I don’t. have. feelings. for. Loxen.
The words play in my mind like a newly discovered mantra, but when he speaks again, his voice feels like a hand between my thighs.What is wrong with me?My emotions are running rampant tonight, and Loxen has a way of pulling every singleone out of me. Sadness, lust, anger, it all clashes together in a drunken haze, and I’m dying to find some sort of release to put me out of my misery.
“Why didn’t yourdatedrive you home?” His voice is sharp, every word clipped like he’s fighting to keep himself in check.
I roll my eyes, despite the way his words make my stomach twist. “You’re still on about that?” I ask, spinning to face him. Walking backwards towards my room, my legs sway with each step as he advances towards me. The lighting from the sconces casts shadows over his frame, making him look downright sinful.
“Yes,” is all he manages to grit out, and I laugh at his serious composure.
“I’m more than capable of walking home, Loxen. My legs work perfectly fine.” I playfully hitch my skirt up, exposing the soft flesh of my thigh and his jaw flexes.
“See.” I quirk a brow, taunting him.
“Verena,” he warns, voice low, but I don’t miss the way his eyes drink me in. Heat simmers in them, and the way he says my name sends a trail of heat up my neck. I may not have feelings for Loxen, butfuck, the alcohol in my system is screaming for me to climb that man like a tree. My back hits my bedroom door with a soft thud, and creaks open. Standing on the threshold, he catches up to me in two long strides, resting his hand on the doorframe. He looks down at me like he despises me, yet he’s intrigued by me at the same time. “It’s too dangerous to be walking in this town alone at night. Promise me you won’t again.”
I tip my chin up to him. “Careful, Lox,” I drawl, slowly pulling the strings of my corset loose, the alcohol fueling my confidence. “It’s starting to seem like you care about me.”
His biceps flex against the doorframe, and desire coils tighter inside of me with each second his eyes trail my body. When they meet mine, he looks haunted. “And what if I do?”
I swallow, loosening the last string enough that the violetcorset slips from my flesh. My heavy breasts bounce free, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “Then show me.”
Loxen’s eyes darken, but don’t waver from mine. To a stranger, he might seem unbothered. But in these few weeks, I’ve learned to see past his facade. The way his shoulders tense and his voice drops an octave when he’s irritated. The way his hands flex at his side when he hears something he doesn’t like, as if he’s resisting the urge to break something. And just like now, how he tries to look annoyed when I crack a smile, but his eyes always flick to catch it. Loxen’s chest heaves as I slowly inch my skirt down my hips, exposing the onyx lace underwear clinging to my skin.
“You’re staring,” I tease, smirking up at Loxen as I peel the skirt from my hips. I shouldn’t taunt him, but the alcohol is warm and heavy in my veins, loosening my tongue.
His jaw tightens. “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re predictable,” I shoot back, wobbling just a little. “Always putting on an act like you don’t care.”
“Don’t push me, little crow. I’ve never claimed to be an honourable man, and I may find your brazen tongue a far more dangerous use than taunting me.”
“Oh?” I let my eyes drag over him slowly. “What are you going to do? Glare at me harder?”
He steps past the threshold, and tension buzzes in the air.
“You know,” I say, slipping my thumbs under the waistband of my underwear, exposing my hips just enough to make his breath stutter, “I’m starting to think you like it. Me, annoying you. Getting in your head,” I tease.
His nostrils flare. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure I do.” I sway a little closer.
“Stop. You’re clearly over inebriated, Verena,” he grits out, his eyes darkening.
“Nope.” I pop the “p”, delighted by the way his composure shatters even for a moment. “I think you?—”
I awkwardly hop on one foot, trying to remove my panties in a slow and seductive manner, but instead fall to the side, grabbing hold of the bedpost for support before hitting the floor.
Embarrassment rushes through me. Loxen watches as I stumble my way to the mattress and sink down onto my plush comforter.
“You’re being a brat,” he says, stepping closer but not touching me, and I can hear the amusement in his voice by the show he’s witnessing firsthand.
“I-I’m not?—”
“This is all a game to you, isn’t it?” He smirks. “You think because you’re drunk you can do things that you’d never do when you’re sober.”
“I can do whatever I want,” I argue, tilting my chin up to him, though my voice is breathless.
Something inside me cracks open at the heat behind his eyes. I part my thighs for him slowly, watching hunger flicker across his face.
