Twisted Obsession

27 - Delacroix

Athena Luciana Bianchi

I knocked softly on Lorenzo's bedroom door, the quiet thud barely audible over the hum of the house. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing Lorenzo freshly emerged from the shower. He stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, another draped around his neck. Water glistened on his chiseled chest, tracing a path down his abdomen and disappearing into the towel. The sight was enough to make my pulse quicken.

I stepped into his room, the cool air contrasting sharply with the warmth of his freshly heated body. My hand brushed against his damp chest as I passed, my fingers lingering and trailing down his torso. He shivered slightly from the contact, though his expression remained nonchalant.

"Did you get a chance to talk to your brother?" I asked, my voice light and casual, yet edged with the undercurrent of anticipation. My eyes followed him as he moved across the room, heading toward his closet.

"Not yet," Lorenzo replied, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. He began rifling through his wardrobe, pulling out clothes while I took a seat on his bed, feeling the soft, luxurious fabric under my fingers.

I shifted my attention to his nightstand, a small treasure trove of personal items. I opened the drawer, my fingers delving into the chaos of condoms, chargers, and various odds and ends. My aim was to find some cigarettes, but my search quickly became a frustrating scavenger hunt. "What? Did you quit smoking, Lorenzo?" I called out, my voice tinged with disbelief and mock.

His response was almost lost amidst the rustling of fabric as he dressed, pulling on black lounge pants and a fitted black shirt that clung to his torso, highlighting every sculpted muscle. I could feel a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Yes, I quit," he said, a note of annoyance lacing his tone. Just as I was about to give up on finding the cigarettes, he walked over, holding out a lighter and a fresh pack of cigarettes.

I took the pack with a smile, my eyes meeting him with a hint of mischief. "Well, aren't you a good little boy?" I chuckled, slipping a cigarette between my lips and lighting it with practiced ease. The thin curl of smoke drifted upward, mingling with the subtle scent of his cologne.

He moved to his desk, his movements graceful and fluid. I watched as he settled into the chair, his posture relaxed but still exuding an air of confidence. The black shirt he wore accentuated his physique, and I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on the way it hugged his body. It was both alluring and frustrating.

I took a long drag from the cigarette, savoring the taste and the moment. The smoke swirled around me, adding to the intimate, almost forbidden aura that seemed to envelop the room. Lorenzo's eyes flickered up, catching mine with a blend of curiosity and something else—perhaps anticipation.

"What, Lorenzo?" I asked, exhaling slowly. He shook his head.

As Lorenzo turned his attention back to his desk, I took another drag from my cigarette, feeling the tension and unspoken desires crackle in the air. The room seemed to pulse with an electric charge, and as I watched Lorenzo focus on his tasks, I couldn't help but wonder how this would all unfold. The balance between our professional and personal dynamics was so delicate, but in this space, every touch, every glance felt like a promise of more to come.

A knock on the door interrupted our thoughts. After a second, Riccardo peeked his head in. "You wanted to talk?" His voice was clipped, betraying a hint of impatience. His gaze flickered between Lorenzo and me, settling briefly on the array of documents spread across the desk.

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes hard. "Yes."

Riccardo nodded, stepping further into the room. Elliot followed behind, with his encrypted laptop. They take a seat on the sofa.