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“What?” she asks, her hand moving to cup my jaw. “What’s going on?”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, to ignore the pain. I know I’m going to have to say something to her; she deserves to know that I was going to ask her for a date, that I wanted to taste her. She deserves to know that she almost got me on my knees. “It’s just, I... I really have to go. Right now.”
“Why?” she asks, her beautiful eyes looking up at me in confusion.
Her gaze softens, and she twists the edge of her towel between her fingers. I hate that I’ve made her feel this way, uncertain, lost. I’m an asshole but if I don’t get out of here right now, she’ll never forgive me for what happens next.
“I’ll see you at work, Angelica. I’m sorry. Enjoy your pizza, don’t let it go cold.”
And with that, I turn and walk as fast as I can out of there. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I need to get back to my flat as quickly as possible.
I can hear her calling my name behind me, but I ignore it. I fly down the corridor and up the stairs of our apartment block, racing to my floor as quickly as I can. My body is wracked with so much pain I’m just going through the motions, trying to put as much distance between myself and her place as possible.
Tonight was a really bad idea. From the day drinking, to sneaking into her house, the kiss, the pizza…all of it.
I groan loudly, causing two passers by on the stairwell to gawk at me. I knew Angelica and her damn cheese obsession would be the death of me. If I ever needed a sign that we aren’t meant to be together, this is it.
The girl loves cheese and I’m lactose intolerant. Our love story would be even more doomed than Romeo and Juliet.
ChapterThree
Angelica
Itry to convince myself I won’t be losing any sleep over Lycus’ sudden appearance and even more abrupt disappearance from my flat, but of course the biggest lies we tell are the ones we tell ourselves. I groan loudly, pushing my favourite cheesy pizza away, unable to even enjoy it.
My mind races with thoughts of Lycus: his stormy eyes, his chiselled jawline, and that crooked smile that made my knees weak. I can’t shake the feeling that there was more to his visit than he let on.
Maybe he was trying to make amends for what happened between us, or maybe he was just passing my flat and saw the delivery guy and thought he’d drop by. Fuck knows. Maybe he broke in.
Maybe it was deliberate. He sought me out with the intention of seducing me and then stealing my designs for the Alpine account, because I don’t keep them in my office at work.
Either way, the way he departed so abruptly left a bad taste in my mouth.
I take a swig of my red wine – the perfect evening accompaniment to cheese, even if itischeesy pizza – feeling the alcohol warm my insides and calm my nerves.
I know I should just forget about Lycus and move on, but there’s something about the way he was tonight that keeps drawing my thoughts back to him.
Perhaps it’s the way he didn’t seem cocky or arrogant, but genuinely interested in me, or it could just be the thrill of the chase. Either way, he made me feel more alive and turned on than I have in months.
Draining the last of my wine, I give up all pretences of a normal evening and decide to just get an early night. But I toss and turn in bed, unable to shake the image of Lycus out of my head.
Maybe it’s the wine, but my mind can’t help but wander to the possibility of what might have happened if he stayed a little longer. Would things have escalated?
The thought alone sends a shiver down my spine, and my core aches with desire and unfinished business. I try to push it aside, to focus on something else, but it’s no use. I need a release, and I need it now.
With a sigh, I reach into the drawer in my bedside table and pull out my favourite toy. This thing is the dog’s bollocks, and although I didn’t take the ad account – too embarrassed in my early years at the agency to work on a sex toy – I did steal one of the samples they left for us and have never looked back since.
All my other vibrators are in a discarded box under my bed, neglected like the broken, unwanted playthings in that kids’ film ‘Toy Story’. Buzz Lightyear stole the show and Woody’s top spot as Andy’s favourite, just like the ‘Satisfaction Supernova’ eclipsed all the other playthings inmytoybox.
I turn it on, feeling the familiar buzz against my fingertips and giving it a minute to warm up before I bring it down between my legs. It’s not the same as having a real man there with me, touching me, but it’s enough to push away the thoughts of Lycus for now.
I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the sensations, the pleasure building with every touch of the toy against my sensitive clit, as it cycles between intense heat and ice cold vibrations. I can’t stop my moan of pleasure as my body responds, my hips bucking, desperate to feel myself wrapped around something real.
I open my eyes and look down, watching the toy as it glides over my clit, the sight almost as good as the feeling. I stop, taking the toy away from my clit and holding it at my opening. I’m so wet, so ready for it, that it slides inside with ease.
The vibrations feel amazing against my walls, and my hips rock back and forth, desperate to feel that spark of pleasure that will send me over the edge. I turn on the Supernova’s third function, and the toy’s thrusting, rotating mechanism comes to life within me.
“Ah,” I cry out in pleasure as the toy hits my sweet spot and I lean my head back, panting and moaning, climbing closer and closer to the edge.
