Page 63 of Only With You

Thatwas so wrong.Itwas so wrong.

What the hell was I thinking?

I stop pacing, groan, squeeze my eyes shut, only to open them back up as images of what I just did during my shower play in my head.

I swear it wasn’t my intention. I swear I didn’t plan it. I swear I didn’t mean to come to the thought of Landon.

No, of course it’s not my fault. It’s all Eloise. She’s the one who planted the stupid picture in my head.

Covering my blistering face with my palms, I stand in the middle of my room, breathing raggedly, but feeling immensely sated.

I don’t know what came over me, but as I was about to shut the water off, a sick idea ran through my head. I was going to immediately shut it down until an ache in my core grew. Before I knew it, I was picturing El’s scene in my head.

I pictured the stupidly-hot veins on Landon’s hands and wondered what they’d feel like on me again. Then my thoughts got out of control. He had me bent over on the table, with my skirt above my ass, fucking me. But that wasn’t what set me off. What sent me over the edge was the sound of his voice and the words I’d imagined him saying to me.

Such a good, needy slut. Letting me use your body to pay for your tutoring.

It sounds so degrading and wrong on so many levels, but it’s the reason I had two fingers inside of me while I played with my nipples and came hard.

El didn’t add that last bit, but something inside my head took over and I went with it. Now, it’s consuming me and I’m getting turned on again.

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt and my breath hitches as three knocks come from the living room.

With heavy steps, I trudge down the hallway, and with a shaky breath, I open the front door.

I should’ve thought this through. I should’ve canceled. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to succumb to my traitorous, horny thoughts.

Landon stands on the other side of the door, face blank and lips flat, but not dry. I’ve never seen him use it, but something tells me he uses the Aquaphor Lip Repair I gave him.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to let me in?” Irritation marks his face, but then his eyes narrow and inspect my face. “Don’t tell me you’re not feeling well? The last thing I need is to get sick.”

Thank God he’s an asshole because I was getting carried away.

I give him a tight—fuck you—smile, leave the door open, and take my usual seat at the dining table. I wish I could say I walkedaway because of his shitty attitude, but really, it’s because I can’t breathe.

It’s like he sucked up all of the oxygen. My throat feels dry, my body feels sickeningly hot, and the spot between my thighs pulses with an uncontrollable need. I’m still too consumed in my degrading fantasy, and now he’s here, and it doesn’t help.

“I’m not in the mood for your childish games, Hollywood. Are you sick?”

I’ve been too caught up in my thoughts and hadn’t realized he was still standing by the door.

What’s wrong with me?

Grabbing my thoughts, I bury them as deep as I can and pretend like nothing ever happened.

“I’m not sick, but thanks for expressing your concern. So glad to hear that you’re worried for my well-being.”Shit, is my face still red?

He comes in hesitantly and sits next to me. His eyes track my movements, watching me with skepticism.

“I’m not sick, so stop looking at me like I’m thebubonic plague.” He called me that on New Year’s Eve. “I wouldn’t purposely let you come over to get you sick. I promise I’m not that big of a bitch, but if you’re not comfortable being around me, you can leave.”

“You’re not a bitch.” His soft voice has me almost falling out of my chair.

I force myself to breathe when my lungs burn and beg for air.

It’s dramatic, but his disdain for me is so strong. He’s called me a bitch once, and out of all the things he’s ever said, that one word always stuck to me.

So that word should be the center of my attention, but really, it’s the way his tongue pokes out and glides across his lips.

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