Chapter 6
SIX
COLE
M y bedroom door clicks shut behind me and I lean against it, panting.
After my interaction with Lana outside of the church, I’d all but run back home, needing to be in my sanctuary.
She drives me fucking insane, and our conversation keeps playing on a loop in my mind.
I had just got rid of her from my head after the fight, and she had to go and pop back up again, interrupting the bliss I was feeling.
Of course she was there tonight, she probably followed me there like a crazy stalker.
That girl has more than one screw loose.
I kick away from the door and pull my shirt over my head as I walk to the bathroom.
The only thing swirling around my mind as I undress and wait for the shower to heat is Lana’s words.
Did fighting tonight make you want to fuck me less?
I groan and step into the shower, not even caring that the water’s still partially cold. With the cottage being on a different water supply to the rest of the campus, it sometimes takes time to heat up.
This place was once a part of the staff housing, but the students ended up wreaking havoc in the dorms, so they decided to spread staff out around the student accommodations, leaving this place empty.
Before our freshman year, all of our parents came together to make a deal with the school—they make donations in exchange for us having this place redone.
It was their way of showing how our families have superiority over the others.
A bunch of bullshit, if you ask me.
The water finally heats up, the warmth trickling over my skin as I scrub a hand over my face, my brain firing in a hundred different directions after the events of today.
Lana cut it so close to being right with what she’d said in the library today. Not that my father doesn’t love me, because he does, in his own way. But about how I wear a mask day in, day out, and she seems to be one of the only people who can see through it.
Why her? Why does she have to see through the image I portray? Out of everyone, why is it Lana fucking James?
I was so worked up after our exchange in the library that I headed straight home to change before rushing to the church, needing to get some aggression out.
And it worked.
Until it didn’t.
Until she was waiting for me outside and just had to go and fuck it all up.
And the blood. The way she licked the blood from my temple is imprinted into my damn mind.
Who does that? It’s not normal, right ?
But fuck, it was hot.
I lean against the tile wall, my hand rubbing at my face where her tongue met my skin before drifting down my chest and wrapping around my cock.
I squeeze the base of my already hard dick, trying and failing to force myself to move my hand away.
I absolutely should not jerk off to thoughts of Lana, but I’ve never been known for doing what I should do.
I slide my fist up my dick, imagining Lana’s tongue back on my skin, only this time she doesn’t just lick a droplet of blood and step away. No, this time her tongue travels down my face and to my neck, where she bites down on my skin before dropping to her knees in front of me.
I can see it so clearly, her eyes staring up at me, a whirlwind of anger and lust in them as she wars with herself about what she’s about to do.
“Do it,” I whisper, and a seductive smile paints her pretty plump lips before her hand wraps around me.
She wouldn’t go all in. No, she’d tease the hell out of me, driving me out of my mind before finally wrapping her lips around me.
My fist works harder as I imagine slipping my cock inside of her warm, waiting mouth. The way her eyes would water as I hit the back of her throat. The way she’d gag on me as I fucked her face while tears streamed down her face.
God, she’d cry so good for me.
She’d suck me so well.
She’d fight me, but she’d eventually give in.
“ Fuccckkk .” I come with a hoarse shout, painting the glass shower door with my release as I let out shallow, uneasy breaths while I blink the image of her on her knees away.
Fuck .
Why did I have to go and get myself off to thoughts of the little menace?
She was already taking up too much space in my brain; thoughts of her like that are the very last thing I need.
I finish showering, slinging a towel around my waist and building up my resolve as I use another towel to dry my hair.
This is done.
I can mess with her, torture her, piss her off to no end, but I absolutely cannot think of her like that again.
Never.
Besides, my fantasy Lana and the real Lana are two very different people. I can’t even imagine Lana James being the one to get on her knees for anyone, let alone me. No, I imagine that in the real world, she’d be the one who held all of the power, the one who took control of the situation.
She doesn’t come across as someone who could ever be submissive, she’d see it as a weakness.
She would never be compliant. She’d fight it tooth and nail.
And I’m not the type to give up control either, even if giving Lana a sliver of it would probably make for a good time. I could never risk anyone seeing me like that.
So, I do what I always do. I put my mask back in place, I shrug on the demeanor that everyone else sees, and pretend to be someone else. Sometimes, I even think I can fool myself into believing that the mask is the real me.