At first, I thought I could handle it, but after the second day, I realized that I couldn’t. Despite telling myself that I was going to give her all the time she needed, I still went ahead to check on her in her room.
I was hoping to speak with her that night to ask exactly what her problem with me was. However, by the time I got there, she was already fast asleep. I could’ve easily woken her up and demanded some answers. Yet I didn’t.
She looked so peaceful in her sleep, not to mention beautiful and desirable. The sight awakened something primal within me, and I felt my cock twitch in my pants. Her porcelain skin was simmering under the soft light, her hair spilling down her back in effortless waves.
She was wearing a white nightgown with one spaghetti strap hanging loosely from her shoulder. She lay on her side that night, her nipples poking from behind the fabric of her dress. The skin above her breasts caught my eye, hence the reason for the twitch in my pants.
My cock was so hard that night, and my heart was burning with lust. Staring at her in that state only accentuated my desire, tempting me to make a move on her. My eyes traced the gentle curve of her mouth and the endearing figure underneath that nightgown.
However, as horny as I was, I didn’t do anything stupid. I only leaned in and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. As ruthless and cruel as I was, I would never take a womanwithout her consent. And although I was guilty of so many crimes, rape was not and would never be one of them.
Now, it’s been two days since I visited her room, and I was already itching to speak with her. We hadn’t had that conversation the other night because she was asleep when I returned from work.
So today, I came home early. I took a shower, put on my cologne, and changed into a pair of joggers and a white singlet that clung to my body like a second skin. As if that wasn’t weird enough, I gelled my hair and combed it, making sure that I looked and smelled good.
EvenIcouldn’t understand why I felt the need to go the extra mile. It was Eva I wanted to have a conversation with, not the Queen of England. This had never happened to me before. I’d never had to try so hard to impress a girl.
Yet here I was, breaking my own rules for this girl.
After I’d gotten a grip of myself, I left my room, heading straight to hers. As usual, I pushed her door open and waltzed inside.
She was standing in front of her mirror with a white towel wrapped around her moist body. Her hair was damp, steam swirling over slick skin, hinting that she’d just stepped out of the shower.
The second she saw my reflection in the mirror, she flinched, and as a result of that sudden move, the folds of her towel gave way. The fabric slid down her body and pooled at her feet, leaving her almost completely exposed and naked, save for a pair of underwear.
“Jesus Christ, Demyon!” Eva snapped, her voice laced with anger and a hint of shame. “Learn how to knock!” She crouched, picking up the towel and wrapping it around her body. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just barge into a woman’sroom like that.” She glared at me, her fingers securing the folds in place. “Have you never heard of the word privacy before?”
“Relax.” I approached her with slower steps. “I didn’t get a good look anyway.”
Her scowl deepened. “Fuck you.”
My lips curled into a faint grin, and I raised my hands slightly. “I’m not here to fight.”
“Yeah, you’re here to piss me off, and you’ve succeeded. Can you go now?” The words tumbled out of her in a rush.
“I will,” I said. “After you’ve answered a few questions.”
Her breath hitched, and her throat bobbled, but she straightened her spine, maintaining a neutral expression.
I halted in front of her, my eyes boring into hers. “Why are you avoiding me?”
She rolled her eyes, her face a mask of defiance. “Why do you care? I thought men like you usually didn’t.”
“I’m the one asking the questions.”
She swallowed hard and clenched her jaw. “Wh—what do you want me to say?”
“The truth,” I replied swiftly. “Ever since we kissed—”
“Stop,” she cut me off, her expression shifting to something a bit more solemn yet vulnerable.
“Why? Does it bring back memories you’re trying to suppress?” I asked. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She turned around and began walking toward the closet.
“You don’t wanna talk about what exactly? The kiss?”
“Everything,” she answered without looking back.
