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I look over at him with a massive smile on my face. "Really?"
His face lights up like I've never seen. Come to think of it, this might be the first time I've seen him smile, and my god, is he handsome.
"It wasn't a question, so yes, you're staying at my place tomorrow night."
And just like that, I'm ready to go home because tomorrow can't come soon enough.
August
Seventeen
Yesterdaywasatotalmind fuck! When I saw her with the motorcycle guy at lunch, I almost lost it. I needed to get her alone and talk to her. When I decided to take her back to my place, I by no means thought the night would play out as it did. I had no idea I would have the most mind-blowing sex of my life with the sexiest woman I have ever seen.
Our bodies were so in sync. The lust, longing, and desperate need to make her mine were irrepressible. I played her body like an instrument. She was so in tune with me, so responsive, it was as if my touch was her vice.
When I sunk into her sweet heat for the first time, her pussy molded around my cock like it was made for me, sucking me into her tight as fuck core. I couldn't help but look down and watch my bare cock push through her swollen lips. I was a goner after that. Everything about her was hypnotic. Then to find out she was a fucking virgin and I'm the only one who's ever been inside her was a game-changer. I was already hooked, but now she owns me.
Finding out I was her first, and only partner wrecked me. If she thought I was a possessive prick before, wait until she meets the territorial, overprotective, controlling dick that I morphed into only seconds after taking her.
When Ethan and Grant showed up right as we were coming down from our release, I was enraged. They never pop by like that during the week. Grant's a med student, so his course work has him tied up with a book most nights, so I found last night's visit even more peculiar. While we just finished the semester, Grant still has boards and a summer full of excelled residency.
I'm almost positive Ethan is why Carson showed up Saturday night at a bar we've never been to, on the side of town she would never dare visit.
What I haven't pieced together is why Carson came home early and didn't tell me, or how Ethan knew. But I have no doubt her appearance was his doing.
My theory of his involvement was cemented when I saw his reaction to Gigi last night. He acted like she was one of Carson's friends when he knew damn well who she was, considering he wanted her for himself at the club. Perhaps Ethan brought Carson as a reminder that I still technically had a girlfriend. But that doesn't change the fact that he's covering something up. Why pretend as if he didn't know Gigi?
Grant acted indifferent to the entire situation, so I'm not sure if he's in on whatever this is or simply an unsuspecting accomplice. I know I have something Ethan wants but what surprises me is that he's willing to sabotage our friendship to take what I've already claimed is mine. Friendships, relationships even marriages are fickle things where I come from.
Everyone is usually in one for some sort of gain. Ethan's family is considered nouveau riche, whereas my family has maintained its good name and wealth over generations solidifying our social affluence. Typically, new money will try to mix with old money to be accepted in established social circles, and that's what Ethan's family did with my uncle Eduard.
Eduard married my dad's sister. He doesn't come from money, so I think he found a kindred spirit of sorts in Robert, Ethan's dad. The two became fast friends. That's how I met Ethan. While we went to the same school, we didn't hang in the same circles until Eduard started inviting them out for golf with my dad and me. I've always liked Ethan, but I know no one is as they seem in my world. Someone always has an ulterior motive, and I think I'm about to learn Ethan's.
Maybe I'm wrong, and he thought I wasn't that serious about Gigi. I had just told them that I was done with her. None of that matters anymore now. I know why I never made a move. It was because I was waiting for Gianna. No one caught my eye because they weren't her.
At the end of the day, something's going on, I can feel it, and my instincts are never wrong. What these assholes don't seem to understand is that I'm not fucking around when it comes to her, and I'll watch everything burn if that means she's mine. No one will take her from me.
I'mlatetoworktoday. I fully intended on getting in on time, bringing my girl her coffee and a scone, but I let my thoughts run away with me this morning. Then I spent more time than necessary making sure my outfit accentuated my features. I want Gianna to be salivating when she sees me. I want her to want me. Last night she told me as much, but I can't help but feel she's not sold on being mine.
Today I'm wearing my light grey Bonobos suit with a white oxford underneath and my black lace-up Louboutin's. I want her panties wet from just looking at me. The problem is she typically fights me for no good reason unless I'm touching her. Once my hands are on her, she submits. I'm hoping if I look hot enough, we can skip the banter and just be.
When I walk through the doors of Reds, I head straight back to her office. She doesn't really have an office per se. More like she has a workroom where she makes up samples and a display room where they are kept once they have been made. The mockups are used in all departments for various purposes, but her job is to create, maintain and ship them.
I smell her before I see her. She smells like warm vanilla and coconuts. Today she not only smells like summer, but she looks like it too. Silently I stand in the doorway and watch her work while she's unaware of my presence. She's wearing a high-waisted tight black skirt that hits right above the knee, black Espadrille wedges that elongate her sexy as sin legs, and a fitted long sleeve yellow top. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail with soft curls spilling down her back. She is effortlessly breathtaking.
Knowing I need to pull myself out of my thoughts, I clear my throat to announce my presence. That startles her. She throws her hand over her chest in mock horror, and I can't help but smile.
"August, my god, you scared me."
If my smile could get any bigger, it did. I love the way my name sounds leaving her lips, especially when it's all breathy like it was just now. I stalk towards her to deliver her coffee and steal a kiss, but before I make it over, she slides around the work island, essentially putting it between us.
Setting down the coffee, I raise a brow in question before saying, "Is something wrong?"
Her eyes widen, and her posture stiffens before she glances behind me. She's acting like a child that just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Then, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, she heads into the adjacent room. Soundlessly, I follow her, and she closes the door behind us, locking us in. If it weren't for the concerned look on her face, I would be immensely turned on right now.
"I need to talk to you about something, but I want you to promise you'll hear me out and not get mad."
Since when does a sentence starting like that ever bode well for anyone?
