32. Santiago
SANTIAGO
Just like he said, we went back to his apartment.
I hadn’t even stepped foot inside, and he’d already ordered me to go straight to the guest bathroom to take a shower, threatening my life if I didn’t properly wash myself.
Now, all cleaned up and in the brand-new clothes that he’d left for me, I was sitting on the couch, waiting for him.
He said he’d also take a shower, but checking my phone, it had already been over forty-five minutes.
Poking the inside of my cheek with my tongue, I tapped the floor with my bare foot.
This whole hooking-up thing was a lot more organized than I thought it would be.
I mean, he got me clothes my size to wear, for God’s sake, and then left me waiting like it was a doctor’s appointment.
He was an odd guy, nothing I didn’t already know, but still.
The more I experienced him, the more on edge it left me, and while my brain told me to run for my life, I couldn’t.
I was too curious to learn more, too desperate to have him, and too weak to resist.
“Have you showered?”
I perked up at the sound of his voice and turned to see him standing near the hall.
I didn’t know what I’d expected to find, but somehow, I was taken by surprise.
Still in a white bathrobe and with his hair wet and falling over his brows, he looked…
different. He was still beautiful, I mean, he always was—that was the whole fucking problem.
But now, it was a different type of beauty.
Almost vulnerable, if that word could even suit such a disturbed man.
Looking at him now reminded me of the expression he had right after he came that one time I sucked him off.
My chest tightened with the memories, and a bit out of breath, I brushed my sweaty palms over my thighs and got up.
“Yeah, I did.”
He studied me for a few lingering seconds before he turned and walked over to the open kitchen.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Tea?” I frowned.
I was used to being offered a drink or two before fucking, even a joint, but never tea.
“Yes, tea. Is there a problem with that?”
Still standing by the couch, I shrugged. “Isn’t that what old people drink?”
Ignoring me, he placed a teapot over the stove.
Thinking about it, maybe him offering me tea wasn’t any different from drinking maté, which was a traditional drink in most Argentinian households. And yet, I was never offered it on a date, let alone before sex.
But instead of asking him about it, I just watched as he walked to the cabinet and took two teacups out.
To no surprise, even his cups were fancy, if you could even call them cups.
They looked like they were taken straight out of a china shop.
And if I thought making tea was just pouring hot water over some dried leaves, Ariyan proved me wrong, as for the next few minutes, I watched how he made tea.
From scaling the herbs to putting them in small bags to slowly adding the water, each action was premeditated.
Calculated even, the same way he did everything else.
Watching him was like watching paint dry, and my body basically throbbed from boredom. So when he was finally done, I moved fast.
“Don’t.” He slapped my hand after I reached to take one of the teacups.
“But I thought you said we’ll drink tea—”
“It needs to brew for six minutes.”
The fuck?
“It’s just tea,” I murmured, still looking at him, even though he’d turned around to wash the dishes.
While he did, I focused on his nape. I’d thought about it before, but he had such a pretty neck.
He was also so pale, on the verge of looking sick, and yet I found it oddly attractive.
Enough to make me willing to wait six more minutes for his stupid tea.
After he was done in the kitchen, we moved back to sit on the couch, the tea placed on the small table before us. We sat in complete silence, and it was extremely awkward, especially since we were so close to one another our knees nearly touched.
“Eh… how much more time?” I asked.
“Two minutes.”
“Do you often treat your hookups to tea?”
“What I do or do not do with my hookups has nothing to do with you—” He crossed his legs, causing his robe to slide just a bit and exposing more of his thigh. “—as you’re not one.”
Forcing my eyes away from his stunning legs, I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He leaned forward and whisked the tea with a spoon. “We’re not hooking up.”
My brows drew inward. “But I thought—”
“You’re here because I need to fulfill my side of the agreement,” he cut me off, taking the teaspoon out of the teacup and placing it on the saucer. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
I also leaned forward, my stare locked on his profile. “Maybe if you were less formal, this could be more than just that.”
“That will never happen.”
It wasn’t a question but a coldhearted statement. I wanted to say something in response when the timer on his phone went off, and he pointed at my cup.
“Go ahead, drink your tea.”
This short exchange was enough to fill my mouth with a bitter taste, so I hurried to do as he said while he turned off the timer. No wonder a man who counted the seconds to make a cup of tea was this cold.
Bringing the drink to my lips, I half wondered if he was about to poison me. But then again, I’d watched him make it, and he just took a sip himself, so…
“It’s good,” I said, surprised after taking a sip. The temperature was perfect for drinking, too, so I guess the wait was worth it. Wanting to have more, I took another gulp, then another, and before I realized it, I’d finished my tea.
“Let’s go,” he said the second I placed my empty cup on the saucer, already up on his feet.
Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I also got up, ready to follow him, when I noticed his cup was left almost full.
“Don’t you want to finish your tea—”
“Come before I change my mind.”
Not about to argue, I shut my mouth and followed him into the bedroom, the same room where he’d previously tied me to the bed.
From a quick glance, it seemed like he’d replaced the bed with a new one.
I would have thrown some comments about it if he hadn’t just sat on the edge of the mattress and leaned back on his hands.
“What are you waiting for?” he snarled, crossing one leg over the other. “Get your ass over here.”
“Look who’s being so eager all of a sudden.” I smirked when he rolled his eyes.
“Just shut up and come over here.”
Taking my shirt off, I tossed it on the floor before walking over to the bed and sitting beside him. He smelled good, even more so than usual, and my mouth watered just from looking at him.
“You’re so sexy,” I whispered, placing my hand next to his and slowly leaning closer. My heart was beating like crazy, my dick already hard just from being in the same room as him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured when I brought my lips to his neck and began kissing him.
His skin was soft, like velvet, and wanting to feel more, I slipped my hand under his robe, slowly caressing his chest. His body was amazing, clean-cut muscles with perfect definition. He was so elegant and smooth, and I couldn’t wait to fuck him.
I grabbed his pec, giving it a little squeeze while still kissing his neck. He didn’t react to it, which was good because I half expected him to punch me. Feeling confident and still with my mouth on his neck, I pushed him down on the mattress and moved above him.
At last, he was beneath me like I’d imagined so many times before, and the sight didn’t disappoint.
Spread on the mattress, his hair a mess and his chest on full display, his pink nipples there for me to admire, I bit on my bottom lip.
He was so damn fine, and my cock already throbbed in the fancy slacks he’d gotten me.
Hungry, I ducked down and began kissing him, slowly dragging my lips down his body while my hand fumbled with his robe’s belt.
Parting my lips, I closed them around his right nipple and began sucking on it, flicking my thumb over the other one.
I thought it would make him react, but he didn’t so much as let out a single sound.
Glancing up, I saw he wasn’t even looking at me; instead, his head was tilted to the side while he stared at the wall.
A jolt of annoyance shot through me, but quickly brushing it off, I went up to kiss his neck again.
Not wanting to scare him off or something, I did my best to hold back and be gentle, trying to make him feel good by kissing and touching him in places I thought he’d like.
But no matter how much I tried, he just lay there, limbs numb and body still.
His lack of involvement was more of a rejection than anything, and slowly, the feeling of discomfort grew in my gut until I couldn’t take it anymore, and I backed off.
“Finished already?” he mockingly asked from behind me.
“Fuck off.”
“I was only teasing.” He chuckled, but not finding it amusing, I bent to pick up my shirt. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Home? Didn’t you want to have sex?”
“I’m not going to fuck a fucking corpse.”
He clicked his tongue.
Fuck. It drives me nuts when he does that.
“Just come back here.”
“Nah. Not in the mood.”
Bet he’s rolling his eyes at me now, too.
“Stop acting like a baby, and come back.”
“Why?” I turned to face him, jaw tense. “So you can just lie there and do nothing?”
“Did it occur to you that you might just suck in bed?”
Bitterness clawed at my insides, and I fisted my hands.
“I’m out of here.” I clutched the door handle—
“I’ll suck your cock,” he said, making me stop in my tracks.
“Huh?” I turned to glance at him, only to be met with his fierce eyes.
“Sit on the bed.”
“Ariyan—”
“Just sit down and take out your cock.”
I was still angry, mostly humiliated, but the thought of having his lips wrapped around my dick made me sit faster than I could fully process the thought.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked when he got up from the bed and stood in front of me.