"Well, if you don't like it you can always go and find somewhere else to live."
Your cutting tone didn't go unnoticed. Van's eyes narrowed a little, the smirk falling quickly away but not for long. He folded his arms across his chest, fixing you wit...
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❤️🔥 Van's POV ❤️🔥
I'm lingering in that state just between sleep and wakefulness, that hazy realm where everything's soft and warm and cosy. I burrow my face into the pillow, closing my eyes, trying my hardest to shut out the reality that's threatening to intrude into my heavenly dream world. I've just been dreaming about Y/N, dreaming she was in bed with me, all soft lace and velvety skin, her delicious little moans and sighs travelling straight down to my cock which is achingly hard as I press my pelvis into the mattress, letting out a groan of pure frustration.
I could have quite easily stayed in that state for the rest of the day, languishing in my bed, my thoughts full of her. Her touch, her voice, her scent. In my mind's eye I had her pinned beneath me as she looked up at me breathless and needy, eyes heavy-lidded with lust and perfect pink lips parted to expel a sensual moan as I sank into her slowly. And she felt good... so goddamn good...
"Van mate! Got the kettle on. Wanna cuppa?" Bondy's voice is accompanied by a rap on my bedroom door, then his voice comes again when I don't answer immediately. "You awake yet?"
"I wasn't but I am now," I grumble, hoisting myself up to lean against the headboard. I frown as I look down at the bed-sheets tenting in my lap, my obvious arousal taunting me.
"How ya feeling today anyway?" My bedroom door's opening before I can protest and I quickly grab for a pillow to position strategically, embarrassed.
"How d'ya think I'm feeling? Like bloody shit."
"Head still hurting eh?" Bondy grins, more amused than sympathetic. "Or is it yer pride that's taken more of a blow?"
I force out a laugh but the truth is I'm struggling to see the funny side in the cold light of day. I mean yeah, the whole thing's certainly very humorous to an outsider. Getting caught spying on a girl you fancy in such a sneaky way, ending up sprawled in her flower bed in the middle of the night like some kind of weirdo? Lying blatantly to her face and making up a convoluted story in an attempt to spend more time with her but getting found out? Hilarious.
If it'd been Bondy caught up in the same predicament I'd have been creased over double with laughter and relishing winding him up about it at every opportunity. In fact I'd probably never let him live it down. But it wasn't Bondy. It was me. And I felt wounded about it.
"I wouldn't worry too much, she'll probably see the funny side of it eventually," my friend chuckles, leaning against the door frame.
"You didn't hear her," I grimace, recalling the furious look on her face as she'd told me I was a 'sneaky, lying piece of shit' before she'd manhandled me out of the door. "She was fuming! I swear I thought she was gonna swing at me. Said if she never saw me again it'd be too soon."
"It was a bit of a dick move," Bondy says, shaking his head, still smiling. "Whatever possessed you to climb her fucking flower trellis to snoop on her anyway?"
