SINdicate: A BT Urruela FanFiction Novel: Cerberus MC Book 1.5 (3 page)

“So.
The Office?
” I ask while Netflix loads on the TV.

I catch her watching my face and have to nudge her with my hand to get her attention. “I’m sorry. What?” She asks a little flustered.

I smile big, putting my dimples on full display, well aware of what I’m doing. “Is
The Office
okay?” I ask again.

She shakes her head no, and her gaze leaves mine and refocuses on my lips. My cock jumps in my pants at the thought of her mouth on mine. “I don’t want to watch
The Office
,” she finally mumbles.

I clear my throat to hide the inevitable huskiness in my voice. It doesn’t help one bit. “What do you want to watch?” I ask her mouth because I can’t manage to pull my eyes away from it.

“Homework,” she pants softly.

That answer makes absolutely no sense. “I don’t think that’s on Netflix,” I answer, distracted.

She briefly cuts her eyes back up to mine and shifts her weight so she’s lying back against the pillow. “Let’s work on homework.”

I stare at her as she makes herself comfortable. All kinds of salacious thoughts are running rampant in my head right now. This beautiful woman is practically lying in my bed; there’s no way to keep those kinds of thoughts from happening.

“Homework for tomorrow’s class,” she says her voice turning as husky as mine is.

I shake my head in an attempt to clear the fog and lust that seems to be swirling around in it. We’re working on proper on-screen kissing techniques tomorrow. My eyes widen at her suggestion once my brain finally catches up with her words.

“You want to make out?” I ask stupidly just for clarification.

She bites her lips and dips her head in a quick nod.

“I think that’s a great idea,” I admit and turn my body so it’s facing her more.

I lift my hand up and sweep a strand of hair from the side of her face, but leave my hand in contact with her perfect skin. I groan when she tilts her head slightly, leaning into my touch.

I lean my head closer and whisper, “Want to just go with it or was there a technique you wanted to work on first?”

She licks her lips, and I almost lose all control.

“Camera technique or closed mouth kiss first?” I ask again when she doesn’t immediately respond.

I lick my lips in preparation for immediate action once she decides.

“I think the open-mouth kiss is going to be the one we should practice tonight.” This woman is my dream come true, and I’m certain each and every one of her rejections up until today was just a way to build the suspense for this exact moment in time.

I groan when she runs her pink tongue over her bottom lip, and my restraint snaps. I place my hands on either side of her legs and bring my mouth to hers. I’m met with the softness of her delicate lips and her quick, soughing breaths.

Call me a wimp if you want to, but I found heaven during Netflix and Chill.

Aviana

Where the bravery came to ask BT if he wanted to make out came from, I’ll never know. He’s all for it, of course, and I didn’t expect a different response. I also didn’t expect his mouth to mold perfectly to mine or how much I enjoyed the soft scratch of his beard against my sensitive skin. I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before, and after tonight, I don’t know that I’d ever want to go back again.

I slant my head slightly to allow him to deepen the kiss. His tongue stroked over mine slowly, but when I placed my hands on his chest, the tremble of his muscles betrayed his barely leashed restraint. Frustratingly, he kept both of his hands flat on the bed by my hips, maintaining his balance when l wanted nothing more than his body weight against mine.

I groan when my slight tug on his shirt doesn’t budge him an inch. His smile against my mouth tells me he’s well aware of what I want and amused at the frustration I feel with his refusal. I’m seconds away from verbalizing my complaints when I feel the soft stroke of his thumbs against the thin cotton of my leggings.

He pulls his head back a fraction to look at me. I see lust and some other unnamed emotion swim through his eyes as he tries to read my reaction as well.

“You’re a very good actor,” I admit. My lips are still tingling from the kiss, and my skin hums from the manly roughness where his beard scratched it.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “I wasn’t acting.” He leans back further looking slightly confused. “Were you?”

I shake my head no, responding honestly. His quick grin shutters his doubt and brings him back into the moment.

I reach my hand up and run my fingers over the scruff that I’m quickly growing a fondness to. “I like this,” I admit quietly.

“Then I’ll never shave again,” he says simply.

My movement stutters briefly. I’ve grown accustomed to listening and paying attention to each and every thing a man says to me, wary of any promises or misconstrued declarations of future plans. What he just said is almost enough to make me get out of this bed and refuse to speak with him again. He may not mean anything by it, but his simple words displayed more meaning than his conscious self realizes.

BT pulls me from my waring thoughts when his lips gently press against mine. Even his gentle kiss is cause for concern. Most people, when they get together for nothing more than a fun time, go at each other like maniacs, as if they’ll never get another chance; which is exactly what my intentions are.

Knowing this, I deepen the kiss and give it an edge of violence and aggression. I fist the front of his shirt and pull him forcefully against me. He leans in further than before but still refuses the full contact I’m seeking. His kiss turns feverish, and I take it as a good sign. I want him wild and lustful; it’s the soft and sweet that I can’t handle. Those types of kisses lead to emotions I have no desire of investigating, no matter how much I like his beard.

“Touch me,” I beg against his lips before delving back in again tangling my tongue with his.

He groans into my mouth and brings one hand up to cup my cheek. This man is absolutely frustrating. I’m in his bed after weeks of him relentlessly pursuing me, and he’s practically refusing to give me exactly what I know we both want.

I literally take matters into my own hands by reaching up and palming his cock through his jeans. He’s hard and thick and obviously ready for what I have in mind. He moans, and I feel his hips shift, pressing himself tighter against my hand. My lower body tingles and my clit throbs, demanding attention.
Now this is more like it.

I release my grip on his shirt and use both hands to work the button and zipper open on his jeans. He pulls away from my mouth and looks down at me. His panting breaths are forceful enough to sway the hair at my temples. Releasing my face, he covers my hands with his.

“Slow down,” he says gently.

What? Slow down? Who the hell slows down at a moment like this?

I tilt my head, realizing I’m now the one that’s confused. “You don’t want to…?” I angle my head down and wiggle my fingers under his.

He huffs as if I’ve just said the most insane thing ever, and I grin, certain he’s going to let me continue.

He bursts my bubble when he asks, “What’s the rush?”

How do I tell him this is his only chance? How do I explain to him that I don’t do relationships and a second “date” with him will never happen, especially since it’s obvious he’s a relationship kind of guy?

“I want you,” I tell him and nip at his jaw playfully.

“And I want you, but that’s not what tonight is about, Aviana.”

“But it could be.” I’m practically begging him, and I don’t beg. I’m not the type of girl who’s ever needed to explain why sex is the best course of action to a guy. I’ve never had to, and I wouldn’t be now if I hadn’t had the opportunity to grip what he has concealed behind the denim of his blue jeans. My mouth waters at the idea of doing more with it than gripping it through his jeans.

“Not tonight,” he says, and I can hear a small tinge of regret in his voice.

I nod my head in understanding and turn my eyes from his to focus on the menu screen of Netflix on the TV across the room.

“I should go.” I pull my hands back from the erection that’s all for what I have in mind and place them on my lap.

“We can still make out,” he says hope apparent in his tone.

I slide off the bed. “I have an early class tomorrow,” I explain.

It’s only nine o’clock, but he doesn’t call me out on it. His face falls marginally, disappointment evident in his eyes.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” He stands on the other side of the bed and gestures with his hand for me to go first. From the corner of my eye as I pass him in the hallway, I see him adjust himself in his jeans. For a split second I hope he changes his mind, but I know me leaving is the best thing. I don’t use guys any more than they use me, and I know if I stay and push the issue, the tables would no longer be balanced.

Can I convince him to sleep with me tonight? Of course I can; he’s a man. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but my experience tells me that men have less control over their restraint than they want to believe. I’m certain if I strip out of my clothes, walk to him naked, and reach for his zipper, he’d give me free range. But then tomorrow, he would be in a different place than I will be. He’ll expect things to continue even if it were casual, and I would be done.

Once we reach the door, he grabs my purse from the entryway closet and opens the door.

“Hey,” he says getting my attention before I can flee down the front walkway.

I turn to him, and he gently kisses my lips. “See you tomorrow in class,” he whispers against my lips.

I give him a weak smile, and turn and walk toward my car.

Tomorrow is going to be one awkward situation. I knew I should’ve listened to my gut and refused to come over. I knew he’d take the hint and give up eventually. The sincerity and promise in his eyes earlier in class got me. I have to remind myself repeatedly on the drive back to my crappy apartment that it’s always the charming devils that bring the most pain.

I’m in my own little world as I pull up outside my dimly lit apartment. BT asked me what I wanted to do with my life in regards to the acting classes I’ve been taking. I told a joke about being a showgirl to throw him off of the conversation, and thankfully it worked.

Admitting that acting classes are the only form of school I could afford, and even though I have no desire to be an actress, some education is better than none. I really wanted to go into sports medicine, but being the girl from the wrong side of the tracks from a broken family didn’t actually pay for medical school now did it?

Throwing myself a pity party as I make my way to the stairs to my second-floor apartment wasn’t the smartest. I always pay attention to what I’m doing and my surroundings. BT and the events of tonight are bouncing around my head. I shouldn’t allow myself to be so distracted. Especially not when arms reach out and grab me from behind. Seconds is all it took for my mouth to be taped and a rough canvas bag to be thrown over my head. Fighting was futile against the strength of the man who held me captive, but I gave it my all.

I should’ve stayed and made out with BT is the last thought that runs through my head just before darkness takes over.

BT

I hardly got a wink of sleep last night after Aviana left. I’ve never had a situation go completely off the rails as fast as it did last night. I was trying to be a gentleman. I thought if she knew I didn’t invite her over just for sex she’d be more willing to see me again. What I didn’t expect was for her to get up and leave because I told her as much.

I texted her last night asking her to let me know she made it home and expressed how enjoyable I thought the evening had been. She didn’t respond back and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out where I went wrong.

Hoping today doesn’t turn completely awkward, I make my way to class with several ideas of how to broach the subject once we’re broken off in pairs. I’m running late, which is not the norm for me, but there was horrible traffic on the way to the acting studio, and I didn’t allow for the time.

I had less than three minutes to spare before the start of class. My temperament had seen better days when I walked into class, and a quick sweep of the room informed me that Aviana wasn’t even in class today. I took my normal seat when all I felt like doing was skipping and heading to the gym.

Was last night so bad that she’s skipping today to avoid me?

I scrub my hands over my beard in frustration but have to smile remembering her say how much she liked it.

The instructor breezes into the classroom and gives direction on what we’ll be doing for the next week. Kissing. It’s in the syllabus. We knew it was coming. From the moans and mild clapping around the room, I could tell it is possibly the most liked as well as most hated topic to work on.

My eyes dart around the room once more hoping that Aviana would appear. I know if I ever get an acting job I’ll have to do this sort of thing with other women, but I have no desire to touch my lips to anyone else’s but hers.

“Want to partner up?” I hear from beside me.