EMERSON.
I watch the swell of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples, drawing towards me and requesting to make a tug.
I lower my gaze to her face and she has a look of both uncertainty and resentment.
"What are you waiting for?" I take another step closer till her breasts scrape the skin of my naked chest and my cock grazes slightly against her thighs.
I know the exact moment she thought of that night when her eyes drops to my cock again: her pupils dilate, a crease forms over her forehead and her lips part with no word slipping through.
She swallows down, and I drift my gaze to the slight bob in her throat. I want to poke at it before wrapping my hand around it to take her breath from her, have her begging— pleading— to let go. There's an obsession with Carson's pleads I can't seem to get myself. It's that strong urge to hear those words from her, knowing she's a damn stubborn chick who tends to defy me in every way possible. Her defiance serves both as an annoyance and something else that shouldn't be there.
Eva Carson makes my blood boil, but recently she's been doing more than invoking anger in me. She's like a drug I can't wait to get my hands off again. She's like an itch I can't get off my skin. One gaze at her chest and I'm brought back to that night. The night when I had Carson screaming my name, and not in the way that implies she wants to murder me, but in a way that tells how much she enjoys my cock inside her pussy, despite her opposing words to it. I haven't been able to get her taste off my mind, and it's exactly what I need to do. I need to hit it and get it over with.
I need to fuck her out of my system, and I don't care how many times I have to do that.
I desire to go back to loathing the very existence of Eva Carson without the craving part of it.
Carson takes a step back and my mouth twitches when my gaze falls to the movement. She meets my eyes with a glare.
"I thought I was the last thing that could get you hard, Ford. " Sarcasm drips off her tone as she nods towards the erection poking at her thighs and I snort. "This is nothing, but a man's morning ritual, Carson. "
"How many times have you lied now?" She laughs, amusement coating her expression and I'm the one to take a step back this time.
"Get out. " I tell her instead, changing the subject and she rolls her eyes, "I never said I'm drawing back on this. "
"You have your panties on. " I remind her.
Her eyes move to her body before she meets my gaze again. "I do not need to get naked to get you out of this room, Ford. We both know that's something else you're digging. " That makes two of us, Carson.
"Your breasts are out in the open. What do you have to say about that?" I fold my arms against my chest and she smiles, "Feeding your obsession for the last time. "
"I've had them before. " I tell her and a smirk crosses her lips as she speaks. "And you'll never again. Get your clothes and get out, Ford. Your body isn't exactly a sight for sore eyes. "
"Explains why you're dripping between your legs. " I retort and her eyes widen just barely. Her mouth drops but she says nothing, and I know I've got her there. The sense of satisfaction that comes with that is undeniable.
Letting out a chuckle, I kick my clothes to the side and step behind the glass doors to the shower. "Unless you want to take a bath with me, Carson, you should stay out. Or you can stand there while I give you the show of your life. " I turn my back to her and grab the shampoo. When I turn back, both Carson and her clothes are out of the room, and there's a loud slam of the door.
I chortle and rest back against the wall, shutting my eyes as I wrap my hand around my cock, pumping myself to the image of her bare breasts.
Once again, she got to me.
EVA.
I throw my clothes to the bed in anger and process to fall on it, my hands in my hair, tugging harshly at it like a madwoman with my chest rising and falling rapidly.
Once again, Emerson doesn't fail to do the one thing he's good at– make me scorn him the more. But there's something else this time.
I sit up on the bed and stare down at my body to my panties. He wasn't wrong when he mentioned the drip between my thighs. I'm fucking soaked... At the sight of Emerson's naked body.
This cannot go on. It's far from what I should be doing. When you hate someone, you hate them. The clear look of disgust, the unknown glares and all those shit. There's no fucking them or wanting to fuck them again after the first time, because that's exactly what's happening.
I need to stop thinking of my nails raking down his back and me beneath him with our bodies pressed to each other and go back to thinking of my fist in his face. Especially if I'll drive Emerson Ford out of here– something I won't do with this new sentiment.
~
"You're heading to college in those hideous clothes?" Emerson snickers behind me and I spin around to be met with the sight of him in his usual attire of entire blackness– does he ever get tired?
I stare down at my body clad in a short skirt that goes a bit over my midthighs with a turtleneck before lifting my head to him. "What's wrong with these?"
"They are hideous. " He says, raising his shoulder in a half shrug and a laugh falls from my mouth. "How many times have you called me dumb, Ford? I think those were meant for you if you think these are hideous. Do you even know what that word means?"
"You're in a skirt and a turtleneck. " He clarifies and I shake my head. "First, I don't wear clothes to interest you. Second, what do you have to say about what you have on?"
A tiny smirk climbs on his face and he throws his helmet to the second hand, pressing it against his side. "First, you shouldn't have them on at all and second, black is mysterious. "
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Hatred With Benefits