Dear Alana (Interracial Romance)

Chapter Fourteen; Love and War

Chapter Fourteen; Love and War

Hayden emerged from the bathroom's doorway, his tattooed chest exposed to her watching eyes. He wore sweatpants that hung low on his waist, but nothing more.

Once seeing her, he paused and analyzed her character. She was fit to leave. Still in her dress from earlier, shoes on, her phone in one hand, and money in the other. While his eyes scanned her from head to toe, Alana struggled for words. Her lips parted, then shut again when he began to walk past her.

Then, just before the grand stairs, he stopped and slightly turned his body. Muscles rippled throughout his back, as his low slit eyes found her. With a nod of his head, he beckoned her to follow him into his room.

"No."

As much as her body, her heart, wanted to follow after Hayden, her soul and her mind was tired of the chase. She'd chased after Hayden the entire time she'd spent with him, trying to fit his requirements, be the girl he would never admit he needed in his life. That time, however, had expired.

He turned, amusement ran over his features. He found her reluctant refusal somewhat comical.

"No, Alana?" He challenged, while his hands touched his chest, and trailed down to his v-cut. His hands rested there, at the brim of his sweatpants. Her eyes on his hands, his eyes on her face. "No?" He tested once more.

She thought she'd overcome the feeling Hayden had cast upon her, that nervousness, but it, along with a heated pleasure was surfacing all over her body. She shivered as he walked to her, then laid one hand onto her lower back once he was close enough. With that hand, he pressed her body to his.

His lips hovered over hers, but he didn't kiss her, and she didn't press for it. Instead, she lowered her head and placed a hand on his chest, pushing off from him gently, with no real force at all.

"I'm leaving." She managed only a low whisper, against his firm, set body.

"Mmhm."

Alana was weak in the moment, but conscious nonetheless.

He was clearly implying, with that low hum of sarcasm, that she wasn't truly going anywhere anymore, and that she would spend her time with him now, but she couldn't miss this opportunity. Not this time. Not for Hayden, who was unwilling to tell her what was going on, on his own.

"No really, Hayden." Now her push from him was a tad bit more forced, but still not completely resistant.

"Stop fighting me, Alana." There were no words to describe the tone he possessed while speaking those words. It wasn't a plea, though not exactly a threat. Not completely emotional, nor completely casual.

Elaine's grinning face flashed before Alana's eyes, and this time when she pushed from Hayden's grip, it was enough force to be set her free from his grip.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes returned to their low slits.

"You stop fighting me." She hissed. "Stop pushing me away, and then running back to me when Elaine's nowhere to be found." When she spoke again, her face displayed sadness, her tone exhibiting the same sadness. ". . . Why are you playin' me, Hayden? Running back and forth between me and Elaine. . ." Then a low whisper. "You can't even . . . kiss me, but you're having sex her in your bedroom after long nights at the club."

His face was without emotion, his tight jaw had lost it's tightness long before her words came pouring out with sadness.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He said, calmly.

"She said it herself!" Now her voice was a forced, low screech. She struggled to keep from disturbing Crystal and/or waking Marie. "I may have been quiet that day, but I am otherwise very observant, and she stood right in front of you and reminded you of how she'd taken your clothes off. You didn't deny then, don't deny now."