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“I mean, yeah, I guess. But how can you feel bad for someone like her?” He rests his hands on the counter, looking at me intently. As if I am a mystery he just can’t seem to figure out.
“Because I’m human. Not a robotically programmed machine like you guys. You’re not so bad, but everyone here is so… robotic.”
Tucker nods, dropping his head. I detect disappointment as his shoulders bunch. I’m not sure if it’s self-inflicted or if it’s secondhand embarrassment from the company he’s forced to keep around.
“You’re right.” He sighs, walking out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
* * *
@RayneMarshall: “Any win against Branson Lexington was a victory,” I type out, smiling as I post it.
A notification immediately goes off and I roll my eyes when I see it. @BransonLexington liked this.
I toss my phone to the edge of the bed, but it bounces off, hitting the floor. Sighing, I pick my book back up and get lost in the pages for a while.
A knock on my door startles me as I put my book down. Looking up, I see Branson leaning on the doorjamb, staring down at his phone.
“Can I help you?” I ask, crossing my arms.
I wonder why I had left my door open. It was strangely out of character for me and not only that, but I didn’t want to be disturbed.When he’s done, he pockets his phone before entering my room, his judgmental gaze sweeping over my bookshelf. He walks closer, eyes narrowing at the spines.
“Boundaries.” I groan, closing the door. “Can you please get out of my space?” I sit on my bed again, shoving my book under a pillow. Away from his disapproving eyes.
He smirks, looking over to me. “Never.”
His smirk, those words, have butterflies slicing open my insides with the violent way they flutter. “Why are you here?” I move, trying to get the feeling out of my body.It is annoying, dangerous, and okay… pleasurable.
“Ah, yes. I want to do some thirst traps.”The way ‘thirst traps’ rolled off his tongue has a moan lodged in my throat I refuse to release.
I nod. “If you’re looking for permission, call your mom. If you have something I can help you with, please, speak or get out.”
“All right. I want to do some thirst trap videos with you.”His black, soulless eyes seep into me, curling around my brain, making it disoriented.
“No.” He is certifiable with no cure if he truly believes I would willing be around him without being under the influence.
He chuckles, stalking over to me. “There was no question in my sentence.” Picking me up, he carries me out of my room kicking and screaming.
* * *
I stare at myself in Branson’s mirror. He was insane. If this wasn’t a silhouette challenge, I would be out. No way would I let anyone see me in this man-pleasing attire. But the fun part is, I’m completely anonymous.
Black lace bra with matching sheer lace panties, bikini style, thank fuck. A stupid garter belt that is strapped to my sheer stockings. And heels. Sharp, stab-you-to-death heels. He didn’t think that one through.
The door swings open and Branson has a smile on his face while talking to Tucker, who is filming for us. Branson's eyes drop to me as he does a sweep. I feel every longing touch of his eyes with a heated sensation. I feel bold, and exposed. But when his eyes become hooded and fire licks his irises, I feel dangerous.
He swallows, bringing his eyes to mine. “You ready?”
I nod, walking past him, stopping at the doorframe. I take in his gothic room. Black everything from walls to bed sheets. So impersonal, no pictures or things on the walls. It is oddly relaxing, in a sterile kind of way.Instead of a red light, he uses a smoky purple, which projects around our bodies as the blackout curtains hide every ounce of light from the outside. I am so nervous, my stomach begins to sour, until Branson stands in front of me, face hidden by shadows. Instead of soaring, my butterflies rage against my stomach walls, causing my toes to curl inside my heels.
“Prop your legs on the doorframe. Good girl,” he rasps, bending his neck closer to me. The music starts. His hot breath skates over my face as his warm thumb tilts my chin up so my back is arched off the doorframe. My breath catches in my throat as I meet his smoldering eyes. His thumb runs down the column of my neck to the dip between my breasts. His lips brush over my bottom lip, a spark between us igniting.Right before they lock, the music stops, but he doesn’t pull back.
I feel a pang of annoyance. Barely a touch and my breasts have swelled. Heat pooling between my legs. My mouth begging for him. How does he do this? Why was it that my body responded to his? His tongue lightly pokes my bottom lip, my breath hitching.
“Tucker, save the draft video and get out,” Branson speaks into my mouth. Every brush sends shivers down my spine.
“Damn. It was just getting to the good part, too,” Tucker mumbles, leaving the room.
The energy explodes around us, Branson grips my hair, pulling down as my neck arches into his mouth. He sucks, swirling his tongue on my pulse beating out of my neck. A tiny whimper of desire spills from my lips.
