Losers |H.S|

Chapter 8

I always win

His croaky voice still echoes through my mind.

Who does that cocky bastard think he is? Yes, he's extremely good looking, but his self-confidence is too much. And that annoying little arrogant smirk makes me want to slap it out of his gorgeous face.

After he left me gobsmacked with my mouth hanging open at that bathroom, I was actually panting, trying to comprehend what just happened. I realised that I was too overwhelmed by his actions, and I had no idea how I would manage to deal with him for the rest of the night.

So I ended up asking Layla to just call it a night with the excuse that I was feeling under the weather, which wasn't a complete lie, so I left Amethyst. And I didn't miss his little wink before I closed the door behind me.

Asshole.

Turns out my first instinct was right about him, he is way too arrogant. You can tell that even by the way he walks and sits like he owns the damn place. I am a confident person myself and I'll admit, his words actually hurt my ego. Well, more the fact that I didn't have a comeback and gave him the pleasure of seeing me speechless, but still.

And now I'm sitting crossed-legged on my couch drinking straight vodka, listening to classical music, which is supposed to be relaxing. Instead, I feel like I'm boiling in my own blood the more I think about him and his words. He always wins. Well I got news for you buddy, I'm not some fucking trophy for you to claim!

I must take control of the situation, especially since I'm gonna see him almost every fucking night now that his band is going to perform at the bar.

Attention, that's what he wants, and that's exactly what I cannot give him. God it pisses me off so much that he got under my skin so quickly, and it infuriates me even more that when I look into his eyes I feel that strange familiarity. Like I've already met him somehow and I can't remember. This is so fucking weird. Of course you haven't met him before you stupid moron, do you seriously think that you'd forget a face like his?

I need to calm down. I need to stop that right now.

I'm going to ignore him as much as I can. I can't let what happened in the bar today, or at that club yesterday, happen again. He's blinding me. He's bad news.

But fuck me, that bastard is so hot. His lips made me delirious and they barely touched mine. I couldn't stop thinking how those lips would feel sucking on my lower lip and biting into it until blood dripped out. How his biceps would spasm from keeping me up against that bathroom wall while fucking me hard, and how his cum would feel dripping out of me after.

And now I'm wet. Perfect.

"For fuck's sake", I sigh to myself. It's not considered giving him attention if he doesn't know it right?

Whatever helps you sleep at night, my subconscious jumps out mocking me.

I shift hesitantly on the couch and I can feel heat pooling between my thighs. I take off my jeans, not being able to control that burning deep inside of me anymore, and I push my panties to the side. I'm so wet just thinking about him that my underwear is soaked.

I dip my hand between my legs feeling the wetness of my center coating my fingers, and I instantly moan at the relief when I start circling my clit with my middle finger. I draw slow circles relishing the feeling while I close my eyes and picture him. I imagine his tongue licking and sucking my nipples while his long fingers would pump in and out of me with force, hitting my g-spot.

I moan louder this time feeling that familiar pressure becoming more intense by the second, and I push my middle and ring finger inside of me, not moving them in and out, but front and back. At the same time I use my thumb to stimulate my clit again. I'm throbbing, my body aches for him.