11. Tori #2
I just nodded this time. My eyes had drifted upward of their own accord, following Stefan’s strong arms to his capable hands and beautiful mouth.
There was something so sexy and magnetic about him that I was even turned on watching him eat, unable to tear my eyes away. He seemed to savor his food with a focused pleasure that reminded me of the intensity he’d brought to the bedroom.
My body still craved his. Wanted him desperately. Wanted him now.
It was sick and I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself, the way I responded to his presence.
The room was still full of tension, but it had shifted. It wasn’t just frustration or anger or fear. There was something more potent there. Repressed and highly charged sexual tension. It was so strong, I tightened my grip around my silverware as if I could squeeze it out of me.
Stefan’s eyes followed the gesture, but his expression didn’t change. If he was worried that I might do something with my knife, he didn’t show it, but I doubted he ever worried when it came to me. Not when he was so fully aware of the power that he had over me.
I gave up on trying to eat and pushed my chair away from the table.
Whatever he was doing right now—with the food and the small talk and the feigning interest about my classes—it had to be an act. He wasn’t really interested in hearing about my schoolwork. He wanted something from me. I just didn’t know what.
He looked up at me and our eyes locked. My heart leapt in my chest. Those eyes of his. So green. So intense. I was equally aroused and frightened.
I quickly broke our gaze. “I need to go study.”
“Such a hard worker,” Stefan said. “Always got your nose in a book. Sometimes it’s good to give yourself a night off, though. You know what I mean?”
He smiled.
“Yeah…” I said.
Narrowing my eyes, I picked up my plate.
Was he fucking with me? Was this his way of trying to get me to admit something about Friday night, or about Gavin?
Or was he trying to figure out if I knew that he’d caught me when I was out at the club—and had dragged me home when I was passed out?
I felt like I was losing my mind. Like he was gaslighting me on purpose.
Bringing my dishes to the kitchen sink, I decided that I was done with this farce.
If Stefan planned to stay in tonight, so he could corner me into awkward, stilted conversations and scheme against me all the while, then I would have to leave.
There was no way I could stand to be in the same house with him anymore.
Not like this. I needed space to think. To breathe.
My lingering confusion about Friday night made me too uneasy and nervous to stay home while Stefan was here.
Not that my body seemed to care about my concerns.
I still wanted him. Wanted to finish unbuttoning his shirt, sliding down to my knees as I tugged down his pants.
I missed the feel of his strong, sure hands on my bare skin. The feel of his body against mine.
I tried to push those feelings away.
I’d take myself out tonight. Find my own fun.
Heading into my bedroom, I went immediately for my closet. As I examined potential outfits, I pulled out my phone, intending to text Lila and Audrey and Diane to see if they wanted to go out with me, blow off a little steam.
Then I remembered that they’d all but abandoned me when I’d been drugged and incapacitated, that they’d delighted in the possibility that I’d gone home from the club with a stranger and cheated on my husband.
Were they really the kind of people I wanted to spend a Monday night out with?
Were they really the kind of people I wanted to spend any time with?
I knew I was blowing things out of proportion in my current state, but at this point, the only person I felt I could really trust was Gavin.
I knew that he’d be happy to meet me anytime and anywhere, and would keep an even better eye on me after what I’d been through at 312.
What was it he’d said, just this afternoon?
That he was there for me. That I’d always have somewhere safe to go with him.
I felt better just thinking about his warm brown eyes.
With a decisive tug, I yanked a tight, blush pink dress off a hanger and threw it on the bed. It was a gorgeous Herve Leger bodycon bandage dress that had a sultry vintage lounge singer flair. It hit at the knee, but showed off lots of cleavage and cupped my every curve.
I had to lose my bra and panties and do a ridiculous wiggle-type dance just to get into it, but it was worth it.
Tonight, I was going all out. I’d let down my hair, bust out the lipstick, and let myself have fun.
There was no way I’d be able to walk into a club dressed like this and not have every eye turn toward me.
I’d dance and flirt and forget all about Stefan.
And I’d definitely forget about the impact his sexy stare had had on me.
I brushed out my hair and gave it a shot of hairspray underneath to add volume, slipped on my stilettos, and gave my makeup a quick refresh.
Then, standing in front of the closet mirror, I inspected my outfit one last time from head to toe.
I wasn’t one to brag, but between the bombshell hair, the second skin of a dress, and my nude lip/smoky eye combo, I looked hot.
With the lack of panties and the length of the skirt, I’d be revealing far too much if I dared even bend over, but it didn’t matter.
I had no plans to sit at all. I planned to spend the whole night on the dance floor, forgetting everything that had happened over the last few days.
I’d lose myself in the crush of the crowd, in the pounding bass of music, in the adoring gaze of men who would clamor to buy me drinks.
But this time, I’d stay sober. I’d stay in control.
I felt great. For the first time since Friday night, I felt like myself again. But better. Like a sexier, stronger version of myself.
I was ready to go out. Ready to have fun.
Grabbing my black Chanel bag and my phone, I headed out of my room, my thumb already scrolling for Gavin’s number. I’d show him that I was someone worth waiting for.
But as my heels click-clacked on the marble tile of the foyer, I heard footsteps behind me.
Spinning around, I found Stefan standing inches away. My heart leapt to my throat as I let out a soft gasp.
His voice low and dangerous, he said, “Where, exactly, do you think you’re going?”