Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
The way she makes me feel.
When our eyes locked from across the room, I had just walked back into the VIP area after smoking a blunt with someone I knew. I was never much for the upscale scene. To me, they all seemed pretentious. It didn’t surprise me that Julius was pulling out all the stops to impress Isla.
This wasn’t for me. It was just an excuse for him to show off to her. The urge to inhale a deep, steady breath as my whole body tingled, feeling like my nerve endings were on fire. She walked out of the hallway where the bathroom was located, only to be instantly swallowed by the crowd. The song switched over to “Satisfaction” by Benny Benassi.
Suddenly, I stepped closer to Isla, close enough to see that her eyes were dilated.
Bright.
Glossy.
Fucking beautiful.
She’s drunk.
It hit me like a hole to the head, all the substances I induced to forget.
I could touch it.
Taste it.
Feel it.
It was everywhere.
She smiled at me, and I swear it lit up the entire room.
It was her.
Me.
Us.
The bright lights and lasers were messing with my vision, making my eyes jitter and causing me to feel way more fucked up than I thought I was. My head spun to the DJ's music as the lights pulsed around us.
We stood there on the dance floor in a corner, away from prying eyes. I knew it’d make her more comfortable to be out of direct sight. We started dancing, bonding to the music's melody.
Every beat.
Every drop.
We were right there with it.
Music had always been our biggest connection. It didn’t matter what genre it was. We both respected its power. It made everything go away, and in the same breath, it made everything hit that much harder.
More intense.
More catastrophic.
Its seductive beat lured me to her. This song was made for sex.
Rough.
Dirty.
Desperate.
Sweaty sex.
I stared at her with the same swagger and confidence I always exuded. Another thing I liked about her was how she looked at me. Since the first time I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from hers. She had this magnetic pull that instantly drew me in.
It was deeper.
Real.
More meaningful.
A connection I couldn’t explain, growing stronger with each second that passed between us. I knew she felt it. I couldn’t get over her skintight dress, which accentuated all the curves of her body.
I closed my eyes and just felt all around me, the song pounding into my bloodstream.
I didn’t notice that my hands were all over. I could feel the goose bumps and sensations coursing through her skin.
It was exhilarating.
Blissful.
Exciting.
A sense of calm washed over me as I was there with her. I had no idea how much control she’d still hold over me. Mainly, it was when I was fucked up.
If anything, it felt right.
She felt right.
“You feel good in my arms, Kitty. How do you make a black dress look this good?”
She set her hand on my chest. “I think you’ve given this a little too much thought.”
“I don’t think I’ve given it enough.”
I didn’t expect to feel the surge of emotions again so quickly, but I should have known better. If our relationship thus far had been any indication, it would be filled with unexpected feelings in one way or another.
I felt as if these past few months proved how much I’d be willing to lose for her. I kept it to myself, leaving distance between us. I was trying to be the better brother, but between her little gestures I’d catch when she didn’t know I was looking or how her wardrobe went from Wednesday Addams to Morticia, I was losing my restraint.
Maybe it was my brothers’ effect on her, or maybe, just maybe, it was mine. In the past year, she’d done a complete one-eighty. I guess you could say she blossomed in front of our eyes or some shit. Even her body flourished, leading me to think she hadn’t been eating before. She was curvy in all the right places now, and I found it hard to ignore.
It wasn’t like my brother had officially claimed her. They weren’t exclusive. If anything, they were possibly dating. I didn’t know what the hell he was waiting for. We were nothing alike. If she were mine, everyone would know it, and I wouldn’t be beating around the bush like he was. I mean, how many nights could she sleep in his bed, and his ass was still sleeping on the couch.
My brother was either a pussy or a saint.
He’d like to say the latter, while the former was a much more accurate description for me.
Plus, I hated having to keep her at arm’s length. She was literally driving me to get fucked up, which was never my MO. My state of mind at that moment, being there with her, in this compromising position where it was just her and me, seemed to be our biggest problem.