Page 28 of Wicked Games We Play
“Lily, you’re not one to just call and chit chat. What’s the real reason that you’re calling me at—,” another low squeak of mattress coils, “—almost one in the morning. Drunk. What’s going on?”
I took a deep breath of air, filling my lungs while I pinched my eyes together tightly. Here goes nothing. “I was hoping you’d, um, want to come over.”
Noah was silent for a moment, before asking, “Are you horny, Lily?”
My breathing hitched, and I practically moaned at how husky his voice sounded. It made me feel sexy, and the effects of the vodka had me feeling brave. So I told him, “Yes. Are you going to come over and do something about it?”
The temptation to relieve some of the building pressure had my fingers twitching, but I held back, silently begging him to come over and spend these stolen hours with me. A low groan flowed through the speaker of the phone, and I bit my lip with excitement, anticipating him saying yes.
“I’m not your plaything, Flower. That’s not how this works.”
My heart plummeted. He denied me. Again.
“Seriously, Noah?”
“Seriously, Lily. I’ve told you many times that I’m not just going to fuck you. Not when you’re horny in front of me, and certainly not when you call me up at one a.m. like a god damn booty call. And a drunken booty call, at that.”
A flood of anger swept through me and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to make my words hurt as badly as he just had.
“Fine. Whatever, Noah. I’ll find someone else to come over and fuck me. I have plenty of matches on SparksFly.” Petty, but point made. I almost hung up on him to drive my point home, but I couldn’t bring myself to end the call.
The other end of the line was silent, but the rapid beats of my heart were loud in my ears.
“Who’s gonna fuck you like me, Lily? Hmm?” he purred into the phone. No, that’s not right. He growled into the phone, his words deep, I could practically feel the vibration from his vocal cords.
Still, his words infuriated me and my jaw went slack, mouth hanging open awkwardly, and I was thankful he couldn’t witness it. “You’ve never even fucked me, Noah.”
His dark chuckle echoed through the phone. “Exactly, and once I do, you’ll never be able to crave anyone but me. I’m going to ruin you Lily, in the best way possible, but that won’t be tonight. When I do finally give you my cock, you’ll finally understand why I’ve been so resistant to fuck you. I refuse to just fuck you. My cock is going to worship you. It’s going to be so deep inside of you, you won’t know where I end and you begin. Your voice will be hoarse from screaming my name over and over.”
“Noah, you are the most infur—” I began, my words growing louder.
“Goodnight, Flower.” The beeping of the phone signaling that the call had ended rang in my ears and only fueled my fire more.
My body quaked in anger, laying in my dark bedroom, denied and tossed aside by this man yet again.
Are you freaking kidding me?
Staring at the dark phone in disbelief, I gripped it until my hand throbbed and I could taste blood from the intensity with which I was biting my lower lip. I was more enraged now than I had been when he pulled me over or when he cornered me after work. For some reason, this made me feel… dirty. Maybe dirty wasn’t the right word. Maybe unwanted was a better term.
Yeah, unwanted.
For the first time ever, Noah made me feel unwanted, and I really, really didn’t like the feeling.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
You have to make her jealous. Rosie’s words floated through my mind again, and I was beginning to think there was some truth behind her madness. We were officially on a countdown. The clock was ticking. Four weeks and I would be gone for who knows how long. I needed to make her mine before I left. Ihadto. She was everything to me, and I desperately needed to know that she would be here when I got back.
Would she be?
Would she wait for me for a few weeks or months, like I waited for her for years?
At this point, the answer to that question would be no. I had to do everything I could to turn this around before I left for my detail. I just had to.
Two knocks on the top of my desk sounded, pulling me from the depths of my thoughts and snapping me back to reality. I looked up to find Wes standing in front of me, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You want your good news or your bad news, Whitlock?”
Jesus, fuck.
“I guess bad news first.” My fingers curled tightly around the pen in my hand, white knuckling it to where I could feel the plastic begin to crack.
