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“Of course you’d like that,” He says, desire darkening his eyes as he catches me moistening my lips. “”You’re so desperate to fuck me, you fall apart every time I touch you. I bet I could make you come right now just by licking, kissing and biting your neck.”
With the way my body temperature shoots up at his words, I think he could make me come just by narrating how he’d abuse my neck.
Carter. Remember Carter.
Why is it that recently, I’ve almost had to force myself to think of him?
It’s like the thoughts of him, of us together, are getting further and further away from me.
“You’re the one that should be careful you don’t fall in love with me given the way you’re so obsessively after me.” I tell him.
“Never going to happen.” He grunts out, bluntly.
I shoot him a wounded look, stung.
It doesn’t feel great to hear him say that so casually, like it’d be the hardest thing in the world to fall in love with me.
I realize it's a ridiculous thing for me to get my feelings hurt over given that I’m the one in a relationship, but that doesn’t do anything to lessen the blow.
I’m being irrational and I don’t give a shit.
I abruptly stand up, annoyed at him.
Annoyed at myself for allowing this surreal moment to make me lower my guard around him.
“We’re in here!” I yell at the top of my lungs towards the clanging noises on the other side of the elevator doors.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure? Because you just screamed like a banshee at those firefighters.”
“I’m trying to get us out. You should be happy, you’ll be far from me and back with the people you love in just a few moments.” I say, with added emphasis on the word ‘love’.
???
15
Rhys
A slow smile spreads across my face as understanding dawns.
“Are you upset because I said falling in love with you was never going to happen?”
Anger electrifies her silver hair, making her look radiant.
“Don’t think for a second that I care about that.” She spits out, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares me down. “It’s the principle. It’s rude as fuck to say that, you make it sound as if I’m unlovable.”
“Thayer.”
She turns back towards the door. “I need to get out of here.”
“Thayer.” I warn.
“Help!Aidez-moi, please.” She attempts, in less than mediocre French.
I ignore the warmth that spreads in my belly at the thought that she’s this upset about me theoretically loving her or not.
