He takes another step forward, and fuck me, I'm going to like this game.
I slip out of his reach and use the couch as a barrier between us.
His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, and his blue eyes cloud over as if he were drunk.
Except it's me he's drunk on, and it's a knife in my gut. One I continue to twist.
I sink my teeth into my lower lip.
He rounds the corner, and I backpedal, turn, and run.
But Mateo, he's a storm chaser, and I'm the storm.
"Enjoy this game now, Storm Cloud, because a few weeks from now you won't be able to get away so easily."
My heart races, anticipation of what is yet to come, but my brain short circuits. A few weeks? That's feelings territory. I grip the doorframe to Mateo's bedroom and dare to look over my shoulder.
Mateo stalks toward me, pulling his T-shirt over his head as he gets closer. My brain blanks. It's me and him, and every last thing he wants to do to me. Forget any noes I may have had before him. They no longer exist. This alpha exchange we seem to fall naturally into is surreal.
"You've been teasing me all night," he says, licking his lips.
"Teasing you how?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"With this," he says, reaching for me. He brushes my hair over one shoulder and traces my bare spine with his finger.
"This top is torture. I've been thinking about bending you over all night."
I've never loved a shirt more. Turning, I take a step into the bedroom.
Mateo pulls at the single knot in the middle of my back, and I freeze.
The warmth of his body close to mine silences my inner brat.
He kisses my neck, lingering as he pushes my top off my shoulders. Deft fingers undo the clasp of my bra, and both it and the shirt fall to my feet. His tongue follows the trail of his earlier fingers, and my breath catches in my throat.
"I've dreamt of this," he says, his voice emitting vibrations up my spine. "Of you," he adds.
My body stiffens at his confession, but then his bare chest is against my back as he undoes my jeans and slides my zipper down.
"Here's what's going to happen," he says, his lips brushing my ear. "I'm going to bend you over that bed, and then I'm going to make you come so hard, you leave a puddle on the floor."
My pussy clenches at his words.
He slides a hand around my throat, forcing my head back and pushes his other hand into my pants.
"Mmm, how long have these panties been soaked, Storm Cloud?"
I don't answer him, afraid of what I might say if I do.
He pushes my panties to the side and swipes a finger through my wetness. When he removes his hand from my pants, I cry out at the loss. But then he lifts his hand past my face, and the sound of him sucking his finger has me ready to beg.
Luckily, he doesn't make me.
His hand disappears from around my neck, and he drags my jeans past my hips.
"Someday, I'm going to pull those down and drag my tongue along with it," he says and then the heat of his body is gone.
I whip around, ready to give him the verbal lashing he deserves if his plan is to get me into the state I'm in only to walk away.
