Aspiring Nobody

Chapter 20 So cold

ERIN'S POV

After carrying me upstairs, Styles sets me down by the bed, and I suddenly reach out and touch his cheek, running my hand along his jawline. "You're so... amazing." I whisper. 

"Yeah right?"

I stare into his eyes. "You are."

His eyes narrow in on mine. "Are you for real?"

I nod. "I'm telling you the truth."

He runs his hand down my throat, making my skin tingle. My head drops and my eyes hit the floor, scared and confused by how much I want him right now. He lifts my chin. And the moment my eyes connect with his, my heart execrates and I rush in and kiss him. What am I doing? I should have moved away, not slipped my tongue in his mouth. He immediately responds by wrapping me in his arms and parting my lips with his wet tongue.

As I twirl my fingers in his hair, he kisses me with a fiery passion. My heart races and a trillion explosions erupt within my tummy, causing a pulsing wave of want deep inside me. Although I'm not too familiar with what I'm feeling, I know it's desire, and it's surging through my more than receptive body.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes," I nod, "Touch me." I'm so caught up in the moment — the kiss, the feel of him against me, the foreign taste of his saliva in my mouth, that I don't care about anything else, not even his friends waiting on him down stairs.

I clutch a handful of his shirt, breathless, as his wet tongue pulls away from my mouth and he presses soft kisses to my throat. My legs clench and a heat spread through my lower body as his wet tongue slides down to the crease between my breasts. He pulls the gown away, exposing one breast.

"J-e-s-u-s!" he moans. "You're so beautiful!"

Knowing he wants me, wants my body, ignites a passion inside me. "Kiss me," I breathe. He does, with an urgency now. I cup his head in my hands, my fingers moving through his hair. I am ready to let him take me, and he can no doubt sense my willingness, what with my hands holding him to me and the breathless moans coming from my mouth. He kisses me harder, faster, leaving me wanting so much more than a kiss as his big hand slides inside my gown and cups my breast.

Then I remember Lana. And how I felt sitting down stairs listening to them having sex up here. That's what his friends will hear. Us up here having sex. Then I'll be no different to Lana.

Chaos erupts within me, and I am suddenly torn. Having him so close, knowing he wants me just as much as I want him, is both amazing and tormenting. But this isn't a dreamy kind of love unfolding, this is sex. And I must remind myself of that, even as his hand slips inside my gown and his hand touches me THERE, making me gasp. As much as I want him right now — I can't! I clench my legs shut, forcing his hand out.

He pulls back. "W... what's wrong?"

I look up at him. "Can't—not like this!" He doesn't love me. And I can't give myself to him — my virginity to a man who only wants me for sex. "It would be wrong to... when I can't." I pull the gown closed. "It would be a mistake."

His top lip twitches and he looks confused but also annoyed as he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Are you deliberately messing with me? Tormenting me--I want you one minute and I don't the next. You think this is the sort of game I wanna keep playing? Huh? Because if you do, you're wrong. There are plenty of other women out there who won't fuck around with me as you are!"

"No," I say. "That's not what this was."

He puts his hands up and backs away. "That's exactly what it is. But don't worry, because what happened between us right now won't be happening again; you have my fucking word!"

If he had said this a few days ago I wouldn't have cared. But now, well, now I care.

The next morning, instead of limping from the spare room, I walk. Apart from some tenderness, I am ready to get out of here. I take each step with caution. By the time I get to the bottom, I hear Styles' voice. He's talking to someone. When I don't hear another voice, I conclude he's on the phone, and shamefully, I eavesdrop.

"I'd come over now if I had spare time," Styles says to whoever he is talking to. "You know I would. I couldn't come last night because I was busy... Yes, I had to work... yes, I was working with someone. No, I'm not interested in her... because I'm not... she's just working for me... don't ask me stupid questions like that... yes, I'll be there tonight. Christy, I'll be late if I don't hang up now... yep, tonight. All night, "he huffs, "that's over ambitious. I don't believe any man has that kind of stamina... ok, I'll see you then."

A sharp pain penetrates my inner core. Just hearing him talk to this woman hurts. And she won't be the last. I try to contain the pain of knowing this is out of my hands, but I can't stop the tears as they fall onto my cheeks. How is it possible that when I finally realize he means something to me; he's ready to cut me from his life?

I sit in the kitchen chewing on my thumbnail and kind of watching the morning news show in an extreme state of jealousy. My gut is in knots as I agonize over him and this woman. And I am at a loss to understand how my feelings for him have come on so strong. But they have, and now I need to figure out how to deal with what I am feeling.

My eyes swell when a picture of 3 missing Sydney men pop up on the T.V screen. OMG! They're still missing and now presumed dead since their families haven't heard from any of them; not even their phones or accounts have been touched since Friday night. I gulp down the bile as it rises in my throat.

"I wasn't aware you down here, Erin. How's the foot?"

"Have you seen this," I say pointing to the T.V. "They're missing. Presumed dead. Do they look like the guys from the club to you?"

"How would I know?" He goes to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. "And who cares. What happened is done with. The only thing you need to remember is who it was that saved you." He pushes a white envelope across the bench to me. "Understand?"

I nod, "yeah, I understand."

"I won't need your services anymore, Erin. Everything I owe you is in there—including the bonus."

"What about the boxes," I say. "You said you needed my help. You said—"

"I know what I said." He snaps. "But things have changed!"

His harsh tone surprises me, but not as much as him dismissing me does. I guess this is retribution for not sleeping with him? Not that I should expect anything less from a man so consumed by sex? Even without sex, though, we had shared something I won't forget. Not that he'd understand. I doubt he even cares. And that's fine, because as much as it hurts to know I won't see him again, I can't help but think that he's right about us cutting ties. "Why are you being so cold towards me?" I ask, speaking from the heart, which is stupid when he owes me no explanation?

"Cold." He shrugs. "How so?"

"Because... because you're treating me like... " I can't seem to get the words out.

"An employee."

Those words hit me hard. But from his perspective, they give me just enough insight to see how significant they are, and what they mean to him. I slip off the stool and grab my bag and envelope. "Thank you. And good luck with everything."

"What about your ankle? How will you walk?"

"It's the least of my worries." I tell him. "Besides, I need to stop relying on other people and learn to rely on myself."