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“No. That’s all right.”
I face the mirror straight on, pretending like I don’t hear my heart thundering in my ears.
“It wasn’t up for discussion, Zo. Tomorrow morning, we’re going on a little NYC tour. You and me.”
“No.” Her voice echoes through the room, resolute and piercing like the blade of a knife.
“Why?” As my eyes meet hers in the mirror, I'm slightly taken aback when I realize she's staring back at me. However, her gaze quickly shifts to my neck, and that's when I notice the massive hickey.
“You don’t like me, and you don’t need to start now because you feel sorry for me.”
She is entitled to her own thoughts, even though they couldn't be further from the truth. I turn my body toward her and look down, but she deliberately avoids making eye contact. It is at that precise moment, mustering all of my bravery, that I extend my hand and delicately place my finger under her chin, directing her gaze toward mine.
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m not offering because I feel sorry for you or because I feel the need to.”
I lean down, eye level with her. She stares between my two irises, not knowing which one she wants to settle on.
“I’m doing it because I want to. I want to be the one to show you around New York City, to welcome you home.” Her lips part and her eyes dilate. The way her body reacts to me drives me to oblivion, as if some part of her recognizes me. The connection we have always fought but share so deeply.
I can’t help but stare down at her full, red lips, wanting to feel them in between my own, remembering how soft they feel.
As the elevator dings, seconds stretch into what feels like hours, compelling me to instinctively retreat a step while the doors gradually slide open.
“Hot date?” she breathes, staring at my neck once again before she starts to walk out.
“What?”
“Never mind. Good night!”
Glancing at the floor number, I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle a laugh.
“Hey, Zo,” I call after her, and she turns ever so slowly.
“Hmm?”
Extending my arm against the closing elevator door, I hold it open, expecting her to catch on, but she simply remains motionless, arms crossed, staring back at me.
Am I sensing a bit of jealousy?
“This isn’t your floor; it’s mine.”
She glances around and mutters a curse under her breath before hastily returning inside the elevator. Choosing the farthest corner away from me, she seems to avoid any contact. Maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as she wants to.
“Enjoy your ice cream. And I’ll be seeing you soon,” I utter, walking backward and keeping my eyes glued on her. She finally looks up, her cheeks red and eyes filled with something that looks very similar to desire, just as the elevator doors close shut.
CHAPTER 21
ZOE
Strong hands grip my hair tightly as they force me down, turning me onto my back. Staring up at the tall, dark figure, I lie there panting for breath, feeling his cum dripping down my thighs. My clit is deliciously swollen, and the beads are still inside me as my body continues to tingle, remembering the way he gripped me while stretching me from behind.
I don’t even remember what round we’re on.
“Such a beautiful sight. You’re wet and covered in my cum, yet still so needy for me.”
I’m trembling, sore, and satiated, but I can’t deny that I want more of him. I can’t get enough. Desiring to delve into so much of who he is, to understand his mind and influence him in a way he’ll never forget. To memorize every touch, bite, and kiss I have with him.
