Page 57 of Eden's Deliverance

“You know it’s a simile, right? Doesn’t need a fact check,” I snip, flicking the ash from my cigarette in his direction.

Chuckling, he takes a step towards me.

Communicating from a distance is sort of our thing, so I’m caught off guard when he closes in until we’re only a few inches apart, pressing my back against the same wall Skylar cornered me at weeks ago.

“Well, maybe you can give me a fact check of my own.” His cologne smells of vanilla, citrus, and cedar—the scent enveloping me like a warm blanket as he hovers over me and whispers against my temple. “Skylar said you tastedlikehoney. Fact or simile?”

I’m fighting my body’s urge to tremble, intimidated by the overbearing presence of him. “He shouldn’t have told you that,” is all I can manage to say.

“No, he shouldn’t have.” I’m surprised by his rapid agreement until he clarifies, “It might have made me a little jealous though. Unless I’ve been reading your body language wrong, I thought you and I had…” He hesitates for a moment, waiting until our eyes connect again. “Similar interests.”

He’s not wrong.

There was the olive branch on Friday the 13th—his abnormal kindness, the vote of confidence, and an invitation to their friends’ party—and our bi-weekly smoke sessions at the tattoo studio. We’ve developed an oddly comforting camaraderie.

Julian invites me outside during his session breaks, where we make small talk and smoke while eye-fucking one another. Mostly, I stare at his mouth for the majority of the time until he catches me, usually flashing a naughty grin with his perfect fucking teeth.

It’s become a routine.

Julian is attractive, there’s no denying it. The problem is, fucking Skylar’s best friend won’t keep me off his radar, and I don’t need to give him any more of a reason to hate me.

But Julian’s looking down at me through his blonde lashes, eyes heavy with desire, and I can’t help but consider that maybe I don’t actually care what Skylar thinks. It doesn’t seem like Julian does either, because he inches forward slowly and brings a hand up to cup my cheek.

The kiss is soft and slow, yet still the perfect pace to show off his delicate skill. I have to bend my neck all the way back to accommodate his height, but he does most of the work. His lips are as delicious as I imagined, but before the shock dissipates enough for me to enjoy it…

“What the fuck?”

I pull away from Julian with a gasp, staggered by the interruption. Skylar is standing in the doorway, apparently just having finished whatever he was doing with impeccable timing.

The two of them aren’t focused on me, though. Skylar is a statue, hands balled into white-knuckled fists while he stares at Julian, who continues puffing on his cigarette like he hasn’t a care in the world.

Well, I have no interest in being anywhere near this.

I slide from the wall, rushing towards the door to squeeze around Skylar and make a beeline for my bedroom, not once looking back at either of them.

I really need to stop making a habit of getting horny at my dad’s house, because now it’s starting to look like a smorgasbord of men—all handpicked to my particular taste, and all mine for the taking.

I’ll settle for a shower masturbation sesh.

Call me a freak, but being surrounded by steam during an orgasm causes a lightheadedness that I chase like a high. That, on top of what the scalding water does to my sensitive skin, isn’t something you can find anywhere else. It’s a different kind of euphoria.

Unfortunately, the way I go about it is unconventional and not very comfortable. I’m crouched like a frog—one finger in my pussy, another in my ass—thrusting into myself with one hand while I rub my clit with the other. My head is thrown back against the wall, eyes closed as I imagine being fucked by two men.

It’s a rollercoaster; I allow myself to reach the crest of explosion only to shove it back down, prolonging the orgasm while the shower steam assaults my senses.For a brief moment, I open my eyes and see a shadowy figure standing on the other side of the glass.

The shower door slides open just as I rise to my feet, but before I can yell at the intruder, his hand is on my mouth. Skylar steps in and shoves me against the wall, my bare nakedness pressed to his fully clothed body.

He’s enraged.

I don’t see how, when he’s the one who’s invading my fucking personal time and space, but nothing he does ever seems to feel justified. I can’t do much but glare up at him, brow scrunched in frustration as I try to pry his hand from my face.

“Is that how it is now, you and Julian?” he asks. “Do you need me to say it? Do I have to fucking beg you?”

When I try to speak, he finally frees me. “What are you talking about? You want nothing to do with me, you proved that much at Thanksgiving. I pissed you off, and you were done.”

My hands slide down his forearm as he trails his fingers down my throat, stopping in the center of my chest.

“So you’ll just fuck my friend instead. Trying to get back at me?” He flattens his palm to my sternum, applying enough pressure to make the air feel heavier than it was before.

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