I sigh and scratch my left forearm as I step further away from the locker. I haven’t seen Nia since our little encounter outside her house 5 days ago. I don’t have her number, and visiting her café or her house seems a bit excessive. The latter has crossed my mind more times than I can count, but I’m not sure if she’d be okay with it.
I’ve fucked my hand one too many times thinking about her these last few days, but dammit, I need more. I feel dizzy just by thinking about getting to feel her skin against mine again, and to have her breaths stuttering for me when I touch her once more. And I know I’m working, but my dick doesn’t get the memo. A slight mention of Nia, and now I’m shamelessly hard behind my suffocating pair of stupid jeans.
“Cass?”
I turn, and smile when Amanda walks over to me. “Hey.”
“Taking a mental trip down memory lane, huh?” she asks with a knowing look on her face.
I chuckle. “Kinda, yeah.”
She touches my arm. “Me and a few of the producers are going to the nearest diner for breakfast. Come, join us.”
I rub my jaw as thoughts of Nia once again fill my mind. “How about a raincheck?”
Something flashes across Amanda’s features – something I can’t put a finger on – but she gives me a nod and moves away with a smile I know to be mostly forced. “I’ll see you at the B&B for the after-lunch shoot, then,” she says.
I give her a nod, a bit confused by her sudden change of behavior. “For sure.”
With another quick nod, she pivots on her heels and marches away.
I shake my head a little, wave at the crew who are wrapping things up in the corridor, then walk out of the hall and head towards the parking lot.
Remember how I mentioned not wanting to be excessive? Yeah, fuck that; I’m about to go be excessive as shit.
8. Nia
Iscratch the back of my thigh and yawn out loud like a cat ready for her life-renunciation. I then pull my lavender silk shorts down from between my legs, and when the doorbell rings for what could very easily be the 9thtime, I scowl and yell, “COMING!”
With the heater running in the living room, the temperature in the house is warm and inviting, which helps dissipate some of my annoyance towards whoever it is that decided to ring my doorbell today. Small mercies and all.
My alarm went off an hour ago, but because I’m an avid sleep-lover, I didn’t feel like leaving my bed and going to the shop today. And also because I’m exhausted from all the extra hours Noah and I have had to put in because of the increasing demand of coffee due to the weather here.
I unlock the door before opening it, and almost close it back again when I see Cass leaning against the wall to his right. With his dark jeans, blue crewneck sweater, and black leather boots, along with his piercing gaze and that effortless man-bun of his, he looks just as put together as I look disheveled.
As I shift on my feet and hope to God that he isn’t getting a first-hand whiff of my unwashed hair and damp armpits, he gives me a lazy once-over, then breaks into an amused grin when our eyes meet.
“Why do I always find you leaning against walls?” I ask him, just so things don’t get awkward the longer we stand and stare at each other. “Is this a style thing, or have you developed a hip problem or something?”
He puts his tongue to his cheek and narrows his eyes at me. “If I tell you it’s both, what then?”
“I’ll pity you, of course. But then I’ll shrug and shut the door in your face.”
“But why haven’t you shut the door on me already?”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me why you’re here,” I say. “And once you do, you’ll have itched my curiosity, and I’ll have the perfect prompt to close the door on you.”
“Wow; good morning to you, too,” he deadpans as he steps forward, then glances at my head. “I see we’re favoring the crow’s nest today,” he adds, making my nostrils flare.
“You–” I barely get a word out before he wraps his calloused fingers around my throat and takes my mouth in an unrelenting kiss.
I fist his sweater and try to push him back, but he grabs my ass in a painful grip and continues to fuck my mouth.
“Mmm…” I don’t realize it’smewho made that sound until Cass smiles against my lips and kisses me faster, harder.
“Have you been fucked in the ass, Nia?” he asks, his voice like sandpaper. He traces my face with gleaming, all-showing eyes. “Have you?”
I’m out of breath as I answer him. “That’s none of your business.”
