His to Steal

Ch. 12: Kiss

"Oh. Well, if you're sure..."

When she nods, I sit back down and let out a sigh, dropping my head into my hands.

"I just wish I'd never run into him again to be honest. I'd gotten used to him never being around, and now that I've seen him, I don't know, it's like I'm now thinking about what could have been. And what made him leave in the first place."

"Maybe just...ask him?"

The way she says it is just so matter-of-fact like it would be so easy. But it wouldn't be. Would it?

"I can't. He won't tell me the truth."

"How do you know that?"

"I—I mean, I guess I don't know for sure, but if he wanted me to know, he would've just told me. We were always honest with each other. Or...maybe he was being honest. He just didn't want to be there anymore, and I was one of the reasons he left."

Her sky-blue eyes widen and her jaw drops. "He said that?"

"Yeah, he did."

She wrinkles her nose and grimaces. "Yikes. What an ass."

"Yeah, so...maybe I just need to forget about it and pretend I never saw him."

Lauren nods. "I think that would probably be best. Just move on."

Move on where, though? That's always my problem. There's nowhere to go.

"You're right." I sigh and get to my feet. "Thanks for talking it out with me. It's not like I could tell Dom about this or anything...if anyone finds out I went out by myself, they'd lock me in my room til the end of time."

"You're welcome, Sutton. Do you want me to give you this back?" She holds out the Starbucks card to me. "I feel bad you didn't even get to stay gone long, plus you got metaphorically slapped in the face while you were out there."

I push the card back toward her. "Absolutely not. Keep it. Have a good night, and I'll keep you updated if anything else happens."

"You better. This is some good tea."

I manage to get in the door without setting off the alarm and when I'm back in my room, I change into a sleep shirt and slide under the cover, intent on falling asleep, but my brain refuses to turn off. All I can think about is Nicolai and how he spoke to me in the park.

And how when he pressed up against me, I could feel how hard he was.

Nothing makes sense, and I am so confused.

And turned on.

With a frustrated groan, I flip over onto my back and slip my hand under the cover and beneath my shirt. As soon as my fingertips brush against my ribs, I have to stifle a moan.

Why am I so worked up? Nicolai was a complete dickhead to me, so why am I letting him get under my skin?

I don't have the answers, or the mental capacity to work through them right now because all I can think about is the throbbing between my legs and how tightly my skin is stretched over my bones. My hand drops lower until my fingers are underneath the waistband of my panties. When I run them through my slit, I find myself soaked.

My eyelids flutter closed as I slide one finger further inside and press my thumb against my clit, relieving some of the pressure that's been building since I saw Nicolai at that restaurant. I let out a whimper as my hips lift from the bed, and I clench the sheet tight with my free hand.

"Fuck," I hiss as I work myself faster, little coils of pleasure winding low in my belly, the climb to release shorter than I expected with nothing but my hand, and I bite my bottom lip until the coppery taste of blood hits my tongue.