The Womanizer

Chapter 58: Toxicity

**play Toxicity by Systems of A Down when you see (*) for a better read

————————————————

Malibu- Los Angeles

"Please, Lauren,"

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it. Just... just let me go. I promise I'll stay away. I'll—"

"Lauren please. I'm begging you, please,"

"Here comes the airplane," Camila teased, her voice light and playful as she moved the fork in the air, mimicking the sound of a propeller as if Lauren were a stubborn toddler. Lauren sent her a dirty look, her green eyes narrowing, but the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth to accept the food, the taste of the pasta rich and savory, exploding on her tongue.

Camila had decided to play chef for the day, whipping up dinner from scratch, and the sight of her standing in the kitchen had been almost too much for Lauren to handle. She looked every bit the perfect housewife, which only made the ache between Lauren's thighs throb harder. The red sundress she wore clung to her curves, its fabric hugging her hips and accentuating her waist, making her look like a goddess brought to life. The little apron she had tied around her waist only added to the image, her hair swept up in a messy bun with a few tendrils framing her face. As Lauren watched Camila move around the kitchen, the sway of her hips, the way her bare legs peeked out from beneath the hem of the dress, she felt her control slipping. It drove her insane, the domesticity of it all mixed with the raw sexuality that Camila exuded without even trying.

Every time Camila bent down to check something in the oven or reached up to grab a spice from the top shelf, Lauren had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from dragging Camila over to the table right then and there. Her thoughts were filled with fantasies of Camila spread out on the kitchen table, the sundress bunched around her hips, Lauren's hands gripping her thighs as she took what she wanted. The image was so vivid, so consuming, that Lauren barely tasted the food on her tongue. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in a loop of desire, every little movement Camila made feeding the fire that burned hotter with each passing second.

Camila kept up the teasing, her voice lilting with amusement as she fed Lauren another forkful of pasta. She twirled the noodles around the tines, deliberately taking her time, enjoying the way Lauren's lips parted expectantly.

To an outsider, the scene might have looked tender, like Camila was trying to ease Lauren's tension after last night's confession, but in truth, Camila didn't care much about the burden Lauren had revealed. In fact, Camila was secretly pleased. Finally, someone had taken action. Someone had done something about the mess that had overshadowed their lives for too long. Lauren's admission about killing Angelina had been a shock, sure, but a welcome one. Camila had always despised Angelina for her role in everything that had happened, for the lies, the manipulation, the way she seemed to delight in others' misery. Camila had wished a hundred times over that it had been Ian who met the end of Lauren's gun, but knowing it was Angelina still brought a sense of satisfaction. That bitch had deserved to die just as much as Ian did, and Lauren pulling the trigger meant there was one less monster in their lives.

A smirk touched Camila's lips as she thought about it, her satisfaction a deep, dark thrum in her chest. Lauren nudged her gently, breaking Camila out of her thoughts. She looked up to find Lauren opening her mouth, waiting for more food. Camila chuckled softly, a warm laugh that made Lauren smile, and she lifted another forkful to Lauren's lips, her voice dipping into a playful, babyish tone as she cooed, "Good job. Open wide." Camila's eyes danced with a mischievous light, and every now and then, she leaned in to press a soft kiss to Lauren's cheek, feeling the way Lauren's jaw relaxed against her lips, the tension from earlier melting away.