I stare up at the ceiling, unsure where to go from here. Technically, she’s with someone else, and I just made her come. What does that mean? I know I told her she’s always been mine and always will be, but where does she truly stand with Evan?
I roll my head to the side to talk to her, but she heads to the bathroom, her mouthwatering body swaying with every step.
I pinch my brow, disappointed in myself, but also fucking satisfied that I could make her come just from nipple pleasure.
What the fuck are you doing, Keller?
She appears in the doorway of the bathroom, and when I glance in her direction, she tosses a wet washcloth at me and says, “Clean yourself,” before disappearing.
“Christ,” I mutter, as I wash my stomach.
What did you just do, you fucking moron?
* * *
If I thoughtshe hated me before last night, I was fucking wrong, because Jesus Christ, does she want to murder me today.
After she came out of the bathroom from cleaning up last night, she went to her side of the bed, gave me her back, and didn’t say a word. The entire night, she must have put up some sort of invisible wall, because she didn’t accidentally bump into me one time. It was as if I was diseased, and she made it her mission to cling to the edge of the bed.
And when I woke up this morning, she was already out of bed, clanking around in the kitchen and making such a ruckus that it was impossible to get back to sleep.
When I approached her in the kitchen, she sarcastically asked if she was too loud, then clanked a pan against the stove. I just moved around her, took the pan, and made us some eggs with spinach and mushrooms. She ate out on the patio.
I ate at the dining room table.
And now, she’s out on the beach, basking in the sun naked, while I sit on the couch, watching over her, wondering how the hell I navigate this mess.
She’s mad at me.
I’m mad at her.
And there doesn’t seem to be a platform to bridge the gap.
I lean back on the couch and push my hand through my hair, frustrated, tired, mentally exhausted. This would be so much fucking easier if my mind was sharper. If I didn’t feel like I was constantly trying to solve the world’s hardest problem when it comes to simple tasks. I never realized how much I’ve been running on adrenaline and sheer willpower until now. I’m fucking shocked I was even able to fly a plane down here because my mental clarity is shit.
The sliding glass door opens and Lilly appears, a towel around her torso, hair loosely in a messy bun on the top of her head, a few tendrils framing her face.
Fuck, she’s so goddamn hot.
My mind immediately transports back to last night, with her between my legs, playing with her nipples until she came. It never gets old, seeing her come apart like that from just my hands. I’d do that every night if I could.
“Stare much?” she says, breaking into my thoughts.
I meet her gaze. “I did bring you clothes, you know.”
She lets her towel drop to the floor and walks over to the kitchen. “Yes, but walking around naked irritates you, so why would I put clothes on?”
“It’s not smart to irritate me, Lilly.”
“Why?” she asks as she bends over, her ass and pussy on full display as she reaches for a drink in the fridge. When she stands and faces me, those delicious nipples of hers hard as stone, she says, “It’s not like we’re a couple or anything. It’s not like you have the right to sit there and tell me what I can and cannot do.”
I run my tongue over my teeth, knowing she’s trying to get under my skin.She’s doing a perfectly good job at it.
“Let me ask you this,” she says as she walks toward me. “When you were out fishing on your boat”—she stands in front of me and my hands itch to reach out to her—“did you even consider what I might be feeling?” She places one foot on the couch next to me, her legs spreading, drawing my eyes down to her pussy.
“When I was away, I thought about you every second,” I answer as I wet my lips.
She moves in closer and places one of her hands on the back of the couch, right next to my head. I go hard immediately.
