Page 51 of Omega Artist
“Right… Didn’t you call me sweet once?” I rack my brain. “Of course, you did… on New Year’s Eve. I gave you a pass that time, but you should know that no guy wants to be calledsweet, baby.”
She shivers and counters, raising her index finger. “Hold that thought, please. This will sound rude, but I need to use the bathroom.” She laughs at her admission, since that’s how she ended up here in the first place. “Plus, I need to go to the store. I’m not trying to ditch you, but I have to brush my teeth.”
My chest vibrates with laughter. “Relax, princess. I’m pretty sure that I have an extra toothbrush lying around. Would that make you stay, or do you have to run anyway?” I’m bouncing from one foot to the other, hesitant about my next move.
“See? So considerate!” A soft giggle escapes her full mouth that I long to conquer yet again, and her angelic face breaks into a knowing smile. “Lead the way.” She bolts out of her seat and stares at me expectantly.
Alie trails behind me, the way she did when she woke up earlier, and I feel the weight of her eyes on my ass while I’m on my knees searching the bottom drawer for said toothbrush. As much as I enjoy being the focus of her attention, I can’t hold this position with the semi that I’m sporting. I pretend to hunt for a cleaning product to pass the time until I’m presentable enough to stand up. I’m being ridiculous, and I know it.
A few seconds later, I declare, “I’ll leave you to it,” like an idiot. As if she needs a chaperone to pee! I wonder what the hell is wrong with me as I shyly exit the room.
This girl’s seriously messing with my head, unless my hormones are in the driver’s seat. I haven’t hooked up with anyone in a couple of weeks, which isn’t like me. Moving took up a lot of my time, but the real reason behind it is that I’m heeding my favorite piercer’s advice that also extended to my gym habits. Claire warned that if I didn’t stop certain physical activities, I might not heal properly.
Her hand grips the doorknob of my freshly painteden suitebathroom. My intense gaze doesn’t leave hers as she retreats, inch by inch, her arm extending to slowly close the door. And I’m immediately distracted by her stripper tits and how they strain the fabric of her tee-shirt. Her satisfied expression tells me that she’s fully aware of what she’s doing as well as what’s going on inside of my filthy head.
Then I’m left alone—outside of my own bathroom—with my indecent thoughts. Now that our connection is broken, I don’t know what to do with myself until I remember that I left my phone in the kitchen. I go to grab it, each step taking me back and forth between my irrepressible need to put our obvious chemistry to the test and my nagging reservations about my feelings for her.
Are you even legal?
Groaning to myself, I trudge back to my room while shooting a text to Lucas and Marco, who’ve both been wondering if I was going to meet them later. Apparently, my new location rattled them more than it did me. I know that my absence from the gym is what’s really troubling them. They can pry all they want; I won’t admit the reason for my abstinence… but it’s about time that I put an end to it.
Immersed in my typing, I don’t hear her emerge from the bathroom. I tear my eyes from my phone and take her in. Her cheeks are rosy. Her head is cocked to the side. Her stance is self-assured. Right then, the air thickens, and I know that she’ll be my undoing as she lazily stretches her arms high above her head. My eyes skim over her fit frame and settle on her upper body. Her rack is more spectacular than ever, and I blame it on her long-sleeve tee-shirt that she tucked into her jeans, pulling the fabric taut against her skin.
She’s so fucking hot and seems strangely oblivious to it. My mind is going a mile a minute, and my dick stirs to life for good this time, pressing against my zipper to break free. I growl at the painful sensation along with my frustration over my revealing jeans that broadcast my state.
Unabashedly, I lick my lips at the sight of her, a cocky smile plastered on my stupid face. Anticipating how my tongue, fingers, and— hopefully—cock will feel getting lost in her breasts, I force my eyes upwards. Otherwise, I won’t be able to control myself much longer.
I clear my throat and say, “I was texting and didn’t see you.”
You fucking liar! She’s all you see…
Acknowledging where my eyes wandered, she meets my heated stare and purses her lips. I anxiously pray for her strained shirt to pop out of her jeans, but her belt keeps the damn thing in place.
Out of the blue, she blurts, “I’m twenty-one, you know.” I must look stunned because she adds, “I look younger, and I—”
I release a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, rub my chin between my fingers, and whisper to myself, “Twelve years apart…”
She bats her lashes dramatically, then chuckles. “Don’t stress about it, Tig. I don’t have daddy issues.”
The distance between us overwhelms me with a disturbing sense of loss; I gently shake my head to dispel the thought, without success. I let out a shaky breath and toss my phone on the bed with my next step. Although I want to deny it, I can’t stand being away from her. My entire body is rebelling against it.
Within two more strides, I’m invading her personal space again, my gaze boring into hers while my imagination runs wild. “I’m sorr—” I start and abruptly stop, catching my mistake. Her back is inches from the wall, next to a large window that’s flooding the room with light and making me blink. It’s not my imagination that I want going wild, it’s her beneath me. “You know what? Fuck John Wayne.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, ‘Fuck John Wayne!’ No more apologies,” I warn.
With that, my hip slams her against the wall, grinding my body against hers in the process. Shit! I’m ready to burst before we’ve even gotten started. I need to conquer her. I need to have her. I need to fuck her. My hungry mouth waters but somehow turns parched. My hopeful heart begins to drum in my constricted chest. My throbbing cock ignores my silent plea to behave.
Next thing I know, my hand develops a mind of its own and cups her firm ass. I revel at the sight of her tilting her neck backwards and breaking out in goosebumps. I’m guessing that they’ve spread everywhere, but her damned shirt blocks the view.
A devious smile flashes on her face and her pupils dilate with a desperate hunger. I’m not sure where it comes from. I’m not sure whether I’m sending the same intense signals. I’m not sure that I understand our rapidly growing attraction… but it doesn’t really matter, does it?
Opening her mouth to add something, I beat her to it and fuse my mouth over hers. My pulse accelerates as the tip of my tongue caresses her supple lips; there’s a lingering taste of my minty toothpaste on them which makes me smile. I’ve missed kissing her and make my intentions clear, taking advantage of her parted lips with my greedy tongue.
Why a mere kiss sends jolts of pleasure throughout my horny body is beyond me. Never have I felt this peaceful, lustful, and hopeful at once.
I heave a satisfied groan at the erotic little noises that she makes as she writhes under my touch. It seems that we’re in sync. I deepen our salacious kiss, and her entire body relaxes while my grip tightens on one of her perfect butt cheeks, and I grind my hips against hers. The friction sends my blood racing.
