this took a whilem but i'm so not done with this one.
He didn’t ask if I was awake. He just removed his hoodie and crawled under the covers. I shivered as he cold hand collided with my stomach. Then again as his lips met my neck. He lightly scratched my bare thighs as I pulled his hair in reaction.
“God, you kill me.” I breathed.
He abruptly stopped his lips and hands as he brought his eyes to mine. I whined in disapproval.
“No. I make you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt.” He grinned. I exhaled air that I didn’t even know I had been withholding. I pushed him off of me and up. He rested on his knees and looked at me inquisitively. I rose to meet him and stopped merely inches away from his face. I lightly chewed on my bottom lip knowing that drove him crazy. My hands fumbled with his belt as I smirked. After less than a few seconds of that, his eyes narrowed as he grabbed the back of my head and pushed me into his lips.
Some time later, we were both laying on my bed breathing deeply and complaining about the heat. With us, it was best to keep silent after a time like that. After all, we fail to get along in any other scenario except the previous.
Once I had caught my breath, I reached around the floor to find his jeans and handed them to him. He acknowledged them, but didn’t reach for them.
“The sun will be up soon.” I reminded him. I wasn’t used to day time Pete.
“I didn’t know you knew Patrick.” He avoided the point I was trying to make him understand. He didn’t sound jealous, albeit slightly disgusted at the thought of Patrick. No, he was just stating the fact that he saw us together earlier tonight. It seemed he was just buying time to prolong his time here.
“You fought with her, didn’t you?” We rarely spoke of her. It was understood that I was aware she existed and that he was aware that he was using me to physically cheat on her, but we didn’t dare speak of her.
He eyes refused to meet mine and I knew that they had been fighting. He probably went home drunk and angry at seeing part of his past dancing drunkenly in what he claimed as his bar tonight and that was probably enough to drive her mad. Then he came over here because he knew I wouldn’t say anything to him about it. He knew I would barely say anything at all, but he knew I could make him want to say things most people had only heard on Television after eleven p.m.
He stared at me, almost angrily, and I began to feel uncomfortable. He moved his stare to the white sheet covering my naked body.
“I don’t think I like sheet very much.” His hand was now resting over the sheet on my leg.
“Why don’t you do something about it?” Anticipation took over and I forgot what we had been discussing completely.
It was then that Pete jerked his jeans from my hand and threw them viciously across my small room. The fact that he had obviously fought with his wife and that I apparently knew Patrick was disregarded. Right now all that mattered was a desire to make the other feel as good as possible. Or maybe that wasn’t the point at all. Maybe things such as these didn’t have points. It’s all irrelevant at this moment. I can’t think properly with Pete’s mouth where it happens to be.