Connect Us ✔

Chapter 58

I barely ate anything today, which is why just one beer hits me like three would. I hear the music and close my eyes. For a moment, I can almost imagine I'm in a club—just me, the rhythm, and nothing else. I can forget everything for a while. The only thing that matters: doing something I'm good at, something I can't really mess up.

Blair just stands there, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, sipping from another glass of wine while piercing me with his gaze, looking quite amused. I don't even take off my jacket until I start sweating and throw it off. Well, who would have thought I'd end up as a stripper.

I feel his body behind me. My movements slow down as I feel his breath against my ear and hear him murmur hoarsely, "I didn't tell you to stop." The change in his voice completely dazes me.

I feel the warmth of his lips on my neck. I tilt my head to the side, the music forgotten. Why does this suddenly feel so good? A gentle heat spreads through my stomach and lower. His lips trail down to my shoulder as he pulls the fabric of my T-shirt down just a little. Slowly. Everything moves in slow motion, and I'm completely giving in. His arms slide around my waist and pull me softly against his chest.

My stomach twists, and I decide to shut these feelings down. This is all getting a little too intimate for me. I mean, I can admit I don't hate Blair anymore, but it's not like I'm in love with him. I turn around and grab him by the collar, but instead of letting me kiss him, he moves away. 

"Oscar," he warns, dodging away.You ask my permission before you touch me.

I don't give a fuck what he says, what he thinks, or what he wants me to do. I press my lips to his neck, sucking on his skin. I feel powerful when he raises his chin and lets out a deep breath. He's really turned on. I can't be the only one. The way he's breathing, the way his throat vibrates under my lips when he moans—he wants me just as much as I want him. I'm sure of it.

His hand rests gently on the back of my head, as if he's afraid I might bite into his throat. "Enough," he breathes.

He opens my jeans, and I take them off in a hurry. I'm still in my underwear when he grabs my thighs and lifts me as if I weighed nothing. My legs wrap around his waist as he presses me into the wall. He rubs his hips against mine, pinning me there, his strength making my breath catch.

It happens automatically, like a reflex. I hold onto his neck, my arms wrapped around him like I'm scared of falling. This grip around him feels so cliché that I actually hold my breath, but I can't deny what I'm feeling. The way he's holding me? It's like his body says I've got you in every damn way. And hell—he must be strong to hold me like that.

I lean back a bit, just to look into his eyes, and a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. My voice comes out low, almost like a murmur. "Dude, if you hold me like that, I might actually fall for you."

He scoffs. "Don't make me let go."

"Wasn't planning to." My gaze flicks to his lips, then back to his eyes. For some reason, I don't want to admit to myself that there's this tug in my chest.

I grab the back of his neck and kiss him. His breath catches against my mouth before he kisses me back—rough and hungry, like he's been holding it in for too long. My fingers tighten in his hair, and the sound that escapes him sends heat straight through me.

I don't even realize how weak I am until he steadies me, pressing against me like he can feel me slipping. I pull him closer, my hand at the back of his head. More... I want more of him. I feel the heat of him between my legs, hard against me.

I flinch at first when his cold hand slips under the fabric, then melt right into his touch when his finger slides inside. My mouth is open, forming a moan but I stop breathing instead.

"Hold me," he breathes on my lips and I wrap my arms tighter around his neck. I start trembling as he moves his fingers. In a way that makes me loose my freaking mind. My head falls to his shoulder with a sigh.

My legs go so weak that I can feel them slowly slide down around his waist. I can't hold myself up anymore. I cling to his neck. "I... can't..."

He stops. He adjusts me, lifting me a little higher to change his grip, to hold me tighter, safer. It feels as if my limbs are just hanging from him, all strength gone from me.

He throws me on the bed and I take off my underwear, my hands trembling. He braces himself over me, leans over to the drawer—this time with lube, he slides his fingers inside. God damn it, he shakes his fingers inside me as if he's just trying to make me loose it. 

I close my eyes and let my head fall back into the pillow, breathing unevenly. "Shit..." My fingers crawl into his biceps.

"You like that?"

My eyes flutter open, and I stare at him, breathless and sweaty. "No, I hate it."

Blair's hair falls into his face as he laughs on a breath. "Sure sounds like it."

"Shut up."

He braces his arms on either side of me, caging me in. "Turn around."

I try to sit up. My arms buckle. With one swift motion, Blair turns me around by my shoulders, and my face buries into the soft sheets that smell of fresh detergent. My breath comes shallow, chest pressed against the mattress as I sink into it, limbs weak and heavy.

"Don't move. We're continuing right where we left off."