“What are you doing here Barrett?” I ask, exasperated, and suddenly completely exhausted. “Shouldn’t you be at some one-percenter party, letting one of your little followers suck you off or whatever?” I gripe, only serving to anger myself at the thought of some little bitch all over him. What the hell is wrong with me?! I shouldn’t care what chick is all over Barrett. I DO NOT care what chick is all over him.
Giving me his cocky signature smirk, Barrett just banters back, “Jealous, sweetheart?”
“No, Definitely not,” I scoff, “I couldn’t care less who or what you do in your spare time.”
Barrett takes a step towards me, crowding me and forcing me to step back in order to maintain some space between us. We continue this dance until my back hits the bedroom wall.
“You sure about that? You sound awfully sour for someone who doesn’t give a damn.” He goads, his face so close to mine he doesn’t need to raise his voice above a whisper. He pushes his heavenly muscular body up against my own, causing all sorts of goosebumps to erupt over my skin as his body heat collides with mine, igniting a raging inferno.
He brings his lips close to mine, our pants in sync as we breathe in each other’s air. I can feel his breath against my lips as his hand strokes down my arm, causing me to shiver and eliciting a knowing grin from him.
“I think you might care more than you want to, more than you’re letting on. Your body definitely contradicts what you’re saying,” he murmurs against my lips as his other hand toys with the waistband of my leggings before he pushes his fingers underneath them. He groans when he realises I’m not wearing any panties.
My chest is heaving and I can’t do anything but pant in shallow breaths as his fingers slowly, teasingly, move around to the front of my pants, getting achingly close to my hot core.
Barrett continues to look me in the eyes, making me feel like he can see past all the walls and barriers I’ve erected over the years, right into my soul; into my very being.
Just as his fingers stroke agonisingly gently over my clit, teasing me, I buck up into him, and his lips crash down on mine in a hungry kiss, the last binds of his restraint gone. We both consume each other as though we need one another more than oxygen.
His fingers circle my clit a couple of times before he dips them into my hot centre, causing me to release a throaty groan. Moving back to my clit, he continues to rub it with practiced ease.
Barrett is definitely no novice at getting a girl off with his fingers. I’m in frigging paradise right now. I can already feel an orgasm coming.
Dipping back into my pussy, he continues to pump two stealthy fingers in and out at a fast pace as his thumb continues circling my clit, and I repeatedly buck up into his hand, riding his fingers like my life depends on it.
Way too soon, I feel my orgasm crashing over me, causing me to cry out. Barrett swallows my moans of pleasure, his lips never leaving mine, as I scream through the orgasm and start to come back down to reality.
Our kisses become less frantic, more passionate, and deep before tapering off, and I’m left being cradled in his embrace, feeling, for the first time since I arrived here; hell, for the first time since I was a young child, safe and protected and cared for. It doesn’t make sense considering my history with Barrett, but in this moment, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. How have I never experienced this feeling before?
Pulling back so I’m still in his embrace, but I can look him in the eye, I start to open my mouth, wanting to tell him about his father, and about everything else I heard tonight.
“Barrett,” I whisper, and he continues to look at me, a softness in his eyes that I’ve never seen. Usually his eyes glint with humour and flirtiness, but none of that is present right now. His easy-going front has been dropped and I’m seeing a rare glimpse of the real Barrett.
He waits patiently for me to go on. “I…” I start, but stop before I can say anything else.
I can’t tell him. I can’t let him see how shaken up I am by this evening’s events. I can’t let him see that vulnerability. He’s Preston’s friend, and the two of them have gone out of their way to make my life here miserable. Even if Preston seems to be the main instigator, Barrett has been his willing companion.
I lost myself for a moment there, got caught up in all the pheromones flying around in the air, but what we just did doesn’t change anything. It’s one thing to share myself with him sexually, but to open myself up to him emotionally, I can’t let that happen. I won’t give him the power to hurt me like that.
Having gained some perspective, I place my hands on his chest and push him back, breaking the moment. He sees the change in my eyes, not resisting or arguing with me as I put some distance between us, slamming my mental walls into place.
I can’t believe I just let Barrett kiss me. Shit, I just let him give me the best orgasm of my life. It’s just as well common sense returned before I gave him any more of myself. He has a way of making me feel vulnerable, making me want to drop the walls I keep up. I can’t give him those parts of me. If he broke them, it would destroy me.
I can’t even look him in the eye, feeling too exposed after what we just shared. Instead, I wrap my arms around my waist, attempting to hold myself together, while Barrett, realising he’s no longer welcome in my room, steps back until there are several feet between us, giving me plenty of space to regain some of my mental fortitude.
Clearing his throat, I notice him reaching down to adjust himself.
“Uh, right, well I just wanted to check you were ok,” he mutters awkwardly, rubbing his hand up the back of his neck. “I’ll, uh, leave you alone then.”
He makes his way over to my bedroom door, but just before he opens it he partly turns back towards me.
“You looked stunning this evening, not that you don’t usually, but you looked particularly,” he pauses to find the right word, “fierce tonight.” He finally finishes, leaving my heart a stuttering mess as he closes the door behind himself and disappears into the night.
Chapter 16
BARRETT
Parties, galas, soirée’s, whatever you want to call them, are a common occurrence in Crescentwood. I’m pretty sure every newborn baby here has their own designer suit bought and fitted for them, ready for such occasions.
I, myself, have been to so many of these shindigs that they all just blend together. However, this one is different from all the others. This will be the first time we have been inside the Montgomery house, making it the prime time to do some snooping.
Which is exactly what I did. I just don’t know what to make of what I found out. I had already decided to poke around in Robert's office, so when the opportunity arose to sneak away during the party, I took it.
I was surprised when I found none other than Sophie pressed up against the office door, doing her own lurking. Before I could get close enough to hear anything that was being said in the room, or to alert Sophie to my presence, she ducked out of view and the door suddenly swung open as Charles Donaghue stepped out.
As quickly as I could, I hid behind some ridiculous statue so he wouldn’t see me as he strode up the hall towards me, and continued on by.
I remained in my hiding place, waiting for Sophie to walk by, but, as the minutes ticked on, nothing happened. Just as I peered around the statue to see what she was up to, the office door swung open again, and out stepped her father, looking murderous as anything when his eyes landed on Sophie, hovering just outside his door.