Page 105 of The Love of My Next Life
“It’s just weed, Macon,” I say with a shrug. “Now get out.”
“You need to stop,” he commands. “You can’t do drugs with the Harpers.”
I snort.
“It’sweed,” I say again. “I’m not fucking stupid.”
I raise a brow at him and cock my head to the side. I let the implication float between us.I’m not fucking stupidlike you. It’s not like he hasn’t done way worse. I’m just smoking weed, and no way in hell will I ever get tangled up with Chase. Samantha isn’t her brother, and Macon should know that.
“Get out,” I say again. He doesn’t budge, so I shrug. “Fine.”
I take my shirt off and toss it in the corner. Then slide my jeans down my legs. I’m standing in front of him in a bra and panties. I can feel his eyes on me, and it’s thrilling.
I walk slowly to my dresser and pull out an oversized shirt. It’s a Franklin football shirt. I grab it just to piss him off. I turn and face him, then take off my bra.
I stand there, topless, for almost a full minute. I let him stare. I watch his chest rise and fall rapidly. I watch him shift his body in an attempt to hide his growing erection. I slide my hand up my stomach, trace my fingers along the underside of my breast, then up to my collarbone, and slowly downward.
Just before I get to my nipple, Macon snaps his eyes shut.
“Put your fucking shirt on, Lennon,” he spits.
I huff and pull the shirt over my head, then turn my back to him, making sure he sees Eric’s football number on the back. His low growl makes me feel more alive than I have in weeks. I’m about to leave my room to go brush my teeth when Macon grabs my arm and spins me, shoving my back against the door.
“You think that’s gonna work?” he hisses, pressing his body into mine. I arch against him, my breath already coming in pants. He drags his nose up my jaw. “You think flaunting your tits is gonna change my mind?”
His tongue traces the shell of my ear, and I try to swallow a moan.
“I don’t know, Macon,” I say, then grab his erection. I squeeze lightly and he groans, thrusting his hips at me. “Seems like it definitely didsomething.”
He pulls back and shoves his hand into the front of my underwear, pressing his fingers hard onto my clit before moving down to circle my opening.
“Your tits aren’t special, Lennon,” he says, taunting me with his words and teasing me with his fingers. I squeeze his dick again, and he slips a finger into me. “I’d get hard for anyone’s tits. But do you get wet for anyone’s touch?”
He pushes a second finger into me and thrusts, using his thumb to rub on my clit. I fight like hell to silence a whimper, but I fail. To retaliate, I tug his sweatpants down and pull out his dick, swiping the precum off the tip and jerking his hard shaft in time with his thrusts.
“Your touch isn’t special,” I lie through my teeth as he pumps his fingers into me. He circles my clit, my thighs sticky and wet with my arousal. It makes me angry how responsive I am to his touch. I don’t want to want him like this. “I’m probably still wet from earlier.”
“Liar,” he growls, and I smirk.
He freezes, so I move on his hand and jerk him faster, using both hands this time. One to pump his shaft and one to massage the tip.
“I’ve already come twice tonight, Macon,” I lie again. “Are you going to give me a third?”
His expression is murderous. I squeeze him with my hands, then clench my inner muscles around his fingers. His lips part on a hard breath, and I’m emboldened by the power I have over him.
“Oh, Macon,” I moan, rocking back and forth on his hand and jerking him faster. “Please make me come again.”
His nostrils flare, fury blazing in his blue eyes. He wraps his free hand around my neck, pressing me against the wall harder.
“You want me to make you come a third time?” he forces out through clenched teeth and starts to thrust into me once more.
“The guy you fucked didn’t do it for you? It wasn’t enough, huh?” He punctuates each word with a circle of my clit, and I whimper. I can’t help it. He presses his cheek to mine, drags his lips to my ear. “You’re such a slut, aren’t you, Lennon? You need to come some more. You need me to make you come.”
“Mmmhhhm,” I force out, never losing rhythm with my hands.
“Beg for it, Lennon Capri,” he rasps. His voice is low, breathless. He’s teetering on the edge, just like me. “Be a good girl and ask menicelyfor your orgasm.”
Be agoodgirl.
