Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
BLAIR
The sound of my alarm clock blares loudly through the room, alerting me it's time to wake up and start my day. Groaning , I roll over and look outside where the sun has yet to rise. Feeling out of sorts, I close my eyes and let my thoughts go rampant.
It's been two weeks. Two weeks since I made the stupid decision to let Emmett touch me. Call me pretty names and then degrade me, I even begged him for it.
I don’t know what got into me in that moment, it is so not like me. I’ll admit, he’s fucking hot, but I can’t go down that road. He’s an asshole, and I refuse to be the one to entertain him.
But his strong hands and thick fingers, the thought of them hasn't left my mind. Instead , my mind replays his words over and over. Why did hearing him call me all those names make my stomach flip?
It wasn’t right. So why do I want to hear him say it again? To tell me I’m a good girl while also calling me demeaning names…
Rolling onto my back, I sigh, knowing the only way I’m going to be able to clear my thoughts of Emmett is to deal with them. Picking up my pelvis, I shimmy out of my shorts.
Running my hand across my chest, I find my nipples already hardened and pinch them lightly through my tank top. A small gasp falls from my lips at the feeling.
Arousal begins to pool between my thighs as I let out another soft gasp. My hand drags over to my other breast, stopping to pinch and tug on my nipple. I take my lip between my teeth before my hand descends further down to my stomach.
Letting my fingers graze over my soft skin, I inch my hand lower until my fingers find comfort on the bud between my thighs. Running my fingers through my folds, I find them already slick with my desire. My clit throbs and aches to be touched. Yet , it isn’t my own touch I'm craving, for once it’s someone else.
Tracing my fingers in slow circles, trying to match the pace Emmett had done, the pleasurable feeling starts to build up in my core.
“ Greedy girl,” I hear his whisper as I pick up my pace and my breath quickens. My heart starts to pound in my chest as the next name he called me comes to mind.
“ Filthy little whore,” his raspy voice echoes and I close my eyes, pretending it’s his hand touching me once again. Instead of my smaller, softer fingers, it's his larger, rougher ones.
My lips part and I mutter his name, remembering his nickname for me, his little obsession. Keeping my eyes closed, I conju re up images of his forest eyes and the intensity swirling in them. The desire that they held.
The idea of Emmett being infatuated with me brings me right over the edge. Knowing I have such a strong effect on him is intoxicating. My back arches and my eyes roll, white-hot pleasure shooting through me as I reach my release, chanting his name over and over like a prayer.
My legs tremble as I pull my hand back from between them. Red stains my cheeks at the fact I just touched myself to thoughts of Emmett . What is wrong with me?
Coming down from my high too soon, I huff and toss the blanket off of my bottom half. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I make my way to the shower and prepare for the day. Touching myself did absolutely nothing to help take my mind off of him. It only made me focus on his absence more.
At first, I wondered if he was going to say something, but he hasn't. I feel his eyes on me constantly and catch him staring at me, but he hasn't approached me.
It's unnerving. It makes me question what he plans on doing next, or if he's going to do anything at all.
Deep in thought, I lose track of time while getting ready. Looking over at the clock, the numbers I see flashing back at me tell me I am going to be seriously late to class.
Shit .
To others, it’s nothing daddy’s money can’t fix, but one obligation to maintain my scholarship is to be timely, and if I'm not, I could get penalized.
“ Fuck , fuck, fuck!” I squeak while throwing everything I’ll need for the day into my bag. I bolt out the door and head straight to class, there’s no time to stop for coffee today.
Entering the lecture hall, I rush to my usual seat, doing my best to go unnoticed. I don't register the coffee waiting for me on my desk until I nearly knock it over when I go to sit.
I freeze, looking at the cup of my favorite coffee staring back at me. There's a note attached to it and I quickly snatch it. My eyes widen while gazing over the masculine handwriting.
Little Obsession ,
You’re mine. Accept it.
- Emmett
My eyes snap up to look for Emmett . He’s in his usual seat, drumming his fingers against the desk. As if he senses my stare, his eyes meet mine and he winks. They don’t linger and aren’t filled with the same indifference they've had these past weeks.
Instead , they burn with the same intensity as when his fingers were inside me. Where did his sudden change of heart come from? It was two weeks of radio silence and now he’s making sure I get my morning fix of coffee?
My mind races with irrational thoughts and lists every way he could’ve tampered with my drink. Did he poison it? Spit in it?
I hesitantly take a sip, smacking my lips to get a taste of anything foreign. But the coffee is surprisingly good. There’s nothing that leads me to believe it’s been altered. A blush creeps across my face at the thought of Emmett genuinely doing something nice for me. It’s unexpected and my stomach is doing somersaults. I don’t know if I’m flattered or creeped out.
I feel his eyes on me but I don’t dare look back at him for the remainder of class. When the lecture comes to a close, I hurry home, not wanting to be caught in his web for the fear of which version of him I might get. For the things he’ll make me feel.
Since I was caught up in my thoughts this morning, I didn’t get to go for my morning run. Checking the weather, it’s not too chilly out, so I can sneak in a quick couple of miles. I need to blow off steam and an orgasm simply isn’t enough when all my thoughts will forever remain as fantasies.
They have to. I can’t let my guard down and for what happened with Emmett to happen again.
I pull my hair up and change into a pair of leggings and a hoodie, then throw on some tennis shoes. Opening the front door, I'm hit with the crisp chill of the night air. You can tell that fall is just around the corner, my favorite time of year. I step out, do a quick warm-up on the porch, put in my headphones, and take off on my run.
After forty-five minutes, I’m sweating and my heart is pounding in my chest. I come to a stop and bend over, placing my hands on my knees while panting.
I’m not too far from my house so I settle on walking the rest of the way to let my heart rate slow. It’s a beautiful night. The chill wafts around me and helps to cool my heated skin. The darkened sky is splattered with stars, illuminating my path.
I walk through the front door, slip off my shoes, and call out, “ I’m home! Anyone here?”
While I was home earlier, the house was empty. Surely , someone would be home by now. Yet , no one responds. I guess I’m still the only one here. Turning around to face the door, I triple check the lock and make my way to the bathroom.
I toss my shoes next to the hamper and quickly undress. I disconnect my phone from my headset and allow the music to continue to play through the speaker.
I’m in the shower in seconds, washing away the perspiration, stress, and unwelcoming thoughts, watching every last bit flow down the drain. Finishing up, I wrap my towel around my body, then step out, closing the shower door behind me. I forgot to grab clothes before coming in here, so I do my skincare in my towel.
Holding the towel to my chest with one hand, I open the door with my free hand while humming the current song, Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter . As I walk into my room, my eyes land on a blood red envelope on my bed, which wasn’t there before.
I lean my head into the hallway and call out again, “ Is anyone home?” But I’m met with darkness and utter silence.
With my brows furrowed in confusion, I walk over to the bed and pick up the blank envelope. How did anyone know this was for me? I turn it over and carefully peel back the flap. There’s a folded letter inside. I look up and glance around, parano id that I’m being watched. I pinch the paper with two fingers and slowly pull it out, dropping the envelope as I unfold it.
My mouth drops at the contents of the letter.
“ What the fuck,” I whisper to the quiet room.