“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs against the side of my throat, giving me flashes of recent memory, of his hands gripping me in place, of his breath feathering against my neck as he came with his body locked inside of mine.
I start to pant, feeling wetness bloom between my thighs. The reaction is so sudden it makes me gasp. I reach up to pull Zayden's hands away and end up curling mine around his and squeezing instead.
“Do you want to hang out after class with me?” he whispers, each movement of his mouth a lesson in exquisite torture. “I'll make it worth your while.”
“I …” I want to tell him no because this was supposed to be a onetime thing. This was supposed to be an experiment, a way to capture a little something special to take to the job with me. Instead, it's … addicting as hell. “Sure.” The word pops out of my mouth before I can stop it and Zayden groans, pushing me forward so that I'm leaning over the counter in the bathroom, my hair hanging in the sink in a dark swirling pool.
“How soon do you have to leave for class?” he asks me as I swallow a few times in a struggle to find my voice. I can't believe how bad I want this right now. I lift my head up and catch sight of Zay's face in the mirror, his tongue sliding across his lower lip, playing with his silver lip piercings. “Do you have ten minutes to spare?”
“I … no. No.” I push back into him and he groans as my ass rubs against the hard bulge in his briefs. It's tempting to keep going, to writhe and wiggle and arch my back. Um. Okay. This is definitely not happening to me right now. I refuse to give into an urge I don't even fully understand. “I'm sorry, but … we'll talk after I get out of class.”
I push past him, but I can't stop thinking about last night, about his hands on my throat and his cum on my fingers and—I just can't shake any of it.
“You have more self-control than I do,” he says as he leans in the door frame of the bathroom and I glance back at him, finding nothing less than godly about his appearance, even with sleepy half-lidded eyes and mussy hair. Definitely the God of Tattoos and Piercings. And I am definitely one of his most loyal followers.
I snag an extra contacts lens case from the dresser and grab a pair of glasses, snatching up clothes on my way out of the room. I'd really love to shower before I leave, but I can't see that happening without something else happening.
My steps slow as I near the bottom of the stairs and eye the spot where Zay held me last night. My heart starts to pound and I almost drop the pile of clothes in my hands. It feels almost impossible that that actually happened, that that was me with my back to the wall and my tongue in Zay's mouth.
When I hear him following after me, I retreat into the downstairs bathroom and slam the door, locking it up tight and taking my contacts out with a shaking finger. I'm almost positive I'm imagining it, but it feels like I look different today. I know I feel different, but I can't quite figure out why that is. Maybe it's because my life's become unrecognizable in the last week?
Just last month, before Ingrid ever left, I was getting over my breakup with Anthony, hitting bars with my friends, making appearances at campus parties. I was planning the next year of my life out to the smallest detail, making sure everything was on track for graduation and the beautiful future I'd envisioned for myself.
Now, I'm hiding in the downstairs bathroom of my sister's place, trying to figure out why I can't breathe when Zay's around, why I'm letting myself go around a complete stranger, how I'm going to manage these kids in the long run.
I lean to the side and let my body rest against the wall. Because of Zay, I'd almost forgotten my night at the club. But how could I? It was ten times busier than the night before, and the crowd was rowdy and awful.
I hated every second of it. Second being the key word. That was only my second night working, and I feel like I want to pull my hair out. All those eyes on me, the grinding thump of the music, my sweaty hands gripping the pole.
A knock at the door makes me jump, snaps me out of last night's memories.
I put my clothes on as quick as I can and open the bathroom door to find Zayden waiting for me, still wearing his briefs and nothing else. He doesn't even seem to care that the bay window looks in right on his nearly naked form.
“You want a PB&J for breakfast? I'm gettin' real good at making those.”