Page 19 of Chalk Outline
“Use your imagination and touch yourself.” He says nonchalantly as he moves past me, and I keep my clenched fist at my side because if I don’t, I’m going to punch him in the face.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.”
I run after him and pull his wrist until he faces me. “You don’t get to dictate what I do or with whom.” I push my leg between his and kick him behind the knees, bringing him down to the floor.
Confused, he misses the chance to stop me before I flip him down and lock his head inside the T my arms create against my chest.
“I don’t plan to,” he spews words out as I choke him more. It takes him a few more seconds to escape my hold and flip us over.
“Good, because I’m inviting someone over,” I whisper against his lips. A spark ignites within me. I’m completely captivated by his heated gaze and the lust radiating from his body.
“No, you’re not.” He declares, pinning my hands above my head.
I press my lips to his nose and kiss him as a distraction before I yank my hands, crawl underneath him to the side, and straddle his hips as I throw him on his back again. “Yes, I am.”
His face hardens, flooded with guilt and anger. I will face the consequences later, but his body responds to me, enjoying the feeling of us wrapped around each other. I know he is lonely. He never says anything about it, doing his job quietly and sufficiently, but I wish he could see how lonely I feel in this house, too.
I just want a friend.
It’s not even about sex; I just use it as an excuse to rile him up.
“Who is he?” He demands an answer, bucking his hips up—the bulge tenting his pants rubs against my center—I completely lose focus before I’m tossed on the side, hands cuffed behind my back. My shirt hikes up, and the cold floor touches my exposed skin, but he adjusts it as if seeing me like that is out of the question.
“None of your business,” I drawl, thrashing against his arms and biting him at every chance I get as we continue sparring on the floor—I know that’s cheating, but who cares?
His body feels like a sacred temple against my soft curves. The heat envelops me. We switch positions in sync. It all stops when we gaze into each other’s blown-out pupils. They flash like headlights so brightly it’s almost blinding. For a few moments, he gives in and stares back at me with something inexplicably soft.
“Why do you refuse to let me in?” I ask, desperately needing a friend. I thought he understood that after spending months by my side.
In the blink of an eye, his brows furrow, and he frowns. He loosens his grip, and we pull ourselves back up, tensely staring at each other’s movements.
He grinds his teeth, “Stop playing games,” and runs his fingers through his dark pile of hair. I hate it when he makes me feel like I’m hallucinating things. Our attraction is not one-sided, and he knows it.
“There’s a guy in my class. He’s been asking me out for a while now, and I decided to give him a chance.” I pant out the words, hating him even more for always standing in the middle of everything when he resists me, but gives me false hope.
“I knew I should’ve knocked out that college kid from English class a while back to deliver the message,” he murmurs.
“You know everything about my life, and I know nothing about yours.”
“It’s my job.” His throat bobs with a thick swallow of his lies. “You know the rules. Before anyone walks inside this house, we run a background check. A weekly check. I need to know what they ate for lunch, where they parked their car, if they drink too much coffee a day, and their last STI result. Hell, I need to know their poop schedule.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That’s kind of gross.”
“I don’t care.” He forces a grin. “No one is getting inside.”
“Fine. Then I’ll go out.” I grin back.
His eyes tilt up to the ceiling as he dramatically drags his hands over his face. “Why do you fight me every single day like we’re in some kind of secret war?”
I shrug. “I’m not. I’m trying to make your job a lot easier.” Maybe he shouldn’t be my bodyguard anymore.
“Wrong.” His voice is low and harsh.
“How so?” I bring my hands to my waist and hug myself under his rough expression.
“You were born to make my life so much more difficult.”
