But, damn, keeping my raging hormones in check has never been so hard.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was all a mistake. It was all a mistake. It was all a mistake.
The way the same sentence keeps circling inside my brain, I could swear it’s some sort of mantra. Or one of those songs that, once you hear it on the radio, you simply can’t get out of your head.
It was all a mistake.
It’s like invisible strings keep me tied to that one memory, forcing me to watch it on replay over and over again.
Needless to say, I’m up all night, my sleep evading me as my brain keeps replaying the same events, like a broken record.
I’m up at dawn, staring out the window at the rising sun. Stripes of pink and purple streak the sky in the distance, the colors not matching my mood. I’m tired and yet restless from all the frustration building up inside me.
It’s going to be a very sunny morning, yet I don’t know how to face the day.
It depresses me to no end that I cannot be outside, taking a walk, enjoying the scenery, out of fear that I might meet Kellan.
I’ve never been so on edge, every part of me sensitive, my body begging for release. Obviously, I don’t need a cocky, self-centered guy to do it for me.
I know which buttons to press to make myself come.
The trouble is that if I so much as touch myself, Kellan will be all I can think about. Consequently, I’d rather deny myself the pleasure than inflate his oversized ego even more—even though he’d most certainly never find out.
It’s after six a.m. when I head for the kitchen. I need my morning cup of coffee, and no man can keep it from me. Secretly, I hope Kellan and Mandy are still sleeping at this ungodly hour.
But just to be on the safe side, I’ll be quick about making the coffee, and then return to my bedroom.
The kitchen door’s ajar, and the clinking sounds of a teaspoon stirring something inside a cup carries over. I’m about to turn around and walk back to my room when I hear the sound of a chair pulling.
“Good morning. You’re not avoiding me, are you?” Kellan calls from inside.
I can’t see his expression. But I can hear the amusement in his voice, and it irritates the hell out of me. Raising my head high, I step through the doorway into the kitchen and head straight for the coffee maker.
“Avoiding you?” I laugh, squeezing as much nonchalance into my voice as I can. Though I’m pretty crap at the nonchalance part. “You wish. I slept in. I hadn’t slept in in ages, so I thought I’d use the opportunity.”
“You call getting up at six a.m. sleeping in?”
“I usually get up at five.” That part’s a lie. I spend so many late nights at the office that I rarely make it home before midnight and often don’t get up before ten a.m.
I help myself to a cup of coffee, deliberately avoiding Kellan’s penetrating stare, which is burning a hole in my back.
“Judging from the way you look, I doubt you had an ounce of sleep. You were probably too busy thinking about my dick inside you.”
I almost jump in my skin when I feel Kellan’s breath on my earlobe.
Holy shit!
Does he have to stand so close? And does he have to be so crude?
The guy’s obviously never heard the term personal space, or why else would he keep invading it?
“You should have asked me to help you out.” His finger traces down the nape of my neck, scorching my skin. “I’m always happy to oblige.”
I step aside too quickly and manage to spill half of my coffee over the counter and down the front of my shirt.
“Aaaah.” A faint yelp escapes my lips. “It’s hot.”
“Let me help you,” Kellan says, amused. Before I can realize what’s happening, his fingers are busy undoing the buttons of my blouse and pushing it aside to reveal my bra.
“Seriously?” I ask. “That was so not necessary.”
“Pouring coffee over yourself can easily result in first-degree burns.”
He grabs a napkin and is patting the liquid off my chest. His green eyes are glued to my breasts, and he licks his lips lasciviously. The way he looks at me, I feel stripped bare of my clothes, completely exposed to his gaze and touch.
I should slap him, but instead I find myself strangely aroused.
No one’s ever looked at me with so much want.
No one’s made me instantly hot for him.
Is that his thing? Making a woman feel wanted so she’ll gladly part her legs for him?
Even if it is…oh, fuck it!
My fingers wrap around his hand, but instead of pushing him away, I press it against my chest, holding him in place.
Our eyes connect, and my breath hitches.
Something passes between us.
I don’t know what it is. I only know that it makes my head spin.