Adalia
"Darling, here let me fix your hair," Paris's sultry voice streamed through my ears, and my glass of water paused on my lips. The thirst in my throat was long forgotten as I reclined my head to stare at Luke and Paris.
Paris was strumming her pink-colored acrylic nails through Luke's dirt blond hair, tossing and rearranging, like she was creating a masterpiece. When in fact, Luke's hair was neither messy nor looking better from all her incessant touching.
"Thank you, love, you're always so thoughtful," Luke smiled, placing a quick peck on Paris's cheeks.
Paris giggled and shoved Luke lightly, "Stop it, I barely ever do anything."
I bit my lips and resisted the urge to gag—or so I'd like to believe. But no really, the reason I'm biting my lips is to resist the tears from falling.
When I first heard Luke and Paris were dating, I consistently cried myself to sleep for a week. That's how bad it got. However, after Addy took me to her usual 'questionable places', and helped me recover from my heartbreak. I promised myself that I'd never end up like that a second time. I'd try and forget Luke, I won't cry again.
But right now, I can't proudly make that proclamation. Seeing Luke and Paris flirt front and close has become a different pain. It feels like someone is constantly jabbing a knife into my chest with no mercy, or any sign of stopping.
I thought I was well on my way to getting over Luke, so why? Why do I still feel this crazy pain in my chest? Every time I swear that my feelings for him were six feet under, they so easily spring back up, and I'm drawn back to where I first started. I'm stuck in a never-ending cycle of trying to get over Luke, and secretly still hoping that I wasn't delusional, that he does like me back.
My situation could be described in one word; hopeless.
I should just excuse myself for a bit and go cry in the bathroom. Maybe then I'd feel better. Or better still I should call Addy to come sneak me out of here and we can go somewhere else.
Clenching my fist, I decided to get up, but before I could even think about moving, my chair was suddenly pulled sideways. The screeching sound made by the chair was so loud and purposeful that everyone at our table–and the people at the next table all stopped to stare.
Zayn had pulled my chair incredibly close to his.
He leaned his face into mine as his fingers brushed the loose strands of hair out of my face. "You aren't eating. Is something wrong?" He pondered.
"No...I just don't have any appetite..." My voice shook as I responded, and I had no idea if it was because I was on the verge of crying, or if it was because Zayn's touch was giving my heart unimaginable relief.
He cupped my face and caressed my bottom eyelids with his thumbs. "Is it that you don't have any appetite, or rather, something is making you lose your appetite." His gaze was scrutinizing, boring into the depths of my heart, almost like he could read my mind. I held my breath, hoping he couldn't actually read it, and that he wouldn't poke for more questions.
To my relief, Zayn didn't push the matter, as he retreated a bit. Then he reached for something on the table. "Let's fix your appetite shall we?" he said as he pulled his plate so that it was closer to me.
On one of his plates was a penne pasta, and on another was a bruschetta. He picked up a fork and brought the seasoned penne pasta to my mouth. "Here, why don't we try eating the small things first?"
My eyes widened, and I was dumbfounded. Zayn was going to feed me. The thought of it made my cheeks red, as I opened my mouth to take in the pasta.
As I chewed, Zayn's eyes stayed glued to my lips, following their every movement as if he were taking lessons on how to chew. The moment I swallowed the first penne pasta, he immediately fed me another one. I opened my mouth to take in the pasta but ended up smearing sauce against my lips.
"Oops, excuse me," I said, about to reach out for a napkin, but Zayn quickly caught my jaw in between his palm. Before I could question him, he swiped his thumb against my lips, slowly wiping off the thick coating of sauce in the process. Then he placed his thumb on his tongue, and dragged it downwards, licking the sauce off it.
My mouth fell open. What in the holy daddy of seduction—
I gaped at the devilish smirk playing on Zayn's lips. Why did I not have an appetite again? I can't remember, but I was suddenly hungry...and thirsty.
A series of tableware clanking against each other interrupted my momentary daze and I snapped my eyes to Luke and Paris.
Crap. I had forgotten they were here. Embarrassment slowly crept onto my cheeks as my heart tinged a bit with guilt when I caught sight of Luke's face.
He was watching with a grimaced expression, while Paris was openly glaring at me. However, the moment Luke caught me staring back, he quickly cleared his throat and wore his fake smile once again.
"What's wrong Adalia, I've never known you to lose an appetite for food. When we go out, you always tend to eat twice your plate. It couldn't be you're suddenly shy in front of Mr. Warren, could it?"
My fingers twitched and I felt my face fall even deeper at Luke's innuendo.
Zayn's hands that were about to feed me another fork of pasta paused. His head shot up as he stared between me and Luke. "You went out together?" he asked, slowly setting down the forkful of pasta.
I stiffened. Uh oh.
"Yes, we did. We even had fun two nights ago," Luke brushed his hair backward with a gallant smile, looking pleased with himself.
Is he nuts?! Who says that type of stuff in front of their lover?! Moreover, why did he have to phrase it that way in front of Zayn?!
Ugh, I don't want Zayn to think anything is going on between me and Luke because there isn't!
"You had fun together two nights ago, did you?" The iciness from Zayn's voice bit through my heart and my breath stifled. I didn't even want to look him in the eye. I was scared that his eyes which only ever looked at me with warmth, would be looking at me with contempt at this moment.
"No, we—" I started to clarify Luke's warped sentence when I felt something warm and smooth slide up my thighs.
Huh?
I looked down to see Zayn's palm slithering into the rips of my jeans, trailing my skin with soft strokes.
His second hand slid to my neck, "You were with him two nights ago, were you?" He asked as he pushed my hair aside, revealing the red angry marks he had placed on my neck last night. "So, which was better?"
"What?" I was dumbfounded.
"I said, which night was better," he repeats. "The one of two nights ago?" he rubbed the hickey on my neck, making me shudder. "Or the one of yesterday?" his fingers lightly scrapped my inner thigh.
Like a memory muscle, my inner thighs began to buzz and electricity shot through me, prompting me to bite my lips.
He gripped my thigh lightly, "Come now gorgeous, don't be shy. Tell me which was better."
"I...I-"
"Hmm," he pressed further, his hands dangerously close to my core.
"Zayn," I groaned his name.
"Yes gorgeous, I'm here," his hot breath fanned my cheeks, heightening my senses to the fact that his lips were so close to mine.
"Darling let go of the glass, it'll cut you if you keep grabbing onto it like that!" Paris's panicked voice cut through my heated breath, gaining my attention.
Her face looked pale as she was grasping Luke's arm, worry marking her face.
I was confused about what was going on until I saw Luke's wine glass replaced with broken shards in his palm. Red wine was spilling from his palm onto the tabletop.
Luke ignored Paris as he gripped the broken glass even harder while staring at Zayn as if devising ways to shove those broken shards down Zayn's throat.
Why was he angry—no scratch that. What right did he have to be angry? He and Paris were also putting on a show earlier and moreover, he was the cause of this. He just had to say some false nonsense.
And then, like a candle flame, a thought lit up in me. For once, I was the one stirring up an emotion in Luke. I was twisting his mood and flaming the anger in him. I wasn't going to let this end that fast.
So I laid my face on Zayn's chest and nuzzled in further. "Last night was better," I whispered, my voice low enough to sound seductive, but loud enough for everyone else to hear.
"Hmm, good girl," Zayn patted the top of my head and kissed it.
I took a glance at Luke once more, and he looked so angry that he could spit out blood. The sinful feeling in me grew, and I took my provocation a step further.
Strumming my fingers like Paris did, I slid them ever so slightly against Zayn's body; up his abs, through his chest, past his neck, until I gripped his nape. "In fact, I felt content."
A low growl reverberated from Zayn's chest as he abruptly stood up and tossed me over his shoulders.
"Ah!" I squealed in surprise.
"Fuck. I only meant to tease you, I didn't know you'd end up provoking me this much," he cursed as he stormed away from the table.
"Zayn!" I flailed like a sack of potatoes.
He gave a light spank to my ass, and I yelped. "Hush now gorgeous, you're largely at fault here."
The entire restaurant was staring at what a spectacle we were, and I groaned in embarrassment.
I'm never coming here again! In fact, I'm never coming to this part of town EVER again. It's only my hope that I don't end up as an internet sensation by tomorrow.
The thought made me groan again, as I started to imagine all the memes that may pop up with my face on it.
Oh hey, at least I'd be famous.
Who am I kidding? I'd dig a hole and bury myself, never to be seen again if that ever happens.
Meanwhile, Zayn was storming out of the restaurant with one hand still gripping my ass, completely ignorant of the stares and whispers around us.
The last thing I saw before he completely exited the restaurant, was a mortified Paris pulling a red-faced Luke back. He looked like he was about to chase after us, but something told me the glare Zayn sent his way made him think otherwise.
Zayn opened the passenger side of his door and flopped me into the seat, then he buckled my seatbelt and swiftly hopped into the driver's seat. Without so much as a word, he started the car and zoomed out of the parking lot.
The entire ride was quiet, save for the sporadic low growls that would reverberate through the car now and then.
I'm glad Zayn had fastened my seatbelt because the way he was driving right now was like a drunken maniac. He was swerving through cars and beating yellow lights.
I'd ask him to slow down, but something told me it wouldn't do much. The tension in the air was both crazed and sexual.
***
In the blink of an eye, we were already in front of my house, my back pressing hard against my doors; my breaths strained and rabid.
Zayn and I had tried to make it into the house, but when I nervously fumbled with my keys and took too long to open the door, he lost all restraint and smashed his lips against mine.
"Zayn," I moaned, earning me a deep, frustrated groan from him.
"You're driving me fucking crazy Adalia," he said against my lips, before claiming it once more. His tongue grazed my lips as his teeth nipped on it. Pain carrying the shadow of pleasure zapped through me and I whimpered.
I gripped Zayn's hair and pressed my lips further, allowing his tongue to evade my mouth.
"Hmm," he hummed, his hand running up my thighs as he effortlessly lifted them off the floor and wrapped my legs around his waist.
I wanted more of him, I wanted him to repeat what we did last night. Having him touch me all over and take me in a way that felt like he was claiming me.
Just when I was running out of breath, Zayn broke the kiss and switched his focus to my neck. His lips lapped at the base of my neck, swiping his tongue on it. Then ever so gently, he placed a soft kiss on it, like it was a treasure. The notion made me heave a sigh and I relaxed my head on his shoulder.
What was that? My body feels so light and relaxed.
Then I felt it, something sharp and pointy grazing my skin. A sudden thrill sparked through me and my body started to convulse. The further it pierced my skin, the more my body buzzed. Goosebumps were springing up my arm and I felt my panties soak. My nipples perked and all my senses felt heightened.
I don't know what was going on, but all my instincts were telling me to push my neck further into his teeth...to complete something.
Just as I was about to press my skin further, Zayn suddenly separated from me and dropped me back on the floor.
"This is agonizing," He raked his hair which was messy from my grabbing. His brows were furrowed with closed eyes and his chest was heaving.
"Zayn?" I called out, and his eyes shot open.
A flash of gold eyes was all I saw before Zayn was gone in a flash. In the blink of an eye, Zayn got in his car and drove off, and I was left alone at my doorstep, feeling breathless, dazed, and empty.