Pieces Of You & Me

Home > Other > Pieces Of You & Me > Page 8
Pieces Of You & Me Page 8

by Pamela Ann


  Grey wasn’t a guy to be fucked with. It was best that I knew that tonight and started seeing someone else to distract me from his charismatic advances.

  “What will it take for you to stay away from me?” I asked, knowing that one of us needed to do something.

  “I don’t know,” he sighed before lifting his head to the sky as if the stars held the answers. “This thing I feel for you…” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence.

  This thing he felt for me… no. No. Just fucking no. Don’t even go there. We couldn’t. Fuck no. “Tell me you hate me,” I demanded, gazing at his face, begging. Desperate because my body would be volunteering any day now.

  With his face still directed to the Heavens, he whispered to it, “I hate you… so much.”

  Good. This was good. Hate was good. Hate was normal for us and it was something familiar. I could deal with hate. In fact, we needed to keep reminding ourselves that we did.

  “Grey, whatever it is you thought was going to happen, it’ll never be,” I breathed out. “I admit that I’m attracted to you…” Distractedly. “BUT that’s all there is to it. Never think otherwise.”

  When I met his darkened gaze, I knew my words had sunk in. I wasn’t quite sure if it was hurt that I saw there, yet I knew I had hit a nerve somewhere. He didn’t even bother responding, he just rounded the car and went inside it, slamming it loudly. Glancing back, he just sat there, brooding in the dark, not bothering to turn on the engine. I held my breath before I grunted his name and followed his lead. Once he saw that I was heading his way, he started the engine. The second he heard the click of my seatbelt, we were off.

  Silence was our thing, and even though I knew what I had done was the right thing, a part of me was saddened about it. Being attracted to a guy you loved to hate would do that to you. I had made promises to myself, though, and I would never break them; not even for Greyson. The smoldering sinner.

  It didn’t take long until we reached the dark house. Once we were parked and out of the car, I refrained from questioning him when he looked like he was walking me to the front door. It was odd but sweet—not to mention awkward—to be walked into a house that was practically his as well.

  I was about to reach the door handle and push it open when I heard him say my name, making me spin around and look at him clearly. He was so close…

  His scent was the kind that left a woman wanting. It lingered, making you crave… and cave. I wanted him… so much, but I couldn’t… we just fucking couldn’t.

  “Liv?”

  Nervously, I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah?” I waited patiently. Breathlessly.

  He looked like he had something to say, though he seemed to be holding it back. His darkened eyes flickered back and forth, unsure. After a good minute of hesitation, he finally spoke, “Goodnight.”

  I sighed inwardly, disappointed. Regretful. “Goodnight.” I nodded, hoping he’d say what he’d wanted to say, however, when he started walking backwards, I glanced at the car and back at him, putting two and two together. “You’re going out? Again?” Okay, I was making it obvious that I didn’t want him to go anywhere. I couldn’t help it, though. My mouth had gotten ahead of me… I hated when that happened.

  He nodded, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Sexy hair. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  “Where to? Can I come?” Oh, yeah? What the hell happened to distancing yourself from this man? Fuck. The thought of him with some other woman made my heart constrict. He couldn’t be, could he? I mean, he had been practically all over me less than an hour ago.

  He stopped pacing backwards, looking at me with such toe-curling intensity that it robbed me of my breathing. “I hate you, remember?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, wanting to kick myself for reminding us both of that fact. “Be safe?” I managed to say, but really, I wanted to insist on going wherever he was planning to go.

  “Don’t worry about me, Liv. I’ll manage,” he said before turning around and opening his car door. He gave me a quick, steady look before he then slid in and raced out of the driveway.

  I got what I had wanted, and yet, I wanted to curl up and cry. I didn’t know why I was reacting this way, however it was how I felt at the moment. I had never gotten myself into a predicament like this. I didn’t know how to react or respond. How could I go on with the rest of my senior year living like this; with only a few feet between myself and him on a daily basis? How was I supposed to pretend that he didn’t affect me, that he didn’t wring me up like a pretzel; twisted and confused like a crazy girl with a bad, obsessive crush? Something had got to give; I had to do something to forget this insane, electrifying attraction I had to Greyson.

  Taking my phone out, I shot Liam a message. I had to give him some piece of the truth. Something to set both of our alarm bells ringing.

  Me: I feel so sad right now. I miss the times when you and I were together. I feel confused, Liam… I think I’m starting to like someone… and I hate myself for it because there’s only you… I love you.

  If high school love life was this complicated, college life sure didn’t look too bright. Nevertheless, as long as Liam and I always communicated, I hoped that what we had was strong enough to handle college drama.

  Because, right now, it sure looked like I was having trouble finding a way to squash this problem.

  Chapter 15

  Liv

  I woke up with a very vivid, borderline explicit kind of dream. It was so torrid that I had started clenching my thighs, heaving out of my chest as if that dream really had occurred, but that was all it had been, a damn dream of Grey and me hot and heavy.

  Him devouring my body while I was scratching his back, moaning and asking him for more. It had been scorching.

  The dream had only made me more afraid because, subconsciously, I had let him in already. I was scared, and admitting that fact wasn’t easy, but it was the truth. Pretending or denying it wouldn’t change that. I didn’t want anything to happen. No, not really.

  My brain was so consumed with flashbacks running from my dream that it took me a good bit of time to register the loud, screeching noise of a crowd, laughing and having a good time. Partying.

  “Great. How the fuck am I going back to sleep with this noise?” I asked sarcastically, groaning with annoyance that I had woken up to this shit. Then maybe I’d still be dreaming… my thoughts trailed off. Great.

  Pushing the sheets off my warm body, I contemplated what to do. Should I try sleeping again or should I go downstairs and look for something to help me sleep?

  Grey’s parties were usually outside and in his pool house, so it was safe to assume that no one really was in the main house except me.

  After a good five minutes weighing my options, I decided that I wanted to sleep it off with a sleep aid or alcohol. So, with my soft cotton matching cami and shorts, I trotted downstairs to get something to cure my ailment—hallucination.

  The rooms were dark, so once I got to the oak bar, I had to switch on the light for my eyes to take in what available options I had.

  Grey Goose. Exclusive champagne brands. Wines, red and white. Brandy. Tequila… My hand kept leaning in towards the first choice.

  “Grey it is,” I murmured, thinking about the man himself and not the drink as I reached out to get the coated bottled drink. Just when I was about to pull my choice of poison, Greyson came in unexpectedly through the garden double doors with his swimming shorts on and nothing more.

  Fuck.

  The guy from my dream looked so much better in flesh. My thoughts rendered themselves useless as my nipples perked up, tightening at the sight of him slowly striding towards me with purpose.

  I stood unmoving, unblinking, as he moved closer towards me and didn’t halt until he was a foot away breathing steadily.

  “Olivia…” He said my name like it was a caress. He also didn’t seem to be surprised to have found me around the bar, scouting for alcohol. In fact, he looked like he
had been expecting me.

  Which was beyond odd…

  His cheeks were flushed and I could smell alcohol from his breath, but instead of making my stomach recoil, I seemed to want more of it. The thought of tasting his alcohol coated tongue made me bite the bottom of my lip. Yes, I was becoming a walking contradiction. I wanted him, and yet, I wished I didn’t. I hated him, although my body adored him. It was push and pull with my body and my mind. It was exhausting, yet at the same time, it was exciting me.

  These urges were bad… sinful.

  God, help me.

  “You’re having a party,” I said with sarcasm. “At two in the morning.” It was the best I could do. Grey would never have guessed with the tone of my voice what I was imagining all the while he stood there looking like a fucking god.

  A dream.

  A perfect mortal.

  With liquid, fiery-gold eyes.

  If he wasn’t such a playboy… or a careless idiot… maybe… FUCK. I had to stop my thoughts. Toying on dangerous ground was one thing I didn’t do casually.

  “Why don’t you join us?” he asked, dropping his eyes as if they had x-ray vision, slowly examining my barely-there, thin, white cotton nightwear. “I would love for you to join us.” He threw out the invitation the second his eyes landed on mine.

  Shit. Why did he sound like he was inviting me for something more x-rated? “I’m fine,” I said lamely. “I’m going back to bed after taking a shot.” Or a few, whatever it takes to pass out like the dead.

  His eyes flickered to the bottle I had my fingers wrapped around. “Grey?” he snickered, finding it amusing. Of course he found it funny. “I knew you’d like some Grey in you.”

  Damn him, but boy was he right on that score.

  I was about to make some remark about his inane assumptions when he leaned over and reached out for a shot glass in one of the cabinets and told me to scoot over. Never mind the Grey. “I want tequila.”

  “Fickle, but okay. I won’t begrudge you from having your drink.” He hid a smile.

  He looked too cute and sexy at the same time. The urge to lean against him and smell his skin was taking over me, so instead, I picked on my nails, needing something to do.

  “What are you doing?” I knew what he was getting to, but I said it anyway.

  He didn’t glance at me as he took the bottle away from my hand and twisted it open. “Preparing your shots, what else.”

  “I can do it.”

  He shook his head before he opened the cabinet and took the salt bottle. Each move that he made was taken in by me like I was studying a specimen. He was graceful in a manly kind of way. A big part of me wanted to talk about what had happened earlier in the mountain top incident, but I was afraid if I started it, I might not like how it would end.

  I found it bizarre, this situation we were in, that we seemed to be reveling in each other, and yet…

  “Ready?” he interrupted my thoughts.

  “Uhmm.” I licked my lips when I saw him suck his thumb that had a drop of alcohol on it. A gasp of shock immediately escaped from me when I saw him dip his middle finger inside the tequila-filled shot glass and then glide that finger from his chest all the way down until it reached the end of his shorts, past his ridged six-pack. If that wasn’t shocking enough, he then brazenly took the saltshaker and sprinkled the liquid line straight to sacred hell with it.

  Fuck.

  Me.

  Good?

  Shit. I had no comeback for this; I just couldn’t form a word. Not a fucking one!

  Still frozen in shock and tingling all over from his display of alcohol-porn, I groaned when he pulled a bit of his shorts and placed the shot glass there before he magically produced a slice of lime out of nowhere, holding it as he waited for me to say something—complain, or maybe to tell him to fuck off—but I was stuck in a place where I felt like I was being challenged, and at the same time, thrilled at doing something out of the ordinary; well, for me anyway. I was sure this fucker did it all the damn time.

  “Ready to be on fire, Olivia?” he taunted with a serious tone.

  Fire… that was it. He was fire. I was contemplating if I should get burnt or char-roasted. Either way, I was going to feel the burn. I just hoped that, if I went through with this little foreplay, I wouldn’t go up in smoke and get swallowed up with flames.

  “You didn’t have to go through being salted up for my benefit. I like simplicity.” Meaning I didn’t have to lick you, dammit. What the shit?

  He snickered. “Where’s the fun in that? Try to live a little; you might like it.”

  Live a little… I was fucking living. “What are you implying? That I’m boring?” I fumed, wanting to stomp the cocky smirk off his face.

  “Everyone knows your beautiful, but let’s face it, you’re kind of vanilla when it comes to excitement,” he stated in a matter of fact tone. “You don’t want to be that forty-year-old mother that parties at clubs because you didn’t go through the real process of fun when you were younger, do you?”

  I had dated before I met Liam. A lot. Even the men I didn’t do anything with spread rumors about how easy I was, but in fact, they barely got a kiss from me, if at all. Apart from that, Greyson had a point. I needed to live a little. Just a tad.

  With my nostrils flaring, I took the bait. “Bring it on, fucker!”

  “That’s the spirit.” He gave me a boyish grin. “First, you lick me off. Then, milk me good before you suck me dry.”

  Perverted idiot! Did everything have to deal with sex with him? “I don’t need instructions. I know my way around,” I snapped at him. This challenge was going to cost me, though damned if I would back out of it; even if it killed me. “Just shut your mouth.”

  Damn, I thought as I studied his torso with alarm. The salted route was too long, but I was going to get this over with and sleep like a damn baby.

  Fuck it, were the last words I thought as I closed the gap between us. I didn’t dare look at him, so I concentrated on the task first; his torso. All the while I knew that he was watching me.

  Since he was taller than I was, I had to grip the bar end before I tiptoed to reach his chest. I didn’t even wait a beat before I stuck my tongue out and slowly trailed lower. When I went past his chest, I heard him moan which in turn made me pause before continuing again. The tip of my tongue licked that middle line in between his hard-lined ridges and stopped when I reached the end of the band of his shorts where my shot was strategically placed.

  Sucking the saltiness that pooled in my mouth, my teeth bit the brim of the glass, pulling it out without hardship before tipping it over until it emptied.

  The lime was in between his teeth. Even though he was taking his bait a little further in, I wasn’t going to back down. Immediately, I tiptoed some more to bite off the slice of lime, but was surprised when he didn’t let go of it, so I had to suck it off with his teeth holding it for me.

  It felt erotic… intimate, and when I felt our lips brush against each other, I squirmed as I tasted the sour flavor of the juice, sucking it until there was nothing left. When I slowly pulled away from him, he instantly dropped the lime on the floor and smoothly took my lips, arresting me without hesitation, pinning me against the wall behind me with a hard push. The impact itself added to the thrill of being in his arms.

  It happened so fast and so quick that I barely had the time to respond to his hungered, impassioned kiss, let alone think at all.

  His kiss was scorching. Piercing. Exquisite. Elemental.

  And before I knew it, I was responding to his fevered kisses. Both of my hands cupped the back of his head as my fingers gripped his hair and scalp, kissing him just as hard as he was kissing me. His hips pushed against mine before his hands pulled me upwards, still pinning me against the wall as he gradually lifted each of my legs, guiding them to hang on to him, giving him all the power.

  “Olivia—” he grunted out in a harsh, hungered tone.

  His large hand cupped my breast, sq
ueezing it so hard that I yelped in pain and pleasure. He was rough. He was sweet. He was consuming. And my body hadn’t known such raw passion. I felt like we were spinning out of control.

  I didn’t know the extent of how smooth and experienced he was until I felt something nudging in between my thighs. This time, I knew he didn’t have a single scrap of clothing on because this thing was trying to break though my thin cotton shorts with such force that I knew it would break the stitching soon if he kept on going this way. My shorts were soaking wet and the charged, riveting beauty my body was being exposed to at the moment was clouding my judgment.

  He felt magnificent. Proud. Provoked like a charged bull that was ready to break free and go ballistic on his target.

  And I was the waving red flag, unsure if I was ready to be torn to pieces.

  Chapter 16

  Grey

  Olivia…

  Olivia—

  Olivia.

  I was going crazy, livid with this strong, desperate need to have her. Taste her. God, how I wanted to taste her.

  All night I had studied her dark window, hoping she’d wake up from the noise, and when I’d gotten my wish, I had timed myself to enter the main house when I knew she would be downstairs. I was expecting her to be in the kitchen, though, not at the bar.

  At first, her intentions hadn’t gone along with what I’d had in mind the second I saw her trying to choose a drink, but it had been a great opportunity and I always lived on the edge, so I had tested her out to see if I could get her to do what I wanted.

 

‹ Prev