”
Xander kicks it for about another half an hour before one of his co-workers picks him up. They’re all going out for one of their birthdays. We smoked another blunt before he leaves, so now I’m nice and toasty.
Getting dressed in pajama pants after taking the world’s hottest and longest shower, I amble out into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of spicy Dorito’s and a couple of bottles of water before parking my ass in front of the TV. Putting on another episode of Shameless, I pull my phone out, not even paying attention to the show as I scroll aimlessly through social media.
A hard knock on the front door pulls my attention, my eyes lifting to glance at the time.That’s weird. Xander must’ve forgotten something.
Raising off the couch, I cross the room, pulling open the door to come face to face with… not Xander.
