Rival
Page 29

 Penelope Douglas

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And I didn’t much like him, either. Even if he really did want me to stay, would I want to suffer his company all summer?
“If I wanted pu**y, I could get it, Fallon.” He blew me off. “But what can I say? I kind of like having you around, I guess. And I know you like me, too. As much as you try to hide it, I still turn you on. So stop acting like you don’t like me.”
I ground my teeth together as he pushed the button on the remote on his visor, opening the gate to his community.
Was he serious? Did he not realize that just because two people have fun in the bedroom doesn’t mean anything? People go to bars, know each other for an hour, and go home together! One has nothing to do with the other.
“You know what I really don’t like?” I huffed, climbing out of his GTO as he parked in front of the house. “I hate your car! It sits too low, they’re too many blind spots, and it looks like a Chevy Cavalier which would’ve cost you half the money as this waste of metal!”
I ran into the house, hearing his laugh behind me. “You seemed to love it last night when you were screaming my name!”
• • •
Who was I kidding? I’d have better success trying to jam a tree branch up my ass than convince myself I didn’t want him. But who cares, right? Yeah, I want him. Sure. Who wouldn’t? I could enjoy this. Just one more time. I just have to be the one in control, that’s all.
Jumping in the shower, washing, and jumping back out took me less than two minutes. My hands were shaking a bit, and I was blinking a lot—something I do when I’m trying not to think. I dressed in black lace panties and a pale pink vintage satin bra. Actually, it was only a bra in the sense that it covered my br**sts, but there was no support. It was loose like a slip that had been cut off right under the boob area.
Madoc was going to love it. Not only was it sexy, but it was user-friendly lingerie. He didn’t need to remove it to get his hands where he wanted them.
Letting my hair out of the ponytail, I fluffed it, leaving it a little tangled—Madoc seemed to like it that way—and applied a little mascara and color to my lips. Before heading to the door, I snatched my black-framed glasses off the bedside table. The hall was dark as I jogged the few feet across the hall to Madoc’s room. Slipping inside, I heard the water in his shower running, and smiled as I headed to his bed.
Good. I wanted to be here before he got out. For once, I wanted to surprise him.
I sat on the end, clenching my teeth to keep my smile from escaping. Heat raced through my veins, and my toes curled into the beige carpet as I put both of my palms down on the bed next to my hips.
How should I do this? I bent my legs a number of different ways, tried a slew of different poses, but everything felt unnatural. Legs spread, not spread. Leaning back on my hands, lying down on my side. It was all stupid. Madoc was going to laugh.
Okay, maybe not, but still . . .
Everything tonight was my way, I reminded myself. I didn’t want to let him dominate me.
I decided to leave my feet flat on the ground, legs together, with my hands folded in my lap.
The water shut off, and I tried to force my heartbeat into a calmer pace.
Madoc walked out, black towel around his waist, and immediately locked eyes with me.
His eyes went round, and his mouth snapped shut. He looked intense and a little angry.
I was afraid for a moment, afraid I’d overstepped my bounds by coming in here after him even though he’d invaded my space numerous times, but then I looked down. The bulge under his towel was growing. I fisted my fingers and tried not to feel pride, but it was impossible.
My confidence boosted me up like a pair of six-inch heels.
“You’re mad,” I taunted, leaning back on my hands. “I changed the game.”
He inched closer to me, his steps like a beast of prey. “Not mad, really. Just surprised.”
“But you’ve had other girls in this bed, haven’t you?” I asked. “Why not me?”
I hadn’t really thought about it until the moment I asked the question, but it was true. Madoc had slept with other girls in this bed, in this room. Probably.
But never me.
“Is that what you want?” His voice, sultry and sexy, played with me.
But I faltered.
Did I want that?
“You didn’t love girls in this bed,” I assumed. “You f**ked them.”
They were in, and then they were out, only to be replaced with another one.
I could talk myself up one hill only to find that I was still at the foot of mountain.
I did not want to be used, forgotten, and nameless.
He was right. What the hell am I doing? I looked everywhere but at his eyes, not sure where the answers were or even what the hell my questions were anymore.
Madoc and I could screw tonight. I could walk out of here instead of being kicked out . . . but what would Madoc have really lost?
Nothing. Having sex with him and then taking it away didn’t hurt him at all.
I blinked long and hard, finally seeing how stupid I’d been. So I stood up, tears stinging my eyes, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “No, I guess I don’t want that after all,” I whispered and walked past him out the door.
“Fallon?” I heard him call, confusion lacing his voice
But I was gone.
Running across the darkened hallway, I dove in my own room, slammed my door shut, and locked it. I collapsed against the door, breathing hard, and closing my eyes so the tears wouldn’t come.