Steal My Girl (One Last Time #2)

Happily Held Hostage

Chapter Thirty Four
Happily Held Hostage |Day Three in Hospital|

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I momentarily hear him let one small shaky breath leave his lips, perfect.

Just like I thought he'd do.

This is the last time Talia or Conrad expect something out of me. "There . . . There's nothing," he pauses, "stop, no, Melody."

"Tell me," I say pulling out my hand, reaching for his zipper. I pull it down. Going for the button next.

"There's nothing- she did nothing." He immediately turns around, making me lean onto him. Shit, this isn't supposed to happen. I'm vulnerable to his features now.

Grab his pants, my mind plans. You can't give up now.

With my close proximity, I reach for the edge of his pants by his hips. Continuing to slip one, two fingers in a few centimetres within. I hold his waist from inside his pants. Keeping my eyes looking only at his green ones. "Melody, stop, this is wrong."

"So when you do it it's fine?"

"Mel," he expels a shaky breath into my face, his breathing patterns shattering. My hands moving frontwards. I hold the hem of his jean with both hands.

He keeps his gaze only on mine, terrified to look elsewhere.

I kiss his chest, looking up at him. "Tell me or this will never stop."

My pleasure for his discomfort.
Shit. No wonder he does this so often with me.
It's so fun.

***

"Tell me or this will never stop."

I don't know what to do, her lips are on my chest. She's using my own techniques against me. Slipping her lips in between my collarbones.

Fuck.

"Stop," I say, "I'll tell you."

"Good boy," but she continues. She's enjoying this. The freedom to touch me without hesitation- without discomfort.

But it'll hurt her if I tell.

"Melody," I reach for her waist, wanting to get her lips off me. But she grabs them, like I did, but with both hands because hers isn't big enough. But she doesn't hold them.

She manoeuvres them behind my back, pushing me against the wall with her body in just a oversize towel. So easily I could unravel and so easily I could have her begging for mercy against the sink.

She has no idea what I'm capable of.

"Conrad," she whispers, slipping her hands to my chest. Her fingers tracing the lines on my abdomen. "If you don't tell me, I'll . . . " she trails off, thinking.

"Kiss you," I finish for her.

She smirks, her eyes twinkling, "worse. Yet better, for me."

I want to chuckle, she wants this, she likes not being the one against the wall. Showing me that she's effected. But I don't, I force my emotive down. Keep a straight face going. Numb myself from her touch. But I can't do that.

Her touch is too much to control.

My heart accelerates. "You want to know what happen to you and Jack?" She nods, happy she finally got her way.

But I'm not stopping at an explanation. She forced this upon herself. Touching me, unnerving me. Tempting me.

She should've known better.