“Oh come on, Naomi. You know what needs to happen just as well as I do.”
“Um, actually, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, so just spit it out for me and let me hear it.” Naomi turns around and waits for me to finish. Good. There's nobody in here but us. Somebody knocks at the door and Naomi tells 'em to screw off.
My smile gets a little bigger.
“You know it; I know it. We gotta fuck, Naomi.” She rolls her eyes at me.
“You're a real piece of work, you know that?” she asks, vehemence dripping from every syllable. I take a step forward and she stiffens. I pause and light another cigarette, watching as her eyes trace the lines of my lips as I slide it in nice and slow.
“And you're not? You come at me spouting some shit about a dangerous bitch on the loose and refuse to explain yourself. Are we talking about that skinny, anorexic chick? The one with the small tits.”
“Jesus fuck,” Naomi whispers, letting her eyes close for a moment. “Hayden Lee. You don't remember screwing her, do you?” I shrug and tap some ashes on the floor. Not a big deal; they join up with wads of toilet paper, gum, even a few dirty T-shirts. Interesting.
“Not really, no. She must not have been all that impressive then.”
Naomi's face drops for a moment before she picks herself back up and starts towards the door. Fuck. Wrong thing to say. I chase after her, but when I grab her elbow, she pushes it back hard and hits me in the stomach. For a second, my anger gets the better of me, and I end up grabbing her rough, too rough maybe and spinning her around, slamming her wrists above her head.
When I kiss her, she bites me so hard that I bleed, but I don't stop, not even when she tries to knee me in the balls.
“Go to hell, Turner,” she says, looking me in the face, tensing her muscles as she tries to get free from my grip. “Never again, I already told you that. You and me, not gonna happen.”
“Doesn't have to,” I whisper against her face, my breath heating her skin, making her squeeze her eyes tight. When they flicker open, they're full of rage. “Just once. That's all I'm asking. Then you and I can move on and forget the past, the tattoos, the abortion.”
“Easy for you to say,” she growls, and I can see it right there in her gaze. She fucking hates me. Loathes me. The emotion's so powerful that I almost step back, almost. But then I notice a twinkle hidden deep down in there. I think it's lust. I drop one hand between her legs and slide my fingers up her inner thigh. Oh fuck yeah. It's hot and moist down there. Ready. She's ready for me. An image surfaces in my mind briefly, a passing blur of color and heat, slickness wrapped around my cock. Naomi. I lick my lips. I have to have her again. I have to. There's no other option. “You're not the one that suffered.”
I bend forward to kiss her again, and she breaks free, shoving me back so hard that I hit the stall door and nearly fall into the toilet. When I right myself again, I see that Naomi's turned around and is in the process of unlocking the door. I move forward fast and slam her into the dented wood, sliding the zipper down on my pants, listening to the click of metal teeth.
“Tell me you're not interested,” I whisper in her ear, noticing with pleasure that she shivers and squeezes her fists into two, tight little balls. “Tell me to stop and go away, and I will. I'll never bother you again.” Risky gamble I'm taking here. If she tells me to leave, I don't know what I'll do. I'll be so obsessed with this chick that a thousand women, a thousand hits won't be able to cure me. This is my last chance to escape. Or became enraptured forever. Again, I ignore the side of myself that knows better. Old habits die hard, right?
“I hate you,” she tells me, and I can hear in her voice that she means what she says. But she doesn't tell me to stop. I let my cock spring free and release her, using my hands to slide her skirt up her hips. Naomi's got on a nice, little thong leaving her ass bare and perfect, sexy and round. I tease her crack with my dick, watching as sweat beads on her skin and slides down her legs. I want to spin her around, so she can see me, watch me fucking her, but I'm afraid she'll run if I do.
“Do you have a condom?” she asks, voice muffled a bit, like she's afraid the sound will break the heat between us. Not going to happen. I feel like I'm drowning in a pool of molten lava. Every inch of me is on fire right now, sizzling, giving me an unbearable ache that has to be filled. God, I'm horny as fuck. I release her hips and grab her shirt, pulling it down her arms and tugging it off, tossing it into the sink next to us. Mine follows close behind, so I can press my skin against hers, grind us together into the dirty bathroom door. “Turner.” Naomi's voice is no-nonsense right now, like I can tell she won't take any of my shit. Not that I blame her, but as I stand there and feel her body with my fingers, bits of memory start to come back to me, and I realize I don't want to use a condom.