Chapter 5 #4
She breaks the kiss and pulls off her cami, and I groan at the sight of her tits, perfectly perky and inviting. I have to lean back to get a better view, take her in, and appreciate her the way she deserves.
“You have no fucking idea how many times I fantasized about scattering your glitter all over my bedsheets,” I confess with a grin, making her laugh. “But your bed will do too.”
I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over her lips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my touch.
This feels like a fucking dream. I start to trail kisses down her throat, my lips grazing her warm skin as I move lower.
Her head tilts back, giving me even more access, and I take full advantage, pressing a line of open-mouthed kisses along her pulse point.
Her heartbeat quickens beneath my lips, each beat coming faster as I continue my descent.
Pausing at her collarbone, I press a kiss to the delicate skin I cleaned earlier, feeling her shiver beneath me.
Her fingers are in my hair now, her breaths coming in shallow, hitching gasps.
I continue down, taking my time, and when I reach her breasts, I take one in my hand, marveling at how perfectly it fits in my palm.
I look up at her, and our eyes lock as I gently bite down on her already-peaked nipple. Her sharp gasp fills the room, a sweet sound that goes straight to my cock, making it throb, and I have to force myself not to rut against her thigh, but this might be the only time I’ll get to touch her.
Nothing could make me rush this.
My lips and tongue trail down her body, tasting every inch of her skin.
My face is probably covered in glitter by now, but I don’t give a fuck.
The feel of her beneath me, her warmth, her scent—it’s intoxicating.
When I reach the hem of her skirt, I hook my fingers under the waistband and slowly pull it down, sliding her panties along with it, revealing more of her skin, inch by inch.
A small tattoo catches my eye as I peel the fabric down over her hipbone. It’s a delicate red heart with an A above it, tucked just beneath the curve of her hip.
Ace of hearts.
Is my girl a little gambler?
Or does the tattoo stand for Vegas?
Curious, I glance up at her face, but she has her eyes closed, her head tilted back in bliss. Her hands continue to massage my scalp, fingers tugging as if guiding me lower, urging me on. She bucks up her hips toward me, a silent command to keep going.
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur with a chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to the tattoo.
The moment my lips touch it, I feel her whole body stiffen, her muscles locking up as if she’s bracing for impact. I lift my head again, sensing the change in her.
“Sparkle—” I start, but the look in her eyes when they snap open and meet mine stops me cold. Her breath hitches as if I’ve pressed on a bruise she forgot she had, and panic flashes across her face before she locks it down behind a mask of steel.
Her hands leave my hair, moving to her side as she pushes herself away from me and covers her breasts with one arm.
Fuck, what did I do?
I grab her cami from beside me and hold it out for her, but she doesn’t take it. “Wha—”
“Get out.” Her voice is calm, almost eerily so.
“Wait, what did I do?” I ask, confused, my heart pounding as I search her face for answers. I reach out for her, but she flinches back, her face hardening even more.
“Just go,” she repeats, and I can see her hands trembling.
I stay frozen, struggling to process what’s happening. “I didn’t mean to—” I begin, but she cuts me off with a sharp look.
“I said, get out.”
Her body language is stiff and defensive, and now, even the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes has disappeared. She’s shutting down, closing off. There’s a wall going up, but it’s made of glass, and I can already see the cracks forming.
Realizing I’ve crossed a line I didn’t even know was there, I slowly get up, my hands raised in surrender. “I’m sorry.”
She turns her head away, her gaze fixed on the wall. The silence between us is suffocating, filled with all the things I don’t know how to fix, all the ways I didn’t mean to hurt her.
Finally, I leave her room and continue out of the apartment, closing the door behind me.
What the fuck was that?
I lean against the wall in the hallway, running a hand over my face, trying to steady my racing thoughts. When I’m finally able to push myself off, I walk down the narrow hallway, the realization hitting me with the force of a sledgehammer.
I probably just fucked up the only chance I’ll ever have with her.
All the months of wanting, of imagining what it would be like to finally have her gone.
I should’ve known better. I should’ve seen it coming. She pulled back whenever I got too close, using the glitter and the guys to keep everyone at arm’s length. But I thought… I don’t know what I thought.
That I’d be different?
That she’d let me in?
The more I think about it, the angrier I get at myself for fucking things up, and by the time I reach the exit, I’m practically seething as I fling the doors open and storm out onto the street.
My bike is sitting there, parked where I left it, and I grab my helmet off the seat, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turn white.
Without thinking, I hurl it across the yard, watching as it crashes against the side of a trash can with a loud clang, then bounces away, rolling into the darkness.
“Fuck!”
I don’t know what just happened, but I know one thing for sure.
I’m not giving up.
Not yet. Not until she looks at me without that storm in her eyes, without that wall between us.