Page 16 of Want You

“I thought it was excellent.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What was your favourite part?” she challenged as if she still didn’t believe that he’d seen it.

He stared back, looking forward to seeing that skeptical arched eyebrow lower. “When Alan and Barbie were in the car together. Although her speech was pretty epic too. I felt compelled to apologize to my mom and sister immediately after the credits.”

Octavia smiled back demurely. “If you weren’t a hockey player, what would you want to be?”

“A teacher,” he answered immediately, catching Octavia off guard. “What? You look like you don’t believe me.”

“I just didn’t expect you to say that.” Pride bloomed in his chest as another one of her expectations about him crumbled. “What grade?”

He thought for a minute, assuming she was prepared for him to say twelfth or maybe college. She had such a low opinion of hockey players he probably gave off slept-with-his-students vibes. And fuck, now he was picturing her in a slutty little kilt bent over his desk or pressed against the classroom door while he went to town on her with his mouth. She looked away and he wondered if she could tell what he was thinking. When her eyes found him again, they dipped to his lips, silently admitting her imagination was nowhere appropriate.

“Probably grade five to seven,” he drawled, the grin still there, his eyes boring into her as if he could see through her clothes. “What about you? What would you be if you weren’t a lawyer, Autumn?”

CHAPTER 7

OCTAVIA

It was almost unnerving how he seemed to see right into her head. Like he knew what she was going to say before she had a chance to say it.

“I never wanted to be anything else. My—” she stopped herself before admitting that both parents had been lawyers too. Admitting that would offer up too much information. “My dream was always to be in court taking down the bad guys.”

“Admit it, you like a power suit,” he said. “And you look good in it.”

“But—” they said in unison. He gestured for her to continue. “But, it would look way fucking better on your floor or at the end of your bed. Maybe tossed over your couch. Even tossed around your car?”

Nathan smirked, tilting his head. “I was going to say you should get one in royal blue, you look good in blue.”

Octavia stared back, about to ask how he knew before remembering that she’d been wearing the blue dress that first night. She refused to admit she liked that he remembered.

Their food arrived and they thanked the server before falling back into comfortable silence as they started to eat, taking first bites, glancing at one another as if checking that the food was good before quickly looking away again.

While they ate she thought of all the things she’d like to ask him but refused to. Was he closer to his brother or sister? Did he always want to play hockey? What was his favourite colour? What food did he love most? Where was his favourite place to travel to? Did he vote? Who did he vote for in the last election? God? What’s his go-to movie snack?

She found herself wondering about most of the things she already knew about Blaze.

Octavia insisted on paying for herself because dinner was not a date, but she let him take her hand to lead her to the waiting Uber. And she let him rest his hand possessively on her thigh in the back seat the entire way to his condo. The heat from his palm burning through the thick fabric of her pants, distracting her from all the reasons she should be on her way home and not letting this thing between them continue.

At the end of the night, she collected pieces of her outfit from the entryway, the back of the couch, and the dining room table. She dressed quietly while he slept, on his stomach, arm stretched across the bed where she’d just been.

In the car on the way home she ignored the driver’s terrible music and thought about the way Nathan nipped at her neck. She bit her lip, nearly drawing blood when she remembered how hard he’d driven into her from behind, her forearms resting on the back of the couch, his hands squeezing her tits—enthusiastically fulfilling the promise he’d made earlier via text. She didn’t know his favourite colour, but she knew what his cum tasted like on his own tongue after he licked it off her chest and fed it to her, and somehow that felt far more intimate than knowing any of his favourites.

“Ma’am?” Octavia’s eyes snapped open to see the driver staring back at her, his brow furrowed in concern. She felt her pulse everywhere, especially where Nathan touched her, where he had been inside her.

“Sorry,” she stammered, grabbing her bag off the seat and pushing the door open. “Thanks, have a good night.” She slammed the door and ran up the front stairs of her townhouse, fumbling with the keys.

Her phone buzzed after she let herself into her home, and when she looked down she saw his name glowing back at her.

Nathan

Where’d you go?

It’s just sex, Nathan.