Earlier, I had to leave before I sank even deeper into the conversation – before the conversation became something else, morphed and my desire made itself known.
She looked so damn shy and alluring and beautiful and mine when she was talking about her desire to be an actress. She bit her lip and glanced down at the ground, only meeting my eye at short intervals, as though she could barely stand to be looked at when discussing her dreams.
That caused an inferno to blaze up inside of me, a surging fire when I thought about the shyness flooding into her expression. She doesn’t need to be cloaked in so much nervousness when her voice is that of an angel, when I know she’s talented and that she’s going to make it.
I chuckle and close my eyes, massaging the bridge of my eyebrows.
How do I know a woman I just met is going to make it as an actor?
My thoughts are stampeding down the most ridiculous avenues, into places that should make no sense. I don’t know this woman, this twenty year old curvy goddess, with her gorgeous juicy breasts and her full kissable lips. And yet I feel like I do know her, like I’ve been waiting for her my whole life.
Groaning, I sit up and run a hand through my hair. My body is still sore from the workout from earlier, but the desire to put myself through another few sets surges up inside of me.
I stand and pace up and down the bedroom, in front of the window. The moonlight is coating the lake and shimmering across it, but then the clouds drift across and block it from sight. There are few stars visible, most of them trapped behind the thick black shield of clouds.
“What do you think, boy?” I murmur, glancing down as Tanker pads over to my feet and curls up. “You think we’re going to get a storm?”
He yawns and rests his chin against my barefoot.
I smirk and lean down, stroking him behind the ear.
But even something as simple as stroking Tanker provokes a whole torrent of memories to rush through me, my mind filled with the way Rayla looked when she leaned down to feed him. I remember the way her breasts danced for me, the way her ass seemed to scream out for me to touch it, grab it, claim it.
Sighing, I turn and walk quietly from the room. I wouldn’t normally have any need to be quiet during my nightly wanderings, but I know that Rayla is probably asleep right now.
The cabin is large – there’s a library, four bedrooms, a large living room and kitchen, a separate dining area, gym, and sauna – but it’s so quiet out here in the countryside, every noise feels amplified. I walk down the hallway and into the kitchen, heading over to the fridge and opening it.
The yellow light flooding against my bare torso, the coolness refreshing against my burning skin.
Maybe I should’ve put on some clothes before I came out here, but old habits die hard, and I’ve never felt the need to wear more than my underwear when I’m in the cabin.
And hell, it’s not like Rayla’s going to be awake at two in the morning, wandering the house…
The world is a funny thing sometimes, playing its tricks because of course Rayla chooses this exact moment to walk into the kitchen.
“Oh,” she murmurs.
I turn away from the fridge, forgetting my nighttime snack, to find her standing there in a bathrobe that shows tempting slices of her thighs. She hugs it tighter around herself, but she can’t hide her bra peeking out from the top, tempting me to rush at her and grab her, palm her breasts, massage her smooth flesh.
“I didn’t expect anyone to be out here,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I stalk over to her, finding it difficult to form words, not that I’d know what to say even if I could form words right now. Her body is so damn curvy, every inch of her made purposefully to drive me wild.
“Were you getting a midnight snack too?” she whispers.
I nod, pausing when I’m so close to her I can scent her need dancing in the air. I can scent her lust and her shivering desire, her aching need to be claimed.
She smells like shampoo and flesh and, fuck, and just-Rayla.
“What were you going to get?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. Something meaty. Something I could sink my teeth into.”
I wonder if she knows I’m talking about her fleshy thighs, her voluptuous tits… if she knows I’m talking about bending her over the kitchen island and sliding my hands over her perfect luscious ass, and then bringing my mouth close and nibbling softly, kissing until I get closer and closer to her hole.
Fuck.
I need to think of Millie, of the horror which would scour across her features if she ever knew how badly I’m lusting over her best friend.