Chapter 20 #3
He stands up from his kneeling position, licking the moisture off his swollen lips, and the muscles in my lower belly contract once again. His eyes are feverish. A huge bulge tents his jeans. He’s trying to adjust himself but winces as if in pain. His breathing is labored.
“I… hmm… Do you need help with that?” I point at the big situation below his belt .
“I’d love the help, baby. But not now.” He puts his hand inside his jeans and puts his dick into the right position, which is apparently straight up.
I know because I’m watching like a hawk, and I swear I can almost smell his musk.
Watching somebody moving their cock and catching a whiff of his scent would typically send me to the toilet to throw up.
But not now, no. The opposite. My pussy clenches again, and I swallow a dry lump in my throat.
A loud groan draws my attention. “Don’t do that anymore, or you’ll end up with your feet on my shoulders and my dick deep inside you. ”
My mouth hangs open; he steps closer and gives me a quick lick on my lips. My tongue darts out, tasting myself. It’s not as gross as I thought. It’s arousing.
I touch my lips with my fingers, still not believing what just happened. Justin Attleborough went down on me in the kitchen of the diner. While he was on his knees with his face buried between my legs. What in the ever-loving hell is happening?
While I doubt my sanity, he bends down, picks up my discarded soaked panties from the floor, and shoves them into the front pocket of his jeans.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking a souvenir,” he answers with a wide smile. “For future use.”
“That’s gross!” I scrunch my nose.
“It’s so not.” He shoves his hands into his back pockets. “I meant what I said, Kayla.”
“What exactly? You spurted a lot of nonsense. What exactly did you mean?” I jump down from the table and fix my skirt.
“That I still hate you, and that doesn’t change anything.” His words and actions are two completely different stories. This guy can write a handbook on how to be hot and cold.
My back snaps straight. “What?”
“My feelings toward you haven’t changed, there’s too much history with us, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
But we can fuck it out of our systems. We have so much fucking chemistry we can burn a building down when we are together.
” He adjusts his dick inside of his pants again.
The little dude is clearly as confused as I am.
“What the hell?” I feel my brows furrow on their own accord.
“Yeah, a lot of chemistry.” He nods like I’m an idiot.
“That’s not what I meant, asshole!” I yell at him.
“Do you think you’re the one who’s been wronged?
Fuck you, Justin! You and your brother treated me like shit for years!
I’ve been bullied by half the town for the majority of my life just because I was born poor, and here you are, coming back from jail and adding to my misery.
Do you think I don’t have enough to deal with already?
Newsflash: I do.” I walk to the sink just so I can wash my hands. They suddenly feel dirty.
“Kayla, that’s… this situation between us can’t be happening like that. We’re going to be around Alex and Freya, and we need to keep our cool.” His breathing slowly changes to normal while mine’s picking up speed.
“Oh, you think?” I turn to look at him while scrubbing my hands raw.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t get my sarcasm, and if he does, he doesn’t let on. “This tension needs to go. We just need to fuck it out.”
“The only thing you will be fucking out is my foot from your ass if you don’t disappear right now,” I hiss, adjusting my clothes .
“Kayla, be reasonable.” He tries to calm me down. The audacity!
“Reasonable? Reasonable !?” My voice booms through the empty space. “Do you think I price myself so low that after all these years of abuse you put me through, I’d just forget and spread my legs for you?”
“Hmm, you just did.” He looks at the table.
“Fuck you!” I throw a towel at him, wishing I had wet it so the impact would be harder.
“I hate you. I truly hate you, Justin. You know the truth now, and suddenly I’m not a bad guy anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can just erase everything you and your brother ever did to me.
Do you think so low of me? That you’d have no problem swooping in and getting me to jump your bones?
That I wouldn’t be able to resist you? Well, I can.
Because I have some fucking dignity!” I all but screech.
I can’t control myself anymore. What a pathetic jerk!
“Kayla, listen—” He throws his hands in front of him in a calming manner. It does nothing but aggravate me even more.
“Nope, I’m done listening.” I throw my arms out. “Get out.” I point to the door.
“Kayla,” he says in that voice of reason .
“No, Justin. Honest to God, I’m done with you. To tell you the truth, for a second there, I thought this might mean something.” As soon as I say it, I regret it.
“What might mean something? Me licking you to an orgasm? That might mean something?” He laughs.
“Yeah, it’s a normal thing between two consenting adults.
You don’t have to be in a relationship to do it.
You of all people should know that.” He rolls his eyes like it’s the funniest and the most obvious thing in the world.
He did not just say that. He did not …
But he did. And it hurts like hell. He, like everybody else in this town, thinks of me as a whore just because my mother was, and now I’m guilty by association.
She was a shitty parent, but she did what she had to do to put food on the table for her two kids.
And she wasn’t a prostitute per se; she just had a few regular boyfriends (I cringe thinking about it) who helped her out with money.
She had my sister when she was sixteen and me at nineteen.
There wasn’t much she could do for work around here, seeing that local folks don’t take to the people from the trailer side kindly.
As for leaving this town, well, I understand more than many how things get complicated.
I turn to face him, making sure to meet his gaze. “Get out, Justin, and never come back. The feeling is mutual—I hate you too.” I feel the muscles all over my body tightening from anger pressing on my nerves.
In two long strides, he is next to me. He bends his head to my ear, his breath tickling my skin.
In a whisper, he says, “You’ll come to me, we both know that.
I know how you’ve felt about me all these years.
” He grazes the shell of my ear with his lips.
“It’ll force you to come to me eventually.
You just had a taste. You’ll be craving it.
Trying to see what we’ve been building up to for so long.
You won’t be able to get me out of your head without a good angry fuck to erase all the memories, good and bad.
To wipe the slate clean. I’ll wait, but not for long. ”
With that, he walks away, smacking the door into the wall on the way out.
The wall shakes, and the huge picture of Little Hope I bought from a local artist last week falls down, clamoring onto the cute accent table Marina brought from her home, knocking the lamp onto the floor.
A new, stylish rustic lamp that Freya brought for us from their house.
She wanted to save it from Alex’s wrath (that man has a weird relationship with lamps).
I watch in slow motion as it shatters upon reaching the floor. So much for saving the beauty.
I take a deep breath and call out to the sky to give me patience.