Page 29 of Hold Me Closer
"Uh, yeah!"
I laugh, tossing a pillow at her.
She catches it, smirking at me.
"You know who else lives in a castle and has millions?" I waggle my brows at her. "Jareth."
"Nope!" she shouts, throwing the pillow at me to cover her ears with her hands. "I can't hear you!"
"He's hot!" I yell as she races toward the bedroom door. "And he has a thing for you."
"I'm going to bed!"
"Dream about him!" I shout after her.
"I hate you."
"I bet he's dreaming about you!"
"Good! I hope he is." Her wicked laughter floats back to me, making me smile. God, I'm going to miss her after she flies out tomorrow. This house is way too big for just me. I'm not sure why I bought it. It's beautiful, sure. But it doesn't reallyfeellike me.
Maybe that's why I put in an offer. I wanted something different, something that didn't feel like the same old Nadia. This isn't that. It's more house than a girl from Tennessee will ever need.
I roll from the bed to go shower.
As hot water sluices over me, Teo rushes back to the forefront of my mind. I didn't tell Zoya that he made me come today. That little secret I intend to keep to myself. I probably shouldn't have let it happen, but I'm not sure I regret it, either.
Does he really dream about me every night like he said?
God knows, he's always the one getting me off in my dreams. It's always his hands, his mouth, his cock I think about when I touch myself. Even when he shouldn't be, he's my fantasy.
I slip my hand down my body, remembering the way he touched me today. The possessive edge to his kisses. The weight of his body pressing me against the wall.
It's always you on my cock. You, letting me taste that perfect pussy.
My thumb rolls over my clit, a whimper climbing up my throat. God, I shouldn't want him the way I do. He shouldn't make me ache the way he does. But it's always been him. I learned desire staring into his eyes. I tasted it on his tongue for the first time. And he shattered me with it today.
"Teo," I moan, an orgasm rolling through me. I work myself through it, trembling. And then I groan, plunging my head under the water as if that'll clear him from it. Spoiler alert: it doesn't.
When I climb from the shower ten minutes later, his piercing blue eyes still hang front and center in my mind, watching me from the deepest recesses, as if he carved out some new place in my soul today and made it his own.
My phone buzzes while I'm combing my hair. I scoop it up, my heart thudding unevenly against my ribcage when I see his name on the display.
Zoya was right today. He does still have his old number.
Teo: How many songs are about me, butterfly?
I read his message, contemplating how to respond. The truth is that most of them are about him. I have a lifetime of memories of him. He's indelibly stamped into the fabric of my life, into every cell of me. When I write, he pours out of me whether I want him to or not.
Me: How many fights were about me?
I don't really expect a response, but it comes almost immediately.
Teo: Most of them.
I blink in shock, but he isn't finished.
Teo: I told Greg Aldersgate about you when we were roommates. He attacked his girlfriend a couple of years later, and I handled it. He never forgave me. He brings you up to taunt me.
