his voice awakens goosebumps on my skin.
How can he pack so much sexual energy in three mere words?
My body catches fire from his lips and voice on my ear. I squirm in my seat, fighting to not make a sound or lean into his touch.
“What if I want it to be about me?” His voice deepens with darkness so tangible I taste it on my tongue.
My head snaps in his direction. He watches me closely, but it’s not intimidation. It’s almost like…he’s seeing me in a different light.
A new light.
A brighter light.
“Didn’t you…” My voice catches and I clear my throat. “Didn’t you say you don’t want anything to do with me?”
“You keep barging in anyway.” He licks the shell of my ear one more time. “It’s time I trap you.”
I glide the pen against my lower lip and bite down on it. I sit at the pool, a notepad on my legs, but I’m not studying.
My gaze keeps flitting to the backyard—or, more specifically, to the sleek, cut abdomen and back. They glisten with sweat as Asher switches from short runs to push-ups.
I mean, the least he can do is wear a damn T-shirt. But no, he always works out in just shorts as if he’s offended by anything on top.
It’s not that my eyes are complaining, but there’s a tiny little problem with my body becoming hot and bothered by the view.
The simplest solution would be to stop watching, but for the life of me, I can’t keep my eyes off him.
He’s like a magnet and I’m helpless steel. He’s the fire and I’m the moth waiting to be burned.
I wish this weird infatuation were because of that tousled hair sticking to his forehead, the six-pack cut to perfection, the broad shoulders, or the intricate tattoo rippling up his bicep.
I wish it were all about the unfairly handsome face or the ‘fuck you’ aura he exudes so well. I really wish the tugging and pulling at the bottom of my stomach were only because I’m drawn to his exterior charm.
But that’s not, is it?
Something wild and crazy lurks under the surface between us. This twisted connection started that first day in the hospital, and it’s refused to stop ever since.
Like a current of water, the harder I fight it, the stronger it pulls me under.
My phone pings, and I nearly drop my pen. Shifting to face forward, I check my messages.
It’s my group chat with Lucy and Naomi.
Lucy: Let’s meet. Reina? Nao?
Naomi: Fine, but don’t you dare go sappy on me.
I grin as I type.
Reina: Sappy is my middle name, dude.
Luce sends a laughing emoji, and Naomi sends a GIF of a girl rolling her eyes.
They’re seriously the only two I find comfort with. Despite her tough act, Naomi cares and is very mushy inside. Lucy is just Lucy, nice and supportive even if it affects her own comfort.
A notification from Instagram appears on my screen.
It’s a message. Cloud003.
My smile falls and my heart rate picks up. I can hear the roaring in my ears as I click on it.
Cloud003: I’ve been thinking a lot about your lips around my dick lately.
Cloud003: Or your pussy. I’m not picky.
My cheeks heat as I watch my surroundings. Asher is running in the distance, his back rippling, and no one else is around.
Reina-Ellis: Screw off or I’ll report this to the police.
Cloud003: The same police who are investigating you for murder?
How the hell does he know that?
Cloud003: Admit it, my slut. You want my cock as much as it wants you.
Reina-Ellis: Whatever happened between us is over. Move the fuck on.
The only one I can think about in a sexual way is the one running in the distance with earbuds in.
This mysterious asshole on Instagram does nothing for me. Old Reina was weird like that.
Cloud003: We’ll see about that.
I exit Instagram altogether and lift my head. Jason heads toward me, smirking at his phone.
When his dark eyes meet mine, he slips it in his jacket and loses the smirk.
I glance at my phone then back at him.
That…can’t be possible. Jason isn’t Cloud003.
He can’t be.
“Hey, Princess.” He smiles down at my sitting position near the pool.
Weʼve been studying together for a few weeks now. I help him out with his tests. In return, Jason has been sort of like my personal trainer to help me get back in shape before I return to being thrown in the air.
“Hey, Jace.” I watch him closely as if seeing him for the first time.
The mocha