Ditching Greek | editing

10| Sticky Fingers

It took nearly every cell in my brain to move away from Clyde after he said those exact words. Those were words of a seductive person who wouldn't stop at anything; a womanizer at best. It was odd to see him that way since most of the times we interacted, which wasn't many times at all, he had backed off when he noticed my discomfort. Not now though. A fire was smoldering in his eyes, a heat that wasn't there before. Or maybe It had been there and I just never paid much attention to it until this very moment.

"I-I think you got the wrong idea," I stammered, keeping my eyes on his chest. I couldn't look him in the face, I just couldn't. "I'm not interested," I lied.

"Oh really?" I could feel him smirking. He just had to be. His voice was amused and light when he spoke, "Because your body language is telling me a completely different story."

Only using his finger, he lifted my chin and met my eyes with his. His lips quirked into a half smile and I couldn't help but feel limp under his hungry gaze. "Tell me to leave, and I'll go in a heartbeat...Do you want me to stay?"

I nodded, seeing that my body wouldn't let me do anything else. Speaking to him seemed impossible. I was too fixated on him and only him. It felt as if everything around us was simple background noise. The living room appeared as a blurry backdrop. 

Clyde was the only one in focus.

The finger on my chin slid down my arm and onto my knee, leaving it there as his thumb slowly moved in small soft circles over my bare skin. At that moment, I was glad I had chosen to wear my jeans that cut off above my knees.

"So, about that party," he went on, eyes still smokey and alive with something indescribable. "Do you want to go? I could pick you up around eight."

"That would be nice," I said in almost a whisper, my voice was so faint he had to move in a little closer to hear me. "What should I wear to this kind of party?"

He's a guy, like he'll fucking know, my thoughts snapped at me. The question had sprung out of me in the hopes of making small talk and to keep the conversation going. The more we talked, the less of a chance I'd cheat...maybe.

He grinned, "Preferably something easy I could take off."

I spoke too soon.

I wasn't sure what face I made, but whatever it was, it got Clyde laughing.

"I'm not that easy to get undressed. Buy me dinner first."

"I'm kidding, Nabela," he chuckled a bit louder and then looked me over, "The blouse you're wearing now looks good. You could wear something like this."

I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding in, "Okay, let's get one thing straight. I've no interest in being with you nor do I have any interest in going to that party of yours."

If anyone who properly knew me was in the room, they would've spotted out that I was lying easily. I paused in strange places when I lie.

"Tell me to leave then," he said for the second time around. "Tell me to never talk to again and to get out of your apartment." When he noticed my stillness, he loomed in closer, moving his cheek against mine. He angled his mouth against my ear, not saying anything at first, simply warming my skin with his breath chilling my flesh, making me flush and prickle all over my body.

"Nabela, it would be a good idea if you kicked me out right about now. As much as I'd love to stay and talk, I know I won't be able to keep my hands off you. It's not in my nature."

If I had much control over anything, I would do something--kick him out or move him away from me. But once again, I was frozen. Trapped. Hypnotized even. Lost in his gaze that seemed to hold something I wanted to have for myself, and only myself.

But I wasn't foolish enough to believe I could ever have a guy like Clyde. I knew guys like him, and before Brandon, I definitely dated a few myself. He was the kind of guy who changed the girl he was temporarily screwing  as much as I changed outfits in a week. One girl wasn't enough for guys like him. And even though I knew that all too well, I still let him hover his sweet lips over my ear, not speaking a word to me any more. Just standing very motionlessly.

And when he did begin to move, it wasn't his lips that was doing the action, it was his hands dancing over my knee, hiking up higher and higher up my leg. As if something beyond my control had started to consume me, I found myself opening my legs merely from his touch. He moved in happily further in between them, finally placing his mouth on me, running his full lips over my jawline, tracing it down to my chin, then joining his lips with mine.

In a matter of seconds, he had my jeans on the floor. 

I guess he lost practice, I thought.

My heart started hammering against my chest once more, the noise of it drowned out the sound of our heavy sighs and the whimper that came out of me once his fingers met the lacing of my panties. I groaned louder into his mouth, pushing against his hand.

"You like that," he said over my lips while touching me through the fabric. My body jolted a little. It felt like ages since someone had touched me like that. I was starving for human contact, and Clyde could tell by how I was reacting. 

I grabbed hold of his head with the both of my hands, running my fingers through his hair, "More." I begged.

I could feel him smiling against my lips.

"I'll give you more--"

The sound of someone banging on the door cut him off. Naturally, I would've ignored it. Hazel and Monica had a key, so it was probably Gideon coming back to collect Clyde. And there was no way in hell I was letting go yet.

But then another sound stopped me entirely.

The sound of my step-mother's voice.

"Nabela dear," her icy voice rang, "Open up."

Oh. Shit.

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