Chapter 20 - Lucas

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I can't believe I'm fucking dress shopping.

Scratch that. I can't believe I'm fucking dress shopping with Olivia. It's beyond me how I got roped into this fuck show. If it wasn't for Mom blowing up my phone and asking that I do this for her, I wouldn't be here. Not by a long shot. Especially after the way she acted in class.

I can't believe I went soft for her. Again. All it took was one look at her face when those drunk fuckers said shit that nearly brought her to tears. The way her face had fallen, the way she locked her jaw and tried to put on a brave face, fuck if that didn't do something to me on the inside. I was already waiting by her car wanting to ask what the fuck she meant telling me she was done when I overheard the conversation. Not only did I beat those miserable fucks, but I went on to spend all weekend working on that sky map just for her. I wanted to do something to make her happy for fuck's sake and make her forget those assholes ever said a word to her. And for what? She thought I did it just because we kissed, shut down on me, and acted like a class A brat out of fucking nowhere. It was too fucking typical. The second I go soft for her, she doesn't hesitate to humiliate me for it.

But I still fucking want her.

No matter how much she pushes me away, no matter how much she fights me and acts like I'm beneath her, I still want her. I still think about her. I hate that I can't hate her. I can act like a royal ass all I want, and I sure fucking do, but it doesn't change how I feel and it's getting real fucking hard to hide that. That's why the last thing I need to be is around her, especially when I can't stop thinking about our kiss and feeling so goddamn greedy for more.

That kiss was a tease. Pathetic. It didn't even cover a fraction of what I wanted to do to her. I could have fucked her right there against the car door. I was burning for her as she kissed me with so much desperation I briefly questioned if I was imagining everything. But it was real. The way she gripped my face, wrapped her legs around me, toyed with my tongue and gave me her sweet breathless moans, it was all too fucking real. I was losing my mind. Knowing Olivia actually wanted me was an addicting feeling and I lost myself in her faster than I realized. It ended so abruptly that I couldn't even make sense of the fact that she pushed me away. And then she did it all over again after class and I've been wearing the sting of her dismissal all week.

And I'm fucking dress shopping with her.

"Hurry the fuck up," I growl, my head falling back against the wall. I glare at the changing room door in front of me like she can see it.

"I can manage the simple task of shopping myself so fucking leave if you want to," She throws back and my eyes fall shut in frustration. Like I haven't thought about doing that already but Mom said my being here would make up thanksgiving dinner for her. The refusal to cheat her wins out against my urge to ditch so I'm fucking stuck here.

"Just pick a dress already so we can leave. Fuck," I walk up to the door to kick it and it takes less than a second for it to swing open, revealing a fuming Olivia. Immediately my anger is replaced with something else entirely as my eyes scan her body. What the fuck is she wearing? The thin black straps of her dress barely hold up what little cloth covers the rest of her, the hem so far up she'd be stopped for sexual indecency on the street. She may as well be naked.

"You may as well be naked," I deadpan. I cut my eyes to her, bored and impassive. Anything to hide the fact that my dick is doubling in size as we speak because Jesus fuck, when did she get so beautiful? Her body is a fucking masterpiece, from her full tits to her narrow waist and legs that are too long for someone who's as short as she is. What the hell is she doing to me? My jaw locks.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," She smarts. My nostrils flare. Every time she opens her mouth she reminds me why it's easy to fight my attraction toward her. She gets on my every damn nerve and her childish retorts are like a cock deflator. "I also didn't ask for you to be here, so just go."

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