A Little Bit

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Eli

He didn’t listen.

Well, that’s not true. He listened for a day. And then, there he was again. In the bushes outside my work, or leaning up against a tree he thinks is far enough away while I illegally smoke a joint outside, or sitting on a bench suspiciously close to my dorm.

People even stop and talk to him. Never wondering what the fuck he’s doing, though. The senator’s son gets to do what he wants apparently. No one bats an eye as long as they get to stay in his graces.

That’s something else I’ve noticed since being under his slightly psychotic, watchful eyes—he’s very popular. Everyone knows Warren. They all want to talk with him. And those that aren’t brave enough to say hello, stare long enough for it to be weird.

He takes it all with a grace that screams “I’ve grown up in the public eye.” Always smiling. Always cordial.

It makes me sick.

He’s so full of shit. Acting all congenial and put together when his stalker mind is obviously a jumbled pile of denial and obsession.

The worst part of all of this—the part that pisses me off the most about his little habit—is that I now find it oddly comforting. Every time I swivel my head around and land on his presence, already staring at me, I just feel… at ease. His watchful eyes are a warm caress, settling all the chaos that lives in me.

And that’s a fucking problem.

I don’t want that. I don’t need that. My chaos needs to stay right where it is. I don’t want to be anything other than messed up and sad right under my swaggerish, sunshine exterior.

So that’s why he needs to go.

I already told him once to go away. That didn’t work.

Now he’s forced me to dial it up a notch.

That’s why I’m here tonight, at another one of those expensive, old brick townhouses that litter this town. Tonight’s party seems a little seedier than the last one I went to. Everyone’s a little closer together. The music beats harder in my body. A hazy film of smoke fills the air around my head. Viv giggles next to me. She places her hand on my knee, shaking her head as she continues to be accosted by a laughing fit.

I don’t even remember what I said, but I promise, shit was not that funny.

Now that she’s stopped, she begins droning on about something. I can’t hear anything she says. Or maybe I’m just actively not listening. I’m not sure and she has no idea. She enthusiastically gesticulates her hands while I take large gulps of my third rum and coke and nod my head every so often, my eyes firmly trained on the door.

After finding Viv on campus, I flirted Warren’s number out of her, sending him a text that I’d be here tonight. He didn’t even answer. But after only a few interactions, I know him.

There’s no way he won’t show up.

And my sailor doesn’t disappoint, walking through the door a few minutes later. Looking ridiculously impressive in more fucking khakis and a fitted white polo that hugs his biceps. I get a flashback of the first time I got to put my hands on him at a party similar to this one. How I thought he’d be lean and light, but he was muscular, rippling in all the right places, a nice contrast to the men I usually choose.

He runs a hand through his effortlessly styled hair, swiveling his head around, searching me out.

When he locks eyes on me, I get a stupid fucking swoop in my stomach. The blue holds onto me even through the haze of smoke and bad decisions here. Those eyes slide next to me, catching on Viv and instantly burning with anger. Whether it’s directed at me or her, I’m not sure.

Before I can talk myself out of it, or she can notice him here, I grab her hand and drag her toward the dark hallway and into a bedroom, making sure to close the door behind me but not lock it.

I probably have less than five seconds before he comes in here. So I have to move quickly if I want to make the most impact right now. A quick pang of guilt runs through me, temporarily surprising me. I usually don’t care about how I affect others. That sounds really bad. But I just don’t. And if I’m being honest, people don’t care about me either. That’s the world. And so far, no one outside of my family has shown me any different.

Throwing her down on the bed so only I can see the door, I get on my knees and shove her pleated skirt up, revealing her lace thong to me, then wrap my arms around her thighs and yank her closer to the edge.

“Do you want this?” I quietly ask her.

She groans and arches her back, trying to get her pussy closer to my face. “Yes, yes,” she pants breathlessly. “But you can’t tell Warren.”

“Oh yeah? Why not?” I ask just to hear what she could possibly say.

She sighs and sits up on her elbows. “Because he’s going to be a senator . I’m very close to getting back with him. I can feel it. And this thing that’s happening”—she drags her finger between herself and me—“will not help me lure him back in.”

Fury glides through my veins. I don’t even know why I care. In fact, if they got together, it would get him off of my back. It would be good for me. But for some reason, her casually talking about how she wants to use him for his future title is not fucking sitting right with me.

“Do you even like him?” I try to ask evenly.

She shrugs and lays back down on the bed. “Eh. He’s okay.”

I bite my tongue even though I really want to tell her to go fuck herself. I don’t care about this terrible situation. I don’t. It’s none of my business. I’m going to set off this little explosion so everyone will leave me alone, then get the hell away from all these people.

But even thinking that, I can’t seem to get the dread sitting in my stomach to go away.

I don’t say anything back to her—just sit there, impatiently waiting for him to walk in.

She cranes her neck up, looking at me again. “Are you going to do anything?”

No, actually I wasn’t going to.

“Uhh, just enjoying the view,” I mutter while dragging a fingertip up the inside of her thigh.

She moans and writhes while I do it again, then lift her by her ass so she can truly be in my face.

Where the fuck is Warren?

When I hear the creak of the door, I flick my eyes up at him. Somehow he glows even brighter in the doorway than before, furious and shocked at the same time. Excitement zips through me because I’m a depraved individual, making my cock grow in my pants, which can only be good because when I stand up, he’ll think it’s for Viv.

I lean down and kiss her thigh, making an unnecessary slurping sound while I pull off of her, and curve my wet lips into a wide grin for him. “Hey, sailor. Want to join?”

Viv whips her head around, squeaking and scrambling off the bed when she sees Warren’s fierce glare. “W-Warren. I-I—This isn’t what it looks like. I just… he was just?—”

He cuts her off. “We aren’t even together, Viv. You don’t owe me anything. Just go so I can talk to Eli.”

She begins righting her skirt while continuing to beg him, “But-but, don’t be upset at me, Warren. I wasn’t?—”

“Go,” he barks in the most commanding voice I’ve heard out of him, sending shivers straight to my already hard dick.

She huffs, reluctantly trudging toward the door and slamming it shut behind her.

He turns to me, his barely contained rage evident in every fiber of his body. His eyes burn into mine, searing me in a way that excites and scares me. The air around us crackles, a current of electricity making every molecule stand on end.

Then he lunges for me, taking his forearm and pressing it against my throat as he pins me to the wall. His face is fixed in a snarl, lips pulled back from his straight white teeth. Our faces are so close together. I can see the freckles peppering his nose and across his cheeks, little dots that I want to memorize and trace with my finger. He notices the proximity after a moment too, sucking in a harsh breath and yanking his face away from mine.

“What are you trying to do?” he sneers at me.

“Hurt you,” I answer automatically.

His head rears back a fraction, brow raising in surprise at my honesty while some of the pressure from his forearm eases off of my neck. “Well… that’s not how you do it. Viv and I aren’t together. I don’t care about her.”

I shake my head. “Yes, you do.”

He presses into my throat again, slightly cutting off some of my air. “No. I don’t.”

“You do,” I croak out. “Why else would you be so mad right now? You’re a nice boy. You care about everyone and everything.”

He cocks his head at me, still fixed with an angry expression. “So I’m a nice boy, just not a good boy.”

I lean into him, making his forearm press even further into my throat. My voice comes out choked from the lack of air. “Exactly.” My eyes take a short perusal of his face. “Unless… maybe… there’s some other reason you’re so mad. But what else would make you mad, sailor?”

He doesn’t answer me. But his snarl slowly disappears while his chest breathes heavily in front of me. He stares straight into my soul. It’s a little unnerving. Like he can see everything I hide under my skin.

My voice is barely a whisper now. “Maybe you’re mad because you want me between your legs instead.”

His pupils dilate while he shakes his head.

My plan to get him to leave me alone completely flies out of my brain when I lean in further and run my tongue up his cheek. He hisses quietly, easing off some of the pressure from his arm.

Taking advantage of that, I wrap my hand around his throat, admiring how my tattooed hand contrasts with his pretty skin, and flip our positions, so he’s now against the wall.

I push my body against him, before giving a tentative thrust of my hips, and even with layers of clothing between us, sparks dance up and down my spine. So I keep doing it, letting go of his neck and reaching around with both hands to grab his ass so I can grind even harder, loving the way his hard cock feels against mine.

“Why the fuck do you keep following me?” I thrust against him again. “You make me fucking do this. I don’t want to do this.” I throw my head back and groan on the last word.

“I don’t know,” he answers breathlessly, his lips smashed together to hold in any noises he wants to make while we buck our hard cocks together.

Removing one hand from his perfect ass, I bring it back up to his throat, squeezing and growling at him, “No. Don’t fucking keep any of your noises from me right now. I fucking deserve to hear them after you followed me around like a fucking pathetic stalker. Give them to me.”

His eyes shoot up to mine and then his mouth falls open, a beautiful loud moan slipping free. Hanging his head down, he watches our pelvises move against each other while quietly whining, “Shit.” It sounds desperate. It feeds something in me, turning my lust into an uncontrollable force.

I feel the tiniest movement from him, an experimental little thrust against mine. It spurs me on. “Yes. Yes. Move with me, sailor. You like this. I know you do. No matter what lies you tell to yourself.”

He mewls like a kitten and then his movements match mine, his hands now cupping my ass while he rolls his hips in an almost painful way, but I fucking love it. Seeing him give in. I want to crush this feeling up and snort it whenever I can.

I lean my forehead against his, letting his expensive scent envelop me, driving me to dry-fuck him harder. When I feel his motions becoming stuttered and uncoordinated, I move my head and hotly whisper into his ear, “Are you going to come in your pants, sailor? I want you to fucking soak your boxers like a good boy.” Then I bow my head to run my tongue up his neck and latch on to the spot right below his ear, sucking hard on his pretty, supple skin.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuck ,” he chants while he comes and wildly grinds into me, out of control and frenzied. Eyes shut tight. Whimpering. Pretty pink mouth open. Wrecked, just like I like him.

Seeing him unhinged sends me over the edge, the pressure exploding from my balls. I suck harder on him while pulses of cum shoot out of me, each one completely stealing my breath and drenching my underwear.

We both begin to slow, shivering in each other’s arms, my tongue now laving slow, teasing circles over his skin.

I pull back, my hands trailing from his ass up to his nape. He’s breathing slowly, his eyes cast down to the ground, no doubt starting his spiral into regret. Bringing my hand around to his chin, I tip his face up the extra inch to mine. His eyes are shining at me. Vulnerable and lost. A strange feeling engulfs my chest. Something entirely unwelcome. To safeguard him. Shield him from all the shitty, terrible people who walk this Earth. It makes me tenderly rub his bottom lip with my thumb.

Another inexplicable sensation runs through me. I want to kiss him. I don’t kiss anyone. Not recently. But right now, the urge is overwhelming. To heal him with my tongue. Suck out all of his poison for him.

He stands completely frozen. Waiting. I lean closer, until our lips are barely a breath apart, almost touching. A ghost of a whisper escapes me, “You’re so broken on the inside, aren’t you?”

That breaks it. Whatever spell of something other than lust that was just ensnaring us. Now we’re back to the senator’s uptight son and whoever-the-fuck I am in this equation.

He abruptly backs away from me, bumping against the wall right behind him before disorientedly looking around the room, probably searching for the exit.

“I-I…” he trails off, his eyes finding mine, looking like they’re asking for help. Then he shuts them tightly and begins pushing past me. “I should go,” he mutters.

I grab onto his bicep. I want him to stay. It’s in my blood, running through my veins and giving me life, but what comes out of my mouth is, “Stop following me.”

He doesn’t say anything back, just nods and walks away, making my calloused fingers slip against his hot skin as he goes.

I sit down on the bed, getting a lovely reminder of how sticky and uncomfortable I am with all my cum squishing around in this new position.

This completely went off the rails. I was supposed to get him to leave me alone, not dry hump him until we both painted our underwear in cum.

He did say he wouldn’t follow me anymore. That’s what I wanted.

And yet, disappointment buzzes underneath my skin.