Page 5 of Isolation
“Rave,” I start. I am barely able to keep the chipperness out of my tone.
She doesn’t respond to me but gives me a nod instead.
“How have you been?” I try to sound friendly, hoping to hear her voice.
“Milo. Come in. Would you like a drink?”
It’s been so long since I have heard the sound of my name from her lips. I feel enchanted by it, but I can’t ignore the humor in the situation. Raven offered me a drink in my own home.
“You are inviting me to my own home and offering me a drink? Shouldn’t I be the one offering you a drink?”
“Okay. Get me a drink. I will take a dry martini with orange bitters and a lemon twist. Olives will do if you don’t have a lemon. I prefer it in a chilled glass. You can probably chill the glass in the ice bucket.”
And there it is. I smile. She is so damn cute when she wants to disarm me. She doesn’t have to try this hard. I am already floored by her.
I shrug off my jacket, still unable to look away. As we make our way to the kitchen, I notice something weird about Raven’s outfit.
Her dress has a back pocket, which seems fashion-forward even by Raven’s standard. But the truly weird thing is the pepper spray that’s peeking out of her back pocket. I shake my head at her attempt. She doesn’t feel my slight touch when I casually retrieve the pepper spray and pocket it.
I fumble around the liquor cabinet for martini glasses, but I can’t keep my eyes off her. I doubt I’ll be able to go through the ordeal of using the cocktail shaker to make anything resembling a martini. I spy a bottle of Malbec on the shelf. It’s her favorite so I offer it to her.
Our fingers touch when I extend the wine glass to her, shooting a familiar zing all the way inside. Fuck. The familiar intensity from just a little contact is like high voltage.
This girl. Scratch that. Thiswomanis the only one who can do that. She is an enigma—my only anomaly.
“When did you get back to New York?” I ask apprehensively.
“A week ago,” Raven lies. She has been back for months, but she has been avoiding me.
I disregard the familiar irritation that arises and continue to ask more questions.
Raven tells me about working for our family friend, Karen. Raven also has to work part-time on the side, since her internship is unpaid.
“With the COVID outbreak, you can’t possibly work a part-time job now.” A few months ago, a virus called COVID-19 spread worldwide. The government protocols dictate that we stay indoors for the coming weeks. As a result, everyone is moving back to this brownstone to stay quarantined as a family. “So, you will stay here. We are all camping out in here as well.”
“I am glad that’s settled,” Raven nods, putting her wine glass down. “I wish I could stay and catch up, but I have to unpack. Thank you for the drink.”
What the fuck!Is she not even going to address the situation with Reid? The kind of anger only Raven can surge bubbles up. It’s mixing into a volatile concoction inside me.
Putting my wine glass down, I charge after her. I know that my actions are going to hurt her again. However, I don’t see another option for the outcome I need.
Today, one way or the other, our families will find out about us.
Raven is making a fast exit. Her destination is up those stairs to her room. Running behind her, I lift Raven up. She tenses in shock and lets out the loudest scream. I quickly walk us up the stairs. My destination is also up those stairs to my room.
With a struggling Raven in my arms, I walk to my room and push us onto the bed. Raven is making her case, using logic and rationality to talk me out of this. She should know better by now. I ignore all of her physical assaults and verbal abuse to lean over and kiss her.
My heart feels like it’s about to burst open again. I kiss her frantically while my whole body starts to shake. I haven’t felt this in years. Nothing has ever felt this good—this right.
I have always counted on our insatiable magnetic physical pull, but years have gone by since we have touched each other.
I am worried she might have lost that appetite for me. I need her to give in. I need that acquiescence that we are what I played us up to be.
I pull her dress up and her underwear down. Using one of my hands, I pin both of her wrists on her belly, pushing down to keep her locked in place.
I drop down, so my face lands on her pussy. With my free hand, I slip two fingers inside her and press my tongue on her clit. I start pumping my fingers as I keep up the torturous friction of my tongue.
Within minutes I feel Raven squeezing. I release her hands. If she truly doesn’t want me, this is her chance. I am not holding her down anymore.
