The Summer Before

Chapter Five

Levi

I stormed out of the bathroom, still reeling from whatever the fuck just happened.

Seriously, what the hell was that?

One minute I'm geared up for another round with that chick from last night, and the next, I'm staring at the one person I never thought I'd see naked again. I can't believe I didn't recognize her. Sure, we only shared one night last summer, but I'd watched her for years, memorizing every curve, every dimple, every movement. I should have recognized her.

I used to think she was perfect, that she was tailor-made just for me. Every chance I got, I'd search her out, even just to catch a glimpse of the artwork that was Tessa Rhodes. Every inch of her drew me in. Everything about her sent waves of electricity through me. I guess that much hasn't changed, physically at least.

I slam my bedroom door behind me, leaning back against it, hoping to steady my breathing. I'm still wet from the shower, and my blood still hasn't returned to my brain. Looking down, I see my traitorous erection still standing, giving a full salute to the siren I left in the shower.

No. Not happening. I'm not about to jerk it to the memory of what I just saw, how she felt under my hands...

The instant replay of what just happened races through my mind as I fight the urge to relieve myself. I won't do it. I won't set myself back like that. It took too long for me to stop molesting myself to the thought of her, even after what she did.

Even after she broke me, I could only find relief thinking of her- of what we shared that summer. It's sad, I know, but it's true. She's my freaking kryptonite, but I'll be damned if I let her know that.

I curse myself as I push away from the door, throwing myself backward onto my bed. No way am I going back out there until this thing goes away. I lift my head up, peeking down.

Fuck!

It's only getting worse. I need to take care of this before I give myself blue balls. Damn her!

I let out a groan of defeat, deciding to quickly take care of my throbbing dick before I become more miserable. My mind goes back to last night, focusing on the girl I brought home as she tore off her clothes and pounced on me.

I grip my shaft, slowly working up and down, picturing everything I can remember from our roll in the sheets. I'm thrusting into her as her legs expertly grip my waist. Her skin is soft and silky as I run my hands up, grabbing her full tits. Her D cups bounce with every jerk of my hips. Her dark hair cascades around her like a halo, and those eyes...

Fuuuck, those eyes make me weak in the knees. Emerald orbs sear right to my soul as I feel her walls hug my dick like a glove. We were made for each other.

Her mouth falls open as she calls out my name. Mmm, I love that sound. I start to move faster, letting myself get lost in her until I feel her clench around me. Her soft voice cries out in ecstasy, making me spill into her as I scream her name. Tessa!

I feel the warm liquid as it spills into my hand, setting free the release that I so desperately needed. My breathing is ragged as I come down from my high, realizing what I just did. Son of a bitch!

I could have stopped any time; I knew as soon as I saw her body that it wasn't the girl from last night. I knew those boobs were too full, her hair was too dark, and those eyes... Dammit, those eyes.

They steal my breath away.

I still remember how she felt, how she tasted, how she sounded. Every. Single. Detail. It's burned into my brain, branded into my body. I can't escape.

As my mind relaxes, I can see clearly for the first time in a long time. I hate that. She still has that power over me. Every other release has been lackluster compared to her, even if it's just my hand and me. If I think of her, I come like I did that night, and everything seems right in the world.

That's why I forced myself to stop thinking of her in those moments. I didn't want her to have that power anymore.

I guess there's just no escaping it.

She still owns me. No matter how badly I wish it weren't true...

I remember what I said to her in the bathroom and how I acted. I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to feel slighted. And if the look on her face when I said my peace was any indication, I hit my mark. I think she felt my venom with that last statement.

Mission accomplished.

But why do I feel like such an asshole? She cut me far deeper last summer. She should feel at least a fraction of that pain, right? She should see who she's turned me in to. I'm no longer the guy she knew growing up. She turned me into an uncaring, detached asshole with no feelings or empathy for others.

If that's true, why did it hurt to see that look on her face when my words cut right where I wanted them to?

I stand up, cleaning up my mess before crawling back into bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I groan. How the fuck am I going to survive the next two weeks?

It's clear that even a few minutes around her is enough to rattle my cage. What the fuck am I going to do living with her for two weeks? Let alone having her attached to my arm as we walk down the aisle together for Jason and Charlotte on their wedding day.

If this morning is any indication, one thing is for sure...

I'm screwed.