Page 73 of Adrift

I can feel the blood inside my veins pumping as my heart rate spikes, looking at Rani’s closed door and it strikes me.

She has no clue. She didn’t read it.

It’s the reason she gave me the cold-shoulder all evening and flinched at my touch. Because she thought–no, she believed–I’d be a jackass to her on purpose, even after we broke down all the walls between us last night.

It confirms the little faith she has in me, but even more so, in herself. In her ability to affect me. In her ability to have me at her fucking mercy.

I knock on her door as conflicting thoughts about whether I’m doing the right thing or not battle with my need to see her. To touch her, to hold her, and to fucking kiss her. To tell her that she’s an idiot if she doesn’t realize that she’s not the only one at risk of getting hurt in this.

Because she has the power to undo me completely.

I hear her footsteps behind the door before she lingers at the doorknob. A few seconds later, her door swings partially open. She’s wearing another pair of sleep shorts with a black tank top. My eyes skim over the gold lettering that says, I wear glitter because I was born to sparkle. Her wild hair is secured in a knot on top of her head with a few stray curls framing her face. And even though she looks wounded and irate–much the same as I feel–I have to physically hold myself back from ravishing her with my hands and mouth.

“Yes.” Her eyes stay on my chest, not meeting mine.

“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?”

“I’m not. Good night, again.” She goes to close the door, but I put my palm against it, stopping her.

I grit my teeth, feeling the ends of my rope unravel. “Rani, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what the hell I did to deserve you acting like a brat, I’ll–”

“You’ll what, Darian?” She crosses her arms over her heaving chest. “You’ll ignore me all day again? You’ll not have the decency to call me to tell me you’ll be at your mother’s for dinner? You’ll sneak out of the house everyday before you have to see me again? Is that what you were going to say? Well, save it. I’ve had front-row seats to that show, and it sucked.”

I shake my head, chuckling incredulously. “You’re really something.”

“No.” She purses her lips, her eyes glassy. “I’m clearly nothing, Darian. I thought I was something; I thought we were something–especially after last night–but I was wrong.”

My pulse pounds inside my ears as I stare at her. “Let me ask you something. Did you have coffee today?”

She squints at me as if I’ve grown horns on my head. “What? What is wrong with you? Are you attributing my irritation with you to my lack of coffee? I get that you don’t drink caffeine–which is crazy in itself–but that is not how it works. I am not angry because I didn’t have my daily coffee; I’m pissed because you’re an asshole!”

I take in a deep breath, not knowing how much longer I can hang on to the tiniest shred of my patience. A part of me wants to laugh, while the other wants to slam her against the wall and kiss her into submission. “Rani, for the love of God, I’m asking you a simple fucking question. Did you go downstairs to have your coffee today?”

She throws her shoulders back, giving up on arguing. “No. I had a cup at the nursing home.”

“Then why don’t you fucking strut your sweet ass downstairs now and find the coffee I brewed for you this morning. Perhaps you’ll find whatever else it is you’re looking for.”

With that, I stalk out of the hallway and to my room, barely holding myself from ramming my fist into the wall.

* * *

The streams of warm water massage my back and trickle down my shoulder and chest. I probably have it running hotter than I should, but fuck, I’ve been running hotter than I should. The burn against my skin, creating red patches on my shoulders, feels better than the burning inside my chest. I take that as a win. I’m scalding from the inside out, the scorching water my only reprieve.

The glass shower fogs up with thoughts about the woman who has overthrown my self-control and ousted my sanity. Her words ring around my head. I’m clearly nothing, Darian.

If she only knew.

Her fucking insolent mouth and the defiant tone she flung at me, like a scared and hurt kitten, ready to scratch the hand of anyone who tried to get close, has me raging. But it also has me wanting to see her on her knees with that luscious mouth wrapped around me.

My length hardens at the thought of her pouty, thick lips pursing as she glared at me from head to toe, her arms wrapped across her heaving chest. I’ve thought about her tits so much over the course of the past few weeks, I’ve wondered if I’m possessed.

I take my dick in my hand and stroke it from base to tip, and it thickens almost painfully as memories of my mouth devouring her heat come streaming back. She was so responsive, so perfect, so delicious. Within seconds, I’d had her warring against herself, teetering between maintaining composure and surrendering control. Even when I knew all she wanted to do was cry out and just ride my face with abandon, she held on as long as she physically could.

But I reveled in the moment she let go.

Fuck, she tasted sweet, just like I knew she would. Even just the thought of her coming on my tongue has me pulling on my erection harder.

And then, a movement past the bathroom door I’ve left ajar has my eyes shifting. They lock on to the voluptuous woman who’s just entered my room.

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