Did she just run away? Again. Leaving me here with a raging hard-on and the taste of her lingering on my tongue. Fuck, the way her body was pressed against mine, her moans, the way she pulled me closer. It's all driving me crazy.
Why did I wait so damn long to taste her? One kiss isn't nearly enough. I want more. I want to keep kissing her until there's nothing left of me but her. I want to take everything she has to offer, every moan, every gasp, every delicious shiver.
Her lips were like silk against mine, soft and inviting, drawing me in with every kiss.
For a moment, I was completely lost in the sensation, so lost that I closed my eyes to savor the moment. That's a first. I never do that, I never did it before. But then I wanted to see her, to see the effect I was having on her.
When I opened my eyes, hers were closed shut, lost in the same haze of desire that consumed me. I couldn't help but force her to open her eyes because I needed to see the hunger there, the same hunger that burned within me.
She's smart, she understood, and she opened those eyes of hers, and fuck, they were like black holes sucking me in. Her dilated pupils were starving, mirroring my own.
She tasted like heaven and hell all rolled into one, a mix of sweetness and spice that left me craving more. She tasted a thousand times better than I'd imagined.
Each kiss was like a shot of adrenaline, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. And when she grabbed my hair, pulling me closer, she was demanding that I give her everything I had.
Her taste is like a drug, addicting and irresistible, and I can't get enough of her. I need to devour her, every inch of her, until there's nothing left but the echo of her screams.
Feeling her nails digging into my shoulders only turned me on even more. It was like she was staking her claim, telling me she wanted it just as bad as I did. Damn, she's a wild one, all I can think about is how badly I want her back in my arms, how badly I want to lose myself in her all over again.
It was like she was the missing piece of the puzzle, the one thing I didn't even know I was searching for until she was in my arms.
Evara's mine, and it's high time she got that through her head. No more running away. She should know by now, the harder she runs, the more determined I become to chase her. If Evara keeps playing this game, teasing and running away, then she's leaving me with no choice but to take what's mine.
I'll hunt her down, pin her against the nearest surface, fuck her so hard she won't even be able to walk, let alone run. I would make her scream my name until she can't remember anything else. And when I'm done with her, she'll know exactly who she belongs to.
******
That cold shower did nothing to cool me down. If anything, it's got me feeling like a hormonal teenager who just locked lips for the first time. My dick is being a dick, it just won't go down. What the hell did she do to me? I can still feel her touch lingering on my skin.
No matter what I do, this thing just won't calm down. I'm trying so hard to put off the fire she ignited within me, but it's like trying to conceal a raging fire with a wet blanket.
I try thinking about hockey, counting sheep, even focusing on medical terminology, anatomy, and complex procedures, but nothing's working. Guess I'll just have to deal with it and hope it settles down on its own before I head out to the party.
I grab the towel from the rack and start drying myself off. Once I'm dry, I wrap the towel around my waist and catch my reflection in the mirror. There, plain as day, are Evara's nail marks etched into my shoulder.
I never thought I'd love being marked by someone else this much. But there's something about those nail marks on my shoulder that's got me feeling alive in ways I never imagined. I can't help but smirk as I trace the marks with my fingertips, relishing in the sensation.
I strut over to the bed where my outfit's laid out. Slipping into my clothes, I can still smell her intoxicating perfume in the air, driving me wild with desire.
After I'm done getting ready, I step out of my room. As I walk down the hallway, adjusting my watch, I catch snippets of laughter echoing from downstairs. My steps falter, and I pause.
Peeking over the railing, I spot Evara chatting with Mom and her friends. Her laughter fills the room, lighting up her entire face in a way that makes my chest ache. Seeing her like this, I realize I could just sit here and spend eternity watching her laugh.
As I'm about to head downstairs, I remember I left something unfinished. So, I take a right and start walking, focused on my own thoughts. Suddenly, I see Jack coming from the front and Dad approaching from the left.
"Where's Nick?" we all blurt out at the same time, exchanging puzzled glances.
"I don't fucking know," again we all say it simultaneously, frustration evident in our voices.
Well, this is strange. Looks like Nick is going to have to run for his life.
I hold up a hand, signaling for a moment of pause. "Wait," I say, addressing Jack directly. "What did he do to you?" I ask, my tone firm.
Jack takes a moment, then responds, "Keeps fucking up my business." He shoots me a look, "You?"
"Yeah, same," I reply, feeling a twinge of annoyance at the memory.
We both turn to Dad, curious to hear his side of the story.
Dad is pissed when he says, "That fucking idiot wouldn't let me make out with Dime in peace."
Jack and I exchange grimaces.
"Dad, seriously, we don't want to hear that," I interject, feeling a bit queasy.
"Yeah, spare us the details. That's our mom!" Jack adds, echoing my sentiment.
Dad just shrugs and says, "That's my wife."
Classic Dad move.
Then he gets back to business, asking, "Now where's the little shit?"
Jack's quick to respond, saying, "Must be in his room."
We all make our way over to Nick's room and start banging on the door.
From inside, Nick's voice calls out, "Who's it?"
I don't hold back, frustration boiling over as I bark, "Open the fucking door."
Nick's voice floats back, "I'm busy. I'll meet you downstairs in five."
Sharing annoyed glances with Jack and Dad, I can't help but wonder what the hell he's playing at.
Jack steps up, his irritation palpable. "Come out this fucking second," he demands.
Nick's voice sounds surprised. "You're here too?" then he continues, "Go away."
Then Dad's firm voice cuts in, "Open up."
"Dad?" Nick's tone shifts as he realizes.
Suddenly, I hear Nick's footsteps approaching, and the door flies open.
Nick's demeanor gives me pause; he looks like he's been caught red-handed stealing a puppy or something.
Before I can even inquire, Nick cuts in, "Who died?"
Jack fires back, "You're about to."
Nick brushes him off with a casual, "What's with you two today? Sure, later," and moves to close the door.
I step forward, instincts kicking in as I reach out and put my hand on the door to stop Nick from shutting us out. We're not letting him off the hook that easily.
Nick emerges from his room and swiftly shuts the door behind him, playing innocent as he says, "Hey now, I don't think I did anything to deserve that."
Turning to Dad, Nick throws a pointed look his way, asking, "Dad, you heard that? They have been threatening your favorite son's life all day."
Dad's response is swift and no-nonsense. "If it weren't for your mom, I would kick your ass myself." He shoots Nick a stern glare, his frustration evident. "I have told you a million times, stop popping up every time we are having a moment."
Nick laughs, "As always, I did not know! I'm sorry, okay."
Jack jumps in, asking him about his track record, "What do you mean by as always? How many times have you done that?"
Nick chuckles, his tone sheepish. "Since I was fifteen?"
Dad's voice cuts through, "No. Since he was born."
And here I thought Nick just ruined my moments.
Nick chuckles, then shoots me and Jack a knowing look as he asks, "Did I cockblock you two too?"
Without missing a beat, Jack and I respond simultaneously, "No."
Fuck. I said it too quickly. So did Jack.
We just look at each other with a neutral expression, not to give away anything. But who am I kidding? He knows I'm lying and I know he's lying.
Nick's smirk grows wider as he retorts, "That was fast. You two are lying."
"Shut up, Nick," we both snap back in unison.
Dad chimes in, "You two need to work on your lying skills. And you," he points at Nick, "aren't good at it either."
Nick's expression shifts to neutral, then he breaks into a mischievous smile. "What? I'm not lying about anything, Dad."
Dad just nods, a knowing look in his eyes, before turning to walk away. As he heads off, he throws a casual remark over his shoulder, "Stay away from my room."
"Mine too," I add.
Jack replies, "Yeah, mine as well."
Nick just shrugs, saying, "Okay. Okay. And you all stay away from mine," before disappearing into his room and closing the door behind him.
Jack vocalizes what I've been thinking all along. "He's hiding something," he says, mirroring my thoughts perfectly.
I nod in agreement. "Definitely."
But before we can dwell on it further, we hear Mom calling out for us from downstairs. With a shared glance, Jack and I decide to leave Nick's agenda for another time and head downstairs.