Raw - Aurora Belle - Страница 40
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She looks beautiful. Like the angel I always knew she was.
An angel…
I hate her for that. Why couldn’t she have been an asshole? It would’ve made things so much easier for me.
The hands on her breasts squeeze gently for a few seconds before they trail higher up her chest. Eyes still closed and swaying sensually, she uses one hand to squeeze the side of her neck, while the other slithers up past her ear to slide into her hair. She tangles her fingers into her dark locks, and her hips jerk suddenly.
The vision of Lexi in a sexual trance is enough to give me hardcore wood.
Her lips part in a silent sigh.
The hand squeezing her neck glides down slowly across her breast once more, then lower still. When the hand sliding down her body halts low on her stomach, my cock twitches.
My eyes trained on her face, I watch her closed eyes and parted lips with only one thing in mind.
I want her. Now.
I’m snapped from my thoughts when I hear cat calls. Looking around, my body turns rigid when I spot Lexi.
In the middle of the ballroom. Under the spotlight. In a haze.
Her hand disappears under her dress, rubbing her pussy through the tiny white G-string. The other hand gently pinching a nipple through the silky white fabric of her dress. Mouth parted, head thrown back in ecstasy.
Swallowing hard, I openly stare.
She’s fucking beautiful.
No reticence. Just living through the beat of the song.
A tall guy I’ve met a few times before lingers at the edge of her space before walking across the ballroom.
My brow furrows.
He walks up behind Lexi, wrapping one arm across her stomach, pulling her back to his front. I can’t hear it, but I see her mouth part a little more in what looks like a moan. She leans back into him, taking his hand, pulling it down her body and replacing it with hers at her mound.
My head pounds.
She starts a soft circling motion with her hips, and I know she’s rubbing her sweet ass into his dick.
The thing about my brain is that it’s damaged. Thoughts don’t get processed the way other people’s do.
In fact, the term think doesn’t apply to me.
Stalking across the ballroom, I reach Lexi’s front. Gripping her forearm, I pull her away from the fucker. Hard.
She stumbles, but I don’t notice.
I don’t notice, because tall guy is already on his back.
My fists pound into his face continuously. Hard and fast. Face contorted in anger, my chest heaves with every heavy breath I take.
A spatter of wet warmth spurts across my face.
Blood roars through my ears. I don’t hear the screaming and shouting for me to stop.
I can smell his fear.
His arms come up. He tries in vain to block the blows. Clenching my teeth, I lift my arm over my head, then bring my elbow down on his cheekbone full-force. The feel of it shattering beneath me brings on a wave of euphoria.
His body trembles and jerks as if being electrocuted.
Strong arms come around me from behind. I vaguely hear, “Fuck, Twitch! You’re killing him! Stop!”
Struggling, I’m lifted clean off the moaning, bloody mess in the center of the ballroom floor. More clearly this time, I hear, “You got him, bro. You got him. He gets it. You’re good now. It’s time to stop.” That comes from Happy.
Panting heavily, I shrug him off me.
Turning, my eyes scan the room, coming into contact with the terrified faces of my guests.
Happy hands me something. A handkerchief.
Taking it and wiping at the blood on my cheek and forehead, I say through heavy breaths, “Get out. Party’s over.”
But no one moves.
Stilling, I watch them a moment before stepping forward and booming, “Get the fuck out of my goddamn house! Anyone still here in three fucking minutes, I’ll escort out myself. In a fucking body bag!”
They scramble, finally getting that I could actually do it, and not taking their chances in finding out.
Smart.
Stalking over to a still-dancing Lexi in the corner of the room to no beat, I grip her upper arm and all but drag her behind me. Halfway up the stairs, she stumbles and bursts into laughter, as if it’s the funniest thing she’s ever done in her life.
And it makes my blood boil.
I hate myself for craving the state of high she’s in. Like a petulant child, I’m taking out my jealousy on her. Pulling her up much too tightly, she yelps in surprise; I pull her along all too quickly. Once in my room, I open the door to the bathroom and throw her in. She stumbles and ends up on her knees on the bath mat. She giggles, and rage coils in my gut. Reaching past her to the shower, I turn the cold water on and spit, “Wash his smell off you. Now.”
Then I shut the door and pace, balling my fists tight, jaw ticking.
Once I think I’m no longer homicidal, I breathe deeply and sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for Lexi to finish her shower.
Five minutes pass. I hear her singing, so I give her some more time.
Another five minutes pass and my brow furrows. The singing has stopped.
Something pushes me to check on her, and when I open the bathroom door, my heart skips a beat.
Still in her clothes on the floor of the shower, she shivers uncontrollably.
Fuckin’ hell!
Reaching in for her, the spray hits me and it’s freezing. She just spent ten minutes in an ice bath.
Turning off the water, I yell, “The fuck is wrong with you?” As if it’s her fault and not mine for leaving a woman who has never used cocaine before to shower alone.
I’m pissed at myself. But I’ll never admit it.
Her lips are blue, her skin ashen, and her wide blue eyes watch me fearfully.
Placing a hand on my hip, I dip my head and pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to calm the fuck down. Then, gently as I can, I reach out for her and say, “C’mon, baby. I gotta get you warm or you’re gonna get sick.”
That’s not a maybe. That’s a definite. But I gotta get her out and she looks scared. She’s having a blow freak-out.
She blinks a moment before reaching out a shaking hand to take mine. I pull her to stand, but she shakes so much she almost looks like she’s having a fit. Reaching for the hem of her dark dress – which is now pasted to her body – I lift it over her head and make quick work of her panties. Taking a big fluffy towel, I wrap her up and walk her out the bathroom and over to my bed.
I sit her on the edge, while I turn on the electric blanket and strip down to nothing.
I’m almost ashamed of myself for being hard, but with Lexi, I can’t help it. It just happens.
Removing the towel from her shivering body, I lie down then pull her down next to me. I wrap my arms around her. My entire body breaks out in goosebumps when her body meets mine.
Dammit. Fuck!
She’s freezing. So damn cold that the front of my body gets a pins-and-needles sensation through it. My arms tighten around her, knowing this is my fault; I accept the pain of her near-frozen body on mine. Punishment to myself, if you will. The electric blanket works quickly, and I rub her arms and back for a few minutes before her body stops shivering. Her teeth are still chattering when she asks, “Why didn’t you come for me? I was calling you.”
My chest feels like a bullet just went through it.
Feeling guilty as fuck, I respond quietly, “I didn’t hear you, baby.”
She buries her cold nose into my neck and whispers, “I called and called, but you didn’t come.”
If I had a heart, it would break.
Then I do something that even shocks me. Rubbing her back, I issue the first apology of my life. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve been watching you.”
She doesn’t respond, but her teeth chatter and she nods into my neck.
The childlike move pierces me like a knife to the side. I’m suddenly protective of Lexi.
What a load of shit.
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