Page 11 of Lost to the Woods

Granted, that’s pretty vanilla coming from him. Let me tell you—that man has some mouth on him, alright. He used to say nastiness I’m not willing to even repeat and make it soundlike a damn promise. But it’s beenmonthssince we spoke that way…

I kick him lightly under the table, which only makes him laugh—deep, throaty, completely unbothered. I hate that he knows what he’s doing to me. I hate it even more that I want him to keep doing it.

My face is on fire as I sputter, “You’re disgusting.” I kick again for good measure, a bit harder this time.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Aggressive. I like it.” Then, because he’sthe worst, he whispers, “Fuck, I want you riding my face so badly.”

I malfunction. My brain? Error 404: Not Found.

I stare at him, speechless, my chest rising and falling rapidly as my thighs press together instinctively. He just sits there across from me, completely composed, like he didn’t just putthatimage inside my head.

And you know what? Yes, I would very much love to ride his face right about now. He could suffocate there for all I care.

“Don’t be such a prude, Bun-bun,” he mocks me. “You’ve ripped that mask off before to kiss me.”

Oh, he’s talking about this past New Year’s Eve. I don’t quite remember that night—everything is fuzzy, though I do know I woke up in his hotel room in the morning.

“You’re being extremely inappropriate,” I whisper, trying to sound stern. It’s the only half-coherent sentence I can manage. On the inside, I’m not okay. Not at all.

“I want to pin you down on that table and devour you right here for everyone to see,” he murmurs, calm as ever. “But I don’t do that, now do I? I think that’s pretty fucking appropriate of me, then.” He leans back like he didn’t just say that with his whole chest.

I clear my throat, desperate to collect myself, while squeezing my thighs tighter under the table. My body is betraying me.

“You’re squirming,” he says, watching me like a hawk.

“I’m not,” I lie, voice a little too tight.

“Right,” he smirks. “Like I don’t know how badly you want to climb over this table right now.”

I glare. “In your dreams.”

“Every fucking night, sweetheart.”

I huff, flustered. “God, you’re impossible!”

He leans in again, dropping his voice to something sinfully low. “Want me to stop?”

“Yes!” I almost whimper, weak and pathetic.

“Liar.” His voice sharpens, and I feel the mood shift. He gets cold. “You can’t just act like that never happened.”

“I don’t remember it,” I mutter, shaking my head. “You know that.”

“Well… but you do remember our calls, don’t you?”

He’s suffocating me with the truth, and he knows it. My throat goes dry.

“Can we not do this here?” I say quickly, trying to sound in control. “I need the restroom.”

He nods, and I bolt to the ladies’ room, slam the door shut behind me, and grip the edge of the sink just to breathe. My reflection stares back at me, face flushed, lips parted.

I dab cold water onto my cheeks, but it does nothing to fix the absolute mess he just made of me. My pupils are blown. My chest is rising too fast. My body is still humming.

God, I want him. Just like I always did. Perhaps even more now after losing him before…

I was trying to move on. I really did try my best. But all it took was him whispering likethat, and I’m right back where I started.

Fuck!

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