Take (Need #2)

“Oh, I’ll be taking that soon, baby, but not tonight.”

She stares up at me in shock, giving me the opportunity to step back and out. I turn around when I reach the doorway and give a couple strokes to my cock.

“See you soon.”

Her thighs clamp together as she bites down on her bottom lip, making me second-guess my leaving.

I take a few deep breaths on my way to the staircase.

“Oh, hi,” a voice says as I start climbing.

I look up to find Jenna coming down. “Hey.”

“Have you seen Kira? She went to get some snacks, and it’s been a while.”

I nod. “Yeah, she’s in the kitchen.”

Her gaze narrows on me. “Why do you look like the cat that ate the canary? Or in this case, the Kira?”

I smirk at her and lick my fingers. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

She laughs, but when it dies down and I’m about to leave, she stops me.

“Brayden, look, I don’t know what went down with you two, and all joking and teasing aside, that’s my best friend.”

“Hurt her and you’ll kill me?”

She shakes her head. “You’ve already done that.” I grimace and hang my head. “What you just did right there shows me you’re hurt too. Make our girl happy so I don’t have to chop your dick off, okay?”

“That’s all I want to do, but she’s fighting it, which I completely understand.”

“Keep fighting.”

“Always.”

She smiles and punches my arm. “Guess I’ll go pick up whatever mess of a girl you left.”

“Hey, Jenna.”

She turns back to me. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for being such a great friend. I know because of me she didn’t really have many friends that were girls.”

She giggles. “I forgot about that.”

I head back to my room and shut the door, then collapse down on my bed.

My dick is still hard, thumping in my jeans.

I check my watch—it’s already almost five. Unless her friends leave right now, I’d be lucky to see her for a long time, let alone tonight.

Fuck.

I rub against my shaft with my palm.

There’s no way I can make it through work tomorrow like this. I’ll be a raging fucking lunatic.

I really want to come in Kira, but for my own sanity, it’s best to rub out a quick one. But next time, it will be smeared all over her * lips and oozing out of her tight cunt.





My friends left just before dinner, abandoning me. They’re all on my shit list as I think they’re conspiring with him.

Then again, I’ve never told them everything.

Somehow, by some miraculous means, I made it through dinner. Brayden stared at me almost the whole time, our parents clueless as they ignored each other.

The conversation was stifled, and that’s putting it nicely. For the life of me, I don’t understand why Steven even tries to engage his son in conversation. The dislike on both ends is so obvious that it felt like a heavy presence in the room. I had to physically restrain myself from reacting every time Steven spoke to him in that forced, slightly condescending tone.

Brayden gave as good as he got, but it still wasn’t easy.

My mother didn’t say one word to Steven, which made everything worse.

I always disliked the man and I won’t deny it. Lately, though, I’ve begun to truly hate Brayden’s father.

At one point, Brayden brushed the back of his fingers lightly across my upper thigh.

Did I mention that I hate him, too?

Now, I’m alone, staring at my laptop, trying to force myself to stop looking at the door.

It’s not working.

My thighs clench, trying to keep them from moving, to keep me from thinking about the man across the hall. The one who drove me to insanity earlier and left me like this.

I’m so horny. Clawing the walls, so far gone I’m not thinking straight.

My * keeps twitching, aching to be filled. Stuffed by that huge cock of his. Spread open as he pounds into me.

I glance over to my nightstand and contemplate pulling my vibe out. The problem is, I know it won’t be enough. A hollow orgasm. Unfulfilling and frustrating me further.

But I don’t want to go to him either. I don’t want to prove to that cocky bastard that he was right.

Even though he is.

I can’t stop thinking about him, about his touch. How freaking perfect he feels inside me. How much I want it.

These are his terms, not mine.

I press my fingers against my clit as my thighs rub together. My nipples are so stiff every shift of my hips has them rubbing against my tank top. Then it hits me, smacks me in the face.

It was on a day close to this, maybe even this same day last year, that I got my first taste of him.

My first addictive hit.

The day he almost took my virginity.

I wanted him to do it. He was almost there.

Mom has the worst timing.

I won’t even allow myself to get into thoughts about how things would be different if he had.

Instead, I wonder if he’s high right now, just like he was then. Did he get off after he teased me this afternoon?

I feel like I’m going out of my mind.

What is this?

I can’t do anything but fantasize about him touching me.

K.I. Lynn & N. Isabelle Blanco's books