Drawn To You (GirlxGirl)

Part 11

Jessie's P.O.V

The taxi ride was a blur of city lights and Emily's touch. She was all over me—her hand entwined with mine, her lips grazing my neck in soft, teasing kisses. It should've been enough to pull me fully into the moment, to let the night's intoxication sweep me away, but my mind was elsewhere. My mind was on Allie and I got angry at myself for not being able to get her face out of my head.

The way her lips had met Mark's in that kiss, a kiss that seemed to hold more than just affection. It was possessive, a reminder to the world—and maybe to herself—of her marriage. But why did it bother me? Why couldn't I just focus on the woman next to me, the one whose lips were on my skin?

I forced myself to push the thoughts aside, to focus on Emily. She was beautiful, red hair cascading over her shoulders, her brown eyes filled with desire every time she looked at me. I'd been with enough girls to know what she wanted, what she expected from tonight.

As the taxi pulled up outside her flat, I hesitated, a brief thought of calling it a night flashing through my mind. I could leave, go home, and drown the confusion in sleep.

But the thought of my empty apartment, the silence that would greet me there, was unbearable. And besides, I was turned on—whether it was from Emily's touch or something else, I wasn't sure, but the heat was there, and I needed to do something about it.

We stumbled through the door of her flat, Emily's hands already tugging at my clothes.

I kissed her, hard, trying to be in the moment, trying to let the fire between us consume everything else. But as my lips moved against hers, my mind betrayed me again and again.

I pushed Emily onto the couch, letting my hands roam over her body as she arched against me but no matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop my mind from trailing to Allie. The curve of her lips, the way her eyes had widened just a fraction when she'd seen me at the pub. That look of surprise, maybe even something more. It was maddening, and it was ruining this.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't. Emily was here, willing and eager, and I needed to get Allie out of my head. I led Emily to the bedroom, undressing her as we went, trying to lose myself in the familiar routine. Her skin was soft under my fingertips, her breath quickening as I kissed down her neck.

The sex was fast and desperate, both of us driven by need and alcohol-fueled desire.

Emily was vocal, her hands gripping me tightly as she cried out, but I could barely focus on her. My mind kept wandering, kept pulling me back to Allie. I imagined her beneath me, imagined what it would be like to feel her skin against mine, to hear her gasp my name instead.

It was wrong—so wrong—and I hated myself for it, but I couldn't stop. Even as I brought Emily to climax, even as she clung to me, I was thinking of someone else.

Afterwards, Emily curled up against me, her breathing slowing as she drifted off to sleep. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling empty and unsatisfied. The room was dark, apart from the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains, and the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.

I couldn't stay. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to wake up next to Emily and engage in awkward small talk while both deciding if we wanted to see each other again.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed, grabbing my clothes and dressing as quietly as I could. Emily stirred but didn't wake, and I was grateful for it. I didn't want to explain, didn't want to face the questions in the morning.

The streets were eerily quiet as I walked home, the early morning chill biting at my skin. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a pale, pinkish light over the buildings.

My head was starting to throb, the alcohol from the night catching up with me, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep it off.

When I finally reached my apartment, I shut the door behind me with a sense of finality, as if I could lock away the night and everything that came with it. But I knew it wouldn't be that easy. Not when in about 27 hours time I was going to be painting the woman that had hijacked my night even when she wasn't present.