MEEKA'S POV::
"F*cking stop!" I snap, my voice ricocheting off the walls.
The woman freezes instantly.
I move before I can think, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up. "Get the hell out!" I spit, and she doesn't hesitate. She scrambles to her feet and rushes out immediately, the sound of her heels can break the tiles if they pound any harder than they are.
My chest rises and falls, breath ragged.
I turn to Slade, fury shaking through me. "You're disgusting."
He doesn't flinch even a little. He just leans back, watching me with that damn smirk tugging at his lips, like he's amused. Like this is a game.
That look burns through me, and I can't stand it.
I snatch my handbag from the chair like it personally offended me, and spin toward the door. My shoes strike the floor hard as I storm out, heat prickling behind my eyes.
God. Why did I come here? What the hell was I thinking? Did I really expect anything else from him?
He asked me to come here for this? For some twisted power play?
And most importantly, why the hell did I do what I just did?
What is wrong with me?
Well, I didn't do it because I was jealous. Why would I even be? I just couldn't stand the stupid shit they were doing, because it was disgusting.
My pulse hammers as I push through the lobby doors, the cool night air hitting my face. I keep walking fast toward the parking lot, my heart still in my throat.
And even as I do, I can't stop glancing back over my shoulder, hoping he's not following me, even though the other stupid half hopes he is.
Jesus.
By the time I reach my car, my hands are shaking so badly I almost drop the keys. I slide into the driver's seat and slam the door shut, the echo filling the silence that's pressing against my skull.
For a few seconds, I just sit there, breathing like I just ran a marathon.
I'm trying to calm the pounding in my chest. Trying not to see what I just saw.
But every time I close my eyes, it's there again.
His face. That smirk. And that woman on her knees.
"God!" I curse under my breath and jam the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life, and I pull out of the parking lot fast enough to make the tires screech.
I drive straight home, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles ache. My head's spinning, my heart's racing, and I can't decide if I'm angry at him or at myself.
Probably both.
By the time I pull into my driveway, I'm trembling. I stare at my front door through the windshield, the headlights illuminating the house that's supposed to feel like safety. But right now, it feels suffocating.
I can't stay here. I need a distraction, need to be around people.... someone.
Before I can stop myself, I shift the gear and turn the wheel, pulling out again. Minutes later, I'm on the road to Nathaniel's.
Maybe I just need to see him. Remind myself of what's right. Of what normal feels like.
I need to get Slade f*cking DeWitt, and that scene, out of my head.
I pull up in front of Nathaniel's house, stepping out of the car and heading straight inside.
Thankfully, neither of his parents are home.
Good.
Because I'm not ready to talk to anyone or answer anyone's unnecessary questions this night.
I go straight to Nathaniel's room and knock softly.
"Come in," his calm voice calls out.
When I step in, he's standing by the dresser, with a towel slung around his shoulders. Droplets of water trail down his chest, catching the light.
Looks like he just had his bath.
"Meeka?" His brows lift, surprise flickering across his face.
I ignore it and step closer, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling now?"
"A lot better." He still looks a little thrown. "You didn't say you were coming over."
"I don't need to book an appointment to see you, do I?" I say lightly, a teasing edge hiding the tightness in my chest.
"That's not what I meant," he replies with a small smile, reaching for his towel again.
Before he can, I take it from his hand. "Let me."
He doesn't protest. He just sits on the edge of the dresser, letting me towel his hair dry.
"I told you I'd check up on you after work, didn't I?" I say softly, fingers brushing through his hair.
"Yeah, you did. But I'm fine now. You shouldn't have stressed yourself coming to check on me again." he says, our eyes meeting through the mirror. "You look really tired," he adds softly. "Rough day at work?"
Rough day. The words echo in my head.
Yeah, if watching your fiancé's brother get sucked off by some woman in a hotel room counts as a rough day, then sure, I had a very rough one.
"You have no idea."
My fingers keep moving through his hair, slower now. The towel's dampness clings to my hand, the scent of his cologne faint beneath the steam.
I should stop thinking about it. About him.
But the harder I try, the clearer it gets.... Slade's voice, his damn devilishly handsome face when that woman was sucking him. And God, I can't believe that I'm.... I'm getting turned on right now, just thinking about it.
Shit!
My chest tightens. I blink fast, trying to shut it all out.
"Meeka?" Nathaniel's voice pulls me back. He's watching me through the mirror, concern clouding his features. "Are you okay?"
I swallow hard, forcing a smile that doesn't quite make it to my eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine."
But I'm not. I just need something to make it stop.... the noise in my head, the sudden urge that won't just go away.
Before I can think twice, my hands slip from his hair to his shoulders. He freezes a little at first, startled.
"Meeka?"
"Just... don't talk," I whisper. My voice cracks at the end, barely holding itself together.
His confusion flickers into silence, and in the space between our breaths, I lean in slowly, almost like I'm testing myself.
My heart's pounding so loud I can hear it.
Softly, I begin to kiss his body tentatively, until I finally face him and press my lips on his. I deepen the kiss after seconds, and when I pull away moments later, we're both panting, trying to catch out breaths.
Nathaniel's breath hitches slightly as I climb onto his lap, straddling him. His hands hover uncertainly by my hips, like he's afraid to touch me.
"Meeka," he says quietly, brows furrowing. "What are you doing?"
"I'm horny." The words tumble out before I can stop them. Sharp, unfiltered and desperate.
His expression flickers with a little surprise, then something else I can't tell.
"You're always horny, Meeka," he says with a half-sigh, half-laugh, the kind that lands like a slap instead of a joke.
Ouch.
My chest hurts, but I force a smirk anyway, hiding the sting under practiced nonchalance.
"And you're not always in the mood," I whisper, leaning in, brushing my lips against his jaw. "So what now? Should I start scheduling it?"
He exhales, tense. "That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" I murmur, kissing him again, firmer this time, like I'm trying to prove something neither of us understands.
He hesitates. I can feel it in the way his lips barely move, the way his hands rest limply on my waist instead of pulling me closer.
And still, I keep kissing him, harder, my hands lock on his damp hair.
I'm not ready to give up this time. I need him to fuck me. To fuck every thoughts of Slade out of my head. He's my fiance, and the only one who's thoughts should occupy my head.
Slowly, Nathaniel begins to kiss me back on his own accord.
I smile into his mouth, and begin to grind myself against him, earning me a groan from him.
His hands tighten around my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel the heat of him through every inch of space between us, and suddenly breathing feels impossible.
He lifts me onto the dresser, the wood creaking under us, but neither of us cares. His hands roam over me like he's searching for something he lost, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself believe he might actually want me.
God. I feel so hot that all I want right now is for him to fill me up right away.
Nathaniel's hands slide under my shirt, tracing the curves of my body, and I shiver with pleasure.
I moan out in pleasure as he takes off my shirt, unclasping my bra and leaving me bare. The cold from the air-condition hit me hard, setting me more on fire.
His mouth moves to my breasts, his lips and tongue teasing my nipples until I'm gasping in pleasure. I'm on the edge, ready for him.
Desperately, I begin to fumble for his belt, the metal clanking as I unbuckle it.
"I want you inside me right now." I whisper so desperately, my mouth finding his again as I pull his pants down with need.
But just when I'm about to pull his d*ck out, I hear a knock on the door.
We both freeze at the same time. And then before I can blink, another knock comes, firmer this time.
I press my forehead against his chest, voice unsteady. "Just ignore it…."
But his gaze flicks toward the door. "I think that's Mom."
"Then tell her you're busy," I mutter, half-pleading.
He exhales, already stepping back, readjusting himself. "We'll.… continue later. I should see what she wants."
"Nathaniel? Are you in there?" Came Victoria's voice from outside the door. Just like he had guessed.
And that's just it. The spell shatters.
Before I can say anything, he's already halfway across the room, and the silence he leaves behind hits harder than the interruption itself.
I slide off the dresser, shaking, anger and frustration knotting in my chest. I retreat into the bathroom and shut the door so hard the building shakes a little.
"F*ck you, Nathaniel." I whisper, pressing my palms against my head as I sit on the tub. "Shit, I'm losing it."