Ice Cold

22

TRIGGER WARNING: brief mention of suicide

Wren Ridley

His rough hands moved up and down my soft skin, up my back then down to my waist, the sensation burning and sparking something within me. He gripped my waist tightly, pulling me closer so that our stomachs pressed together as his mouth laid open over the skin of my neck, biting and sucking.

I threw my head back, exposing more of my neck to him, and let out a long groan of pleasure.

He was relentless, moving his mouth up my neck, to the center of my throat, and up my jaw. One hand left my waist to grab onto the side of my throat, squeezing lightly. He brought his rough fingers on his other hand down to my hip, then to the side of my leg dangerously close to my back side.

I hissed when he bit down harshly on the skin between my shoulder and neck.

"F... fuck," I cursed, running my hand through my hair.

"You like that don't you?" he asked against my skin, his low voice rumbling.

He bit down on the skin again, then moved his tongue over it.

"Shit... yeah," I responded, letting out a shuddered breath.

He moved his lips up my jaw, but never meeting my mouth. I moved, trying to connect our lips, but he held my head in place.

He shook his head.

"Not yet."

I groaned.

"Say you want me to ruin you," he demanded.

"I want... I want you to ruin me."

He chuckled and continued on my neck. He brought his hand down my stomach, to my front.

"Landon," I moaned. "Landon."

He looked at me with a grin, his face so close I thought our lips would touch. He leaned in.

Just as our lips were about to touch, my eyes shot open and I sat up in my empty bed.

"What the actual fuck," I muttered, placing my hand on my head.

It had really gotten to the point where I started dreaming about this guy. I hadn't even spoken to him since he got out of my car the other night, yet he was occupying my mind like he was a phantom haunting me.

"Did you just have a sex dream?" James asked with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head.

"No."

"Who were you dreaming about?" he pushed further. "You can tell me if it was me."

"It was absolutely not."

"That wasn't convincing," James teased. "It's okay. You can have the real thing anytime you want."

"You just want to have sex with me so you stop thinking about Anthony so much," I shot back. It was true even if he refused to admit it.

James set his mouth in a straight line, any teasing gone from his expression. Anytime Anthony was brought up, it hit a sore spot for James and that was exactly what I wanted at that moment.