When We're Alone

Chapter fifteen

STONE

Ishouldbeglad at how well I piss Ava off, but there’s a reason I didn’t leave when I saw her from the doorway, sprawled across the lounge. She looked so relaxed, laughing lightly at the TV, that I wanted to be around her like this for a little bit. I never get to see her like this. She’s cordial at dinner and guarded at school; the only other time I’ve seen her so open is when she’s sleeping. Yet somehow, despite craving her lightness, I’m an unwelcoming bastard the second she speaks to me. This situation is the worst. She keeps to her word, not making conversation for the time it takes me to eat, and then I drag myself away from her presence to go to another shitty party.

The next evening I leave my room to go downstairs for dinner and Lewis comes out of Ava’s room, smirking when he sees me. Jealousy floods through me, which pisses me off. How dare she make me jealous of Lewis, of all fucking people? I can’t stop thinking about her. I came back late last night and sat in her chair, watching her sleep again. I was only meant to check she wasn’t out with Cole but couldn’t help myself, and now Lewis is here, in her room. I follow him down, and he leans back into me as I pass him.

“She’s as good as she looks like she’d be, brother.” My hand tightens into a fist, and before I take his head and smash it into the table, I turn back around.

“I’ll be right back,” I mutter. If I stay there, there will be violence. I need to fucking calm down. I’m nearly at the top of the stairs when she’s suddenly in front of me. She stops at the top, and I take the last couple of steps until we’re toe-to-toe. She’s in a knitted minidress with her legs bare. “You clean up well.” That was quick, from fucked to presentable in two minutes.

“I’m going out after dinner,” she explains.

“With who?”

“None of your business.”

“Ava—”

“Stone.” She’s taunting me. She knows how my body betrays me. Of course she does; she’s used to playing guys.

“Are you going to see Cole?”

“Why? Won’t you want to slip into my room later if I smell like someone else?”

Fuck. She knows. And hasn’t said anything. She thinks she’s got me all figured out.

“What if you smell like me when you go to him?” I ask as I take a step towards her, and she backs up into the wall. Her breath hitches in her throat, and her bright green eyes are sparkling as she looks up at me, pupils dilated. If she wants to be a slut, then so be it. I’ll take advantage of that too. I’m a man; I’m going to react to someone who looks and talks like she does.

“You wish,” she says quietly as her cheeks flush. Our lips part inches from each other, and she pushes lightly on my chest.

“Who’s the show for, Ava?” I grab her wrists and hold them above her head, pinning her to the wall. Her back arches, and her chest heaves with quick breaths. “It’s just you and me here, and we both know you want this.” I hold her wrists in one hand and drop the other, trailing the backs on my knuckles up her thigh.

“I could scream.”

“You could, but then Lewis would see you like this, panting and wet for me.” Confusion flashes across her face until I swipe a fingertip along her centre, proving that she is not only wet, but also bare under her dress. Fuck. I want to bury myself inside her. I know I shouldn’t be even entertaining the idea, I should stop, but I fucking can’t. She has me hook, line, and sinker, just like she has every other guy around here, it seems. “Is this what you want? Everyone panting for the dirty little slut?” Her eyes harden and she bucks her hips.

“I’m not a fucking slut.” I feel her breath against my lips.

“No? You’re not about to let me touch you while Lewis sits at the table waiting for us?”

“You think a little too much about your brother for someone who’s so hard.” That bitch. She doesn’t care about him at all—she has no conscience. But I guess neither do I right now, and I am indeed very hard. I smile wickedly at her as I push the hem of her dress up until I can see the part of her I’m after, and she gasps. I run a finger lightly along her seam and lift it between us, showing us both the evidence of her arousal before sucking it into my mouth. She bites her bottom lip and stifles a moan.

“You’re right. I am hard. What are you going to do about it?” She pulls at her wrists and bucks her hips again, but only succeeds in pushing herself against my erection. I raise a brow and she raises one back. I’m game if that’s how she wants to play it. I undo my jeans with one hand, freeing myself between us. “Are you going to let me use you right here, little slut?”

“I’m not a—” The words disappear into a gasp when I thrust myself against her, slipping between her thighs and rubbing against that most sensitive part of her. I want to taunt her, carry on like I’m degrading her, but fuck, she feels amazing. Pinned to the wall, dripping for me, I don’t feel anything but lust. I pull back, her arousal coating my length, and push forward again as her head falls back against the wall. I’m not even fucking her. Just being between her legs like this, thrusting against her wetness and her warmth, everything about her feels amazing.

A clatter of cutlery comes from downstairs but she doesn’t seem to notice, although it’s enough to bring me back to my senses. I could lose myself so easily in this girl, but I can’t. For one, I can’t have her, and I shouldn’t fucking want her. She’s drawn me in, like she has with everyone else she spends time with. I need to remember the situation here, but I can’t stop my hips—they’re pumping still, and she feels so fucking good. Quiet moans fall from her lips, and I realise I need to treat her like any other girl I would fuck at a party. I watch her face as her brow furrows and her mouth falls open, and just when she’s about to wreck me with the sight, I pull from between her thighs and replace them with my hand, leaving her clit wanting. Before she can reach her peak, I pump my fist and finishing myself off over her dress. Her hooded eyes widen in shock, and I drop her hands like they’re burning me, tucking myself away and wiping my hand on her dress before I turn.

“You might want to change, slut,” I say to her as I descend the stairs.