CHAPTER15
I’m tempted,sorely tempted, to reach out and stroke him through his pants, but I don’t. The last thing I need to do is to give him more mixed signals. Because I won’t give in to him again.
Right?
He only helped me to some extent. He brought me here instead of the gas station, like I asked, and all because of some flimsy excuse that he forgot something. A condom or how fun it is to tease me or because he just wanted another excuse to bring me here.
I hate this, that I’m here, but I also don’t stop him as he closes the distance between us, cradles my face in his large hands, and kisses me deeply.
Do I kiss him back?
Yes, yes, I do.
I shouldn’t.
Shouldn’t kiss him.
Shouldn’t lean into him.
Shouldn’t moan against his lips because that is only going to encourage him.
Just like my hand reaching down after all to stroke him through his jeans.
“Fuck,” he mumbles as he draws back. He hisses through his teeth.
“Do you like that?” I ask, pretending to be innocent, rubbing him just as slowly since I’ve started but applying more pressure now.
“You know I do.”
“Ah, but do you deserve it?”
He groans. “That’s up to you to decide.”
Hmm. I like that answer very much, but is he just pretending to give me power?
I keep rubbing as I appraise his handsome face. His eyes go from half-lidded to entirely shut, and I relish this, basking in the hold I have over him. To torture him, I slow down my rubbing even more.
His eyes fly open, and he literally growls as he grips my shoulders and gives me a punishing kiss. I’m left breathless by the time he pulls back, and he reaches for the bottom hem of my shirt. Before I can think better of it, my shirt is already off. Thankfully, I’m not wearing a tank top, so I’m wearing a bra at least.
“How about a hand bra?” he asks.
I hesitate. While I appreciate his asking, I really should put a stop to this. I should, but he’s removing his shirt, and fuck, I forgot how chiseled his body is. He really does look like a Greek god, all muscular but also lean, not too built like a bodybuilder. Just right.
But when he reaches for his zipper, I step back. “I don’t need a hand bra. What I need is gas, and if you won’t help, then I’ll walk.”
“There’s no need for that,” Rob says.
I wait for him to get upset like he had the other night, to feel entitled because he wants to be repaid for helping me, but he just picks up my shirt from where he dropped it and actually puts it back on me because he puts on his own shirt.
“I’ll take you back to your car,” Rob says, and that’s precisely what he does. He takes me back there and then leaves me there all alone.
So much for his helping. God, I’m such an idiot. At least we didn’t go too far. My stopping him from stripping us too much had been the right call, clearly. He might’ve said a lot of good things and actually groveled on his knees and everything, but clearly, all he wanted was sex and nothing more.
It’s not an easy pill to swallow. When the hell will I get over him already? I need to, desperately. There are other fish in the sea, a ton of them here on campus, but I’m sure just about everyone has heard about how I had a one-night stand with the legendary Rob Blackwood.
So what? It’s the truth. I did sleep with him once, but we aren’t together even though we’re attending the same college, so what does that say about his sexual prowess? Doesn’t that suggest he wasn’t good enough since I don’t want to be with him? Maybe that’s why he’s so desperate for us to hook up again. We’ll sleep together, and then he’ll spread it around that we did, and after that, he’ll dump me so that everyone will know that he was the one to reject me and not the other way around.
It all comes down to ego.