I could have said no. I could have pushed him away or put up at least some token resistance. Instead I turned into a whimpering mess while he jerked me off in the corner with only his bigger frame shielding us from view.
Heat gathers low in my body, and I shift uncomfortably in my chair as my dick perks up.
The really fucked up part of the night isn’t the semi-public hookup or even Xave circling me and fucking with my head when he did his stalker/disappearing act.
Nope, the fucked-up part is how much I enjoyed all of it. How every little tickle of fear amplified my arousal, and how hot it was knowing that out of everyone at the party, he wanted me.
I’m self-aware enough to know that I like being the focus of someone’s attention. I like being admired and looked at because people find me attractive. I didn’t realize that also extends to being stalked, and I had no clue that fear could be an aphrodisiac for me.
I’ve always been adventurous when it comes to sex and hooking up, but I’ve never done anything like what happened atthe party. Public sex was always a hard limit for me, and until the rave, and now the AV party, it was something I actively stayed away from. But not because I didn’t like the idea of it.
The truth is, I liked the idea way too much, and I figured it was best to just not indulge so I didn’t awaken any of the darker desires I know I’ve always had and have kept suppressed for a reason.
And I was right.
Hooking up with Xave at the party definitely awakened something in me, and so did all the filthy things he said in that too-sexy voice I’ll be hearing in my fantasies for years to come.
More heat curls inside me, and I try not to let it show on my face that I’m hard as rock and aching just from thinking about the things Xave said at the party.
Dirty talk has never been something I enjoy. I do it when my partners want me to, and I’m good at faking it, but it doesn’t feel natural. And it makes it harder for me to enjoy things because I spend so much of my energy playing a part that I can’t just let go and enjoy myself.
And the few times the girls I’ve hooked up with have flipped roles and broken out the dirty talk on me weren’t exactly awful, but they weren’t great either. I got off, but mostly because I forced it.
But with Xave… I had to force myself to not give in to every dirty demand and drop to my knees so I could taste him again. And I’m not positive I would have stopped him if he had bent me over and fucked me right there in front of everyone like he threatened.
“...it’s just not my style, you know?” West asks, his words breaking through my thoughts. “But I guess I should get used to that whole ‘happy wife, happy life’ thing, huh?”
“It’s your wedding too,” I tell him. “You should get a say in things. The day is supposed to be aboutbothof you.”
He shrugs and runs the tip of one finger over the rim of his nearly empty coffee cup. “I guess, but it’s easier to just go with what she wants.” He grins crookedly. “Besides, it’s not like I know anything about weddings or wedding planning. I’ll just mess things up if I interfere.”
I want to tell him that having opinions about his wedding isn’t interfering, and it’s not exactly a good sign for his upcoming marriage if his fiancée dismisses everything he says when it’s supposed to betheirday, but I just nod.
West is a lot like me when it comes to opening up to people, and after six years of friendship, I know that saying anything negative about McKenna or their wedding planning right now will just set off his defenses.
He’ll get to a point where he’ll be ready to hear what I have to say, but he’s not there yet, and pushing him will just create a rift between us.
“So,” I say instead. “Did you get to do a cake or menu tasting when you were at these venues?”
He grins and launches into a detailed description of the different foods he got to sample while I focus on listening and not zoning out again.
I’ll have plenty of time to obsess over everything later.
The hairs at the back of my neck stand on end the moment I walk out of The Stacks, and I resist the urge to look around as the familiar feeling of being watched settles over me.
I’m so used to this that it feels normal now, and I already know that I won’t see anything if I check, so there’s no point bothering.
West and I say goodbye at the door, and I head toward the path leading to my dorm while he goes in the opposite direction to meet up with McKenna.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I walk down the path and make my way back to Romeo House.
I have to admit that I’m in a better headspace after hanging out with West, and even though I still feel like shit for lying to him, it was nice to spend some time together.
I know he’s busy and has a fiancée to prioritize, but it sucks that I barely see him anymore unless it’s at the house, and even then, he’s not around most of the time. We’ve never been the type of friends who chat every day and spend all our free time together, but this is the first time in weeks that we’ve gotten to hang out just the two of us.
I’ve always been a solitary person, but lately, solitude is beginning to feel a lot like isolation.
Shaking off those melancholy thoughts, I veer off the main path and head down one of the smaller, lesser-used ones.
