Page 80 of Ominous: Part 1
I grab my phone, ignoring the feel of cum on my skin as I text her back, catching my breath.
Me: It better be my fucking face.
Anyone else touching her like that… I think I would fucking kill them. I don’t want her to be hurt. I want tohurt her, and there’s a difference, in my head.
Her: What if it isn’t?
This fucking brat. I smile in the dark, exhausted, but I text her anyway.
Me: No one can hurt you but me, Eden.
A few minutes later, my eyes heavy with the need for sleep, she texts me back.
Her: Even though we’re talking about you killing me, that sounded sweet.
I roll my eyes, still fucking smiling.Me: It is sweet. So is the fact you’re willing to let me murder you.
Her: Just not yet. I want to have real sex with you before you suffocate me.
My dick gets hard all over again. It’s going to be a long night.Me: You want to have sex with me?
She starts typing, then stops, then starts again, and I’m wide awake now. I glance at my desk, knowing I’ll probably spend most of the night there. I rarely sleep, and if she hadn’t turned me on all over again, or maybe if she was here with me, tonight would be a night I get a few hours in.
But I sit up slowly, staring at my phone, waiting for her answer.
Her: Shut up, Eli. Goodnight.
I tighten my grip on my phone, smirking.Me: I’m going to pay your ass back for that. Now get some sleep for me.
Her: Yes, sir.
I fall back on my bed, tossing my phone and letting it land with athunkin my sheets. I slap the palm of my hands over my eyes, wondering how the fuck I’m going to keep my hands off of her until she’sreallyready.
17
Eden
I rubmy fists over my eyes as I pad to the bathroom. The floor is cold beneath the soles of my feet, even through my socks, the thin linoleum creaking underway. The scent of bleach, a long-dead candle and something like weed lingers in the air as I go to shut myself in the darkness, not yet ready for bright lights. It’s early, but I want to try a workout before Mom drops me off at school and besides, I didn’t really sleep much anyway. Power walking in place, she brought the DVD home for me from one of the housewives’ she cleans homes for. If it was from anyone else, it could’ve been seen as an insult, but Mom once stumbled into my room at the apartment before the crack of dawn to find me doing lunges beside my bed.
It takes me about two seconds too long to realize the door isn’t closing. I give it a shove, annoyed, wondering if Sebastian left his clothes on the floor or something. Then the door shovesbackand I stumble a few steps toward the shower.
In the thin rays of sunlight from the hallway at his back, I see Sebastian’s lanky frame in the doorway, his hand evidently holding open the door.
“What are you doing?” The question is automatic as I blink in the darkness, trying to make sense of Sebastian’s early rise. He hasn’t gotten a new job yet, I heard him in here just after one this morning while I was reading, and as far as I know, he sleeps until noon most days. Reece has been bitching at him about it.
My stepbrother yawns, bringing his hand over his mouth. He’s wearing a beige hoodie, track pants, and thick, black shadows beneath his eyes.
They remind me of Eli. I think of last night. Getting off to Eli’s texts. My face burns hot, and I lose focus on Sebastian for a second until he drops his hand, slips both into his pockets and leans against the frame of the door.
“Who were you talking to last night?” His voice is throaty, no doubt from whatever party he stumbled in from last night. For a guy who can’t find a job, he’s very skilled at unearthing numerous places to get high.
“What?”Even as I ask it, I’m thinking of Eli’s texts again. Laughing out loud at some of them, imagining myself at his mercy with others.Baby girl.I feel sweaty despite my thin sleep shirt and shorts. The knee-high socks might have something to do with it.
I cross my arms over my chest, as if the movement will somehow block Sebastian from reading my mind.
“Probably not Amanda. Eli, huh?” He sounds like he’s accusing me of something, and I narrow my eyes at his words.
“Does it surprise you I have friends?” It sounds childish, but I can’t resist the bite.
