Feel Me

Chapter Ten

Lydia hissed scornfully at the sight of Martin waiting at the end of the street, two blocks away from her house.

He saw her and covered the distance between them with quick log strides. “You are the most infuriating woman I have been the most unfortunate to meet.”

Lydia walked past him, feeling him follow behind her. “Look at the pot calling the kettle black! No one asked for your encounter; in case you didn’t notice. I made my displeasure very clear from the beginning.” She turned to him and glared angrily at him. “Just because you held my hand you think you have me. Own me! Can you just imagine?” Her eyes gleamed with anger. “Your ‘possessiveness’ is truly amusing, Vikram.” She said, livid scorn dripped like venom from her voice.

Some of Martin’s anger dispersed at the string of curses flying from her mouth, and the sight of her righteous march to the house. The short white dress curved sweetly around her hips swished angrily as she walked. He followed, blocking the door with his foot and pushed it aside easily even as she struggled to slam it on him.

Inside the house, Martin stood watching Lydia with growing irritation. “Your behavior is conservative even in this era. Stop acting like a judgmental bitch. Like a stuck-up virgin.”

“Ehen? And so what? At least virgins are respected.” she retorted. “I’m not the one who gets turned on by a mere footsie and a touch.”

“I believe you told me that yesterday.” He noted. “And you blushed, admit it. You liked it every bit as I did.”

“I don’t blush in case you haven’t notice my complexion, di anyi.” She scoffed, “Fuck off, Vikram.”

“My God, you’re really impossible. You won’t let me say your native name yet you call me by mine.” He said incredulously.

Lydia waved him off. “Save that shit for someone who gives a fuck, Martin. You’re the creep who stalks me any and every possible time he gets.”

Susannah sat cross-legged on a couch, watching the duo in front of her; green eyes wide with immense enjoyment and curiosity.

“Admit that you didn’t glance around to see if I was present. No? Not once?”

“No. I’m not that daft.” She admitted scornfully.

His brows arched with amusement, even as his eyes were calm. “So, you’ll admit you’ve acted quite daft in a way.” Martin closed the distance between them, blocking her view of everyone else. “You don’t get to flounce off anytime you please.”

“I can, since I live there.”

“Under Susannah’s roof.” He murmured, the remnants of annoyance left his eyes, the golden streaks glittered in stark contrast to the browns.

His eyes flicked to her lips and stayed. “You can’t avoid me, Lydia.” He said in a husky whisper “Any more than I can.”
“That is so corny.”

Martin tilted her jaw upwards with his thumb, training his gaze solely on her lips. “Life is a fucking cliché, cara. Everything we do, everything we say; someone somewhere is saying the same thing to someone else.” He closed his lips over hers, and felt her stiffen against him. Applying more pressure, and a small tilt of her head in the right direction for his advantage, his tongue pierced the seam of her full lips.

Her lips parted, stroking her tongue against his in invitation, granting him access to what he desperately wanted at that moment; Lydia against him complacent, and craving him in return.

Lydia groped the silky, coarse texture of his deep coffee curls and pushed against him in need of his warmth. His hands slid down her hips, reaching down to hook both her legs over his waist as their kiss turned fervently fetid with lust and desire, with heat and wildness.