The longer I pictured her, the easier it became to note subtle details I’d overlooked, such as the cheap jewelry. The few times I’d spotted her began to add up. Was she a student? Students didn’t live in this section of the city, at least not in this building.
Her age, I decided, had to be around twenty-two, so I likely had her beat in life experience. Remembering her vulnerable eyes, my fantasy shifted from seducing her to simply comforting her.
These men were way too old for her. She should know better. I imagined kissing her and holding her, and never once would she look to me with such uncertainty because I had nothing but decent intentions. Okay, I had filthy intentions, but I’d make sure she had fun too. With all those other men, there didn’t seem to be any balance. The scales were tipped in their favor, and I wasn’t sure how, but with me, Avery would understand how dating could be fun.
10
Avery
“Would you like insurance?”
“Yes, on all six, please.” The limit for postal insurance was four hundred dollars, so I was shipping my mother six tightly taped boxes of cold, hard-earned cash. All for the price of letting some fat pig breathe into my ear at an uptown bar and stare down my cleavage while taking faceless pictures of my body for four hours.
It was worth it. I had to keep telling myself that until I believed it to be true. But my dignity took a hit this week no amount of money could compensate. It wasn’t about what others saw, but what I endured privately. I might have escaped guilt, proving I’d do more than most women would, but I’d never actually sell my body for sex. But shame was a sticky thing.
The following night I had a gala with Micah scheduled. My dress was recycled couture, and my jewels were the same paste garbage I always wore, but they looked excellent. I wore my hair slicked into a smart ponytail, and my makeup was extreme, giving me the devastating look of a woman on the catwalk in Milan.
Not wanting any drama, I decided to wait in the lobby for Micah to arrive, but Noah caught me locking up, and there was something different about the way he watched me.
His eyes were too watchful, his usual nonchalance gone. His focus unapologetically followed my every move and I hated it. I wanted the old Noah stare back, but I knew our last encounter spoiled any chance of that happening.
“Another appointment?”
My molars locked, my mood shifting from regretful to downright pissed. “Why don’t we do each other a favor and keep to our own sides of the building?”
Hands deep in his suit pockets, he held my gaze and dramatically stepped into my half of the hallway. Then he took another step. And another until he had me backed against my door.
I didn’t understand his game. Did he actually think this sort of taunting would get me into bed with him?
My chin tipped up to hold his stare. “If this is flirting, it’s not working. Excuse me, I have an appointment.”
He glanced at my dress. “You’re a busy girl, Avery.”
And you’re a dick. “Excuse—”
“Why a different date every night?” Something flashed in his eyes. Beneath the purposeful intimidation hid a spark of curiosity and possibly a hint of jealousy. “Let’s call it what it is. You’re not off to a business meeting dressed like that.”
I didn’t have time for this—whatever it was.
His lashes lowered as his gaze traveled down the front of my dress, held at my nails, my purse, and lifted to the rhinestone necklace at my throat and then to my glossy lips leaving me feeling all too exposed.
Something in his stare shook my confidence, and I couldn’t afford to be off my game tonight. What did he see when he looked at me? Why did I care? What was this weird hold he had over me, this instant jumble of uncertainty I suffered every time I entered his presence?
It seemed a contradicting sensation that taunted me and tempted me. His eyes, missing nothing, seemed to silently call to me as if promising the truth might set me free. I had the strangest sense that I could tell him secrets and he’d listen without judgment, which either made him incredibly transparent or me a complete idiot.
But what if this teasing persona was merely an act meant to frustrate me enough to let him in? Playground taunting to get a peek up the new girl's dress...
I shook my head, almost believing it. It used to be my nature to believe everyone hid a little good inside, but I wasn’t that girl anymore. He might be trying to get into my pants, but he was just my nosey neighbor. He wasn’t my friend.
I hardened my stare. “Back off.”
The side of his mouth quirked. “I think you like me this close.”
“I think you’re delusional.”
My heart rattled behind my ribs as my body pressed against the support of the door. What the hell was wrong with me? He was cornering me, goading me, and I was allowing it—maybe even enjoying it on some twisted level.
Enough.
I lifted my chin, hiding any sense that he might be intimidating me. “One of these days you’re going to push your luck with me, and it won’t end well for you.”
“Oh, I disagree.”
The clear vision of my hand slapping across his beautiful face flashed through my mind, and my body warmed, liquid heat pulling slowly through my veins the way it absolutely shouldn’t. Oh, I’d love to hurt him just enough to prove a point.
“Don’t pretend to be indifferent to me, Avery. You’re getting aroused. I can see it in the way your breath just quickened, and your cheeks are pinker than usual. Your eyes are darker, too, and your tits are pressing so hard against your dress my fingers are itching to touch them. A hundred bucks say your panties are wet.”
“I think you have a gambling problem.”
“I think you should admit I turn you on.”
I might have been slightly aroused, but he’d be whimpering if he saw into my head, saw the ways I imagined punishing him for being such a colossal shithead.
He had no clue what really turned me on. “Not for the reason you think.”
His half smile stretched into an even grin, and he leaned closer. “No?”
“No,” I rasped.
I could see it so clearly, his body stretched beneath mine in all its glory. Taut muscle and sinew wearing a sheen of sweat as I teased him into a needy frenzy. His body pulsing with desire while I denied him every pleasure and inflicted little nips of pain.
I’d track my nails down his chest, leaving slightly raised trails as he arched into my touch. My breath would tease his cock, but I wouldn’t touch him. Torment, blow, scrape… He’d beg so prettily. I bet I could make him come without ever using more than my words.
Then, when he was just about to cry out, I’d grip him hard enough to force it back. He’d jerk at the repudiation, fight it, try to hide the struggle, and fail. And then he’d beg for forgiveness, accepting I was the one in total control.
My gaze lifted to his mouth, and I fought the urge to drag my tongue over his lips. I wanted to wrench his head back, my fist gripping tightly in his beautiful hair. If he was a good boy, I might let him fuck me, but my way, on my terms.
He’d do everything I commanded and make me come as many times as I wanted. He’d worship me, beg for me, and never once think he could outmaneuver me like he thought he was doing now.