Page 105 of Midnights
I groan, wishing I could get her out of my head for even a second. But it’s impossible.
It took everything not to pin her against the counter and sink my teeth into her neck. The way she arched against me, pressing her ass back like she didn’t know what it was doing to me. Yeah, I nearly lost it.
And when she whispered,‘I'm not afraid of you’...I groan again.
Fuck.
I exhale sharply, rubbing my jaw, while frustration rolls through every inch of me. She has no idea that she’s been pulling a sleeping beast by the collar all fucking day.
I deserve a medal for holding back. Restraint of a saint here.
But the problem is, I don’t want to hold back. The way she pushes my buttons with that infuriating, smug little smirk, has every cell in my body tuned in to her and nothing else. I’ve never felt this kind of raw, unrelenting lust for anyone before.
I start pacing the room, trying to shake this restless, blistering need to do something, but it’s fucking useless.
Today has been a complete mindfuck. Too many close calls. Too many moments where I almost came clean. When they wandered into the greenhouse? Yeah, that was definitely one of them.
I scrub a hand over my jaw, knowing I should’ve shut this down earlier. But by then, I was already in too deep.
I exhale, shaking the thought away.
I pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Cam. Who, let’s be real, is probably doing anything but sleeping.
Me: This was a bad idea. Still with Rachel?
Cam: Nope, watching Netflix. Might just crash.
I roll my eyes. Bullshit. I hesitate, hovering over the screen before I type.
Me: Any news on the Owens’ shit?
Cam: … waiting on one thing to come back, then I’ll have your answers.
Are you going to have some fun with Raven?
I stare at the text, clenching my jaw. I type out my response and hit send without another thought.
Me: No.
Cam: Right.
Cam: ... make good choices
I move through the house, making a conscious effort not to make too much noise.
This is fucking ridiculous. Why the hell do I feel like a thief in my own house?
But here I am, tiptoeing around like an intruder, as if someone’s about to catch me red-handed.
On my way upstairs, I check the security system, make sure everything’s locked, running through the same routine I’ve had for years. It’s muscle memory at this point, but I double check, just to be safe. Especially after what happened earlier.
Once I'm in my room, I brush my teeth, and put a few things away. I can’t risk having too much downstairs and raising suspicion. The last thing I need is to out myself because I left a damn toothbrush in plain sight.
That would be next-level fucking idiotic. Security expert, exposed by a toothbrush.
Heading back down, I shake my head, chuckling quietly to myself. I really do feel like I'm sneaking around… what the hell has my life become, and why do I even care?
When I'm back in my room for the night, I sink into the chair by the window. I can feel the weight of the day settling in my chest.
