Page 102 of Sparks Fly
I shouldn’t be. But I am.
I wait a moment.
This is so fucking wrong.
The messages are delivering, but she hasn’t read them. Royce has probably taken her home.
I tug the roots of my hair.
Don’t go home with him.
What the fuck was I doing?
Please.
Oh my God. I have officially lost it. Begging my son’s ex-girlfriend not to go home with him, secretly hoping that she never said yes if he in fact asked her back.
I’m going to hell.
The fuck is wrong with me?
Tossing my phone on the bed, I pace for the door and tug it open. That’s when I see her. Standing there in front of me, wide eyed, hair a little wild, lipstick smudged, and I am fucking sick to my stomach.
“Do you know how fucking jealous I am?” I whisper, stepping forward so we’re toe to toe. Her head tips back as I look down at her.
“Clearly not jealous enough,” she whispers back and I growl.
Tugging her into my room, I close the door behind her.
“You have no right to be jealous though, do you?” Her chest rises and falls and her being here, like this, and that fucking dress. It’s killing me. It clung to her every curve, her full tits spilling over the neckline and I am feral for her.
“No.” I hover my hands over her hips, desperate to feel her under my fingertips.
“I’m not yours and you’re not mine.” I edge closer to her as the words spill from her mouth.
“That’s right.” My voice is more of a groan as our lips hover millimetres from each other.
Her breaths grow heavier, her eyes falling to my mouth, silently begging me.
“Royce asked for me back… kissed me…beggedfor me to be back in his life…” Her words are staggered and that’s when her eyes flick to mine. Her lips purse and I see the small gap between her two front teeth, and my jealousy hits its peak, but she’s not done yet. She’s not done getting me in a blind rage.
“Pleaded forone. last. night.”
I lose it.
My hands are clasping her face, tilting her face upwards to mine as I push her back against the door and a moan slips past her full lips.
“Love making me jealous, Ace?” I murmur against her mouth, and she smiles.
“It’s my favourite thing to do,” she whispers as I drag my mouth to her neck.
One hand curls around the base of her throat as I feel the way her pulse races beneath my fingertips.
“You’re a brat.” I nip across her collar bone, my hand wrapping around her hip, pinning her against the door.
“I am.” She grabs my head and drags my lips to hers, her body moulding against mine as she kisses me. Tongues entwined, our teeth clash as I uncurl my fingers from her throat and grab her cheeks, squeezing them ever so slightly and pursing those full fucking lips. Teasing my tongue across them, before I am dipping between them, and I know I am seeing this through.
There is no fucking way I am letting her walk out this door again without claiming her.
