Crash and Burn (1)

you regret it yet?

♚ ♛

A WALK OF SHAME. That's what it felt like.

As I reached for the doorknob, warmth flooded through my cheeks. That just happened.

Soren and I.

Fuck.

Soren stepped up behind me, his hips coming flush with my body. Desperate to put space between us, I moved forward hastily. A hand gripped my hip, and I pulled at the door, backing up into him to open it. The push and pull sent a fresh wave of heat through me. "Lacey..."

Something about his low warning propelled me forward. I rocketed out of the bathroom and into the dim glow of the diner. Cool air lapped at my warm cheeks, but when Soren sidled up behind me, it all diminished. His fingers trailed over my collarbone, pushing my hair over my shoulder.

"You good to go?" he asked, his breathless voice in my ear.

Breathe.

I nodded.

Soren chuckled loosely before brushing past me, sauntering through the diner in silence. Hot and heavy, the humid air outside didn't help. It was hard to breathe. Wet sidewalks and wet cars held my attention, but each sideways glance Soren threw at me only counteracted the distraction.

I had just let Soren Calloway fuck me.

Breathe.

The damp gauze grazed my hand delicately; nothing could stop the ripples of irresistible heat. I gasped quietly, my lips parting in surprise as I snapped my gaze up to find him smirking at me.

"Here," I hissed, stopping Soren as a bus came to an abrupt stop at the corner of the block. His fingers lingered on mine, even after I tried to pull away.

"Tell me this is really what you fucking want, Lace."

A shiver ran up my spine, but I stood still as the doors to the bus opened.

Breathe.

Just as his fingers danced up my wrist, I slipped through the open back door and up the stairs. That faint, fluttering chuckle followed close behind. Too close.

Of course, when I sat down in the back and scooted to the window, Soren plopped down right beside me. "No security cameras on the buses, princess," he said with a mischievous grin. "What's wrong, Lace? You don't want me close to you?"

Lace.

Breathe.

"I..." I couldn't find words. I wasn't sure how to interact with him after that. I'd lost it, and the way he was taunting me with it made me furious. At least one thing had stayed the same—I still wanted to punch him in the face.

Breathe.

"I don't care," I said softly, looking away from him.

I pushed my hood up and let my hair curtain the side of my face. All it did was hide my burning cheeks from him. Shame filled me, and with each inch he stole closer, my heart skipped. Soren didn't seem to care. Sending me little smirks and brushing his hand against any exposed skin he could find, that motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing to me.

We needed to get far away from Brooklyn; I needed to put space between Soren and me.

When he brushed my hair from my face, my breathing hitched. Something about his fingers drew me in; there was an irresistible urge to kiss his fingertips, to taste that misleading tenderness in his actions. Soren wasn't tender, Soren was rough.