MEEKA'S POV::
"F*cking stop!" I snap, my voice ricocheting off the walls.
The woman freezes instantly.
I move before I can think, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up. "Get the hell out!" I spit, and she doesn't hesitate. She scrambles to her feet and rushes out immediately, the sound of her heels can break the tiles if they pound any harder than they are.
My chest rises and falls, breath ragged.
I turn to Slade, fury shaking through me. "You're disgusting."
He doesn't flinch even a little. He just leans back, watching me with that damn smirk tugging at his lips, like he's amused. Like this is a game.
That look burns through me, and I can't stand it.
I snatch my handbag from the chair like it personally offended me, and spin toward the door. My shoes strike the floor hard as I storm out, heat prickling behind my eyes.
God. Why did I come here? What the hell was I thinking? Did I really expect anything else from him?
He asked me to come here for this? For some twisted power play?
And most importantly, why the hell did I do what I just did?
What is wrong with me?
Well, I didn't do it because I was jealous. Why would I even be? I just couldn't stand the stupid shit they were doing, because it was disgusting.
My pulse hammers as I push through the lobby doors, the cool night air hitting my face. I keep walking fast toward the parking lot, my heart still in my throat.
And even as I do, I can't stop glancing back over my shoulder, hoping he's not following me, even though the other stupid half hopes he is.
Jesus.
By the time I reach my car, my hands are shaking so badly I almost drop the keys. I slide into the driver's seat and slam the door shut, the echo filling the silence that's pressing against my skull.
For a few seconds, I just sit there, breathing like I just ran a marathon.
I'm trying to calm the pounding in my chest. Trying not to see what I just saw.
But every time I close my eyes, it's there again.
His face. That smirk. And that woman on her knees.
"God!" I curse under my breath and jam the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life, and I pull out of the parking lot fast enough to make the tires screech.
I drive straight home, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles ache. My head's spinning, my heart's racing, and I can't decide if I'm angry at him or at myself.
Probably both.
By the time I pull into my driveway, I'm trembling. I stare at my front door through the windshield, the headlights illuminating the house that's supposed to feel like safety. But right now, it feels suffocating.
I can't stay here. I need a distraction, need to be around people.... someone.
Before I can stop myself, I shift the gear and turn the wheel, pulling out again. Minutes later, I'm on the road to Nathaniel's.
Maybe I just need to see him. Remind myself of what's right. Of what normal feels like.
I need to get Slade f*cking DeWitt, and that scene, out of my head.
I pull up in front of Nathaniel's house, stepping out of the car and heading straight inside.
Thankfully, neither of his parents are home.
Good.
Because I'm not ready to talk to anyone or answer anyone's unnecessary questions this night.
I go straight to Nathaniel's room and knock softly.
"Come in," his calm voice calls out.
When I step in, he's standing by the dresser, with a towel slung around his shoulders. Droplets of water trail down his chest, catching the light.
Looks like he just had his bath.
"Meeka?" His brows lift, surprise flickering across his face.
I ignore it and step closer, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling now?"
"A lot better." He still looks a little thrown. "You didn't say you were coming over."
"I don't need to book an appointment to see you, do I?" I say lightly, a teasing edge hiding the tightness in my chest.
"That's not what I meant," he replies with a small smile, reaching for his towel again.
Before he can, I take it from his hand. "Let me."
He doesn't protest. He just sits on the edge of the dresser, letting me towel his hair dry.
"I told you I'd check up on you after work, didn't I?" I say softly, fingers brushing through his hair.
"Yeah, you did. But I'm fine now. You shouldn't have stressed yourself coming to check on me again." he says, our eyes meeting through the mirror. "You look really tired," he adds softly. "Rough day at work?"
Rough day. The words echo in my head.
Yeah, if watching your fiancé's brother get sucked off by some woman in a hotel room counts as a rough day, then sure, I had a very rough one.
"You have no idea."
My fingers keep moving through his hair, slower now. The towel's dampness clings to my hand, the scent of his cologne faint beneath the steam.
I should stop thinking about it. About him.
But the harder I try, the clearer it gets.... Slade's voice, his damn devilishly handsome face when that woman was sucking him. And God, I can't believe that I'm.... I'm getting turned on right now, just thinking about it.
Shit!
