Rosie's Thorns 🥀|18+|🥀

15 | Tensions

(Sinners- Ari Abdul ft. Thomas LaRosa)

《¤Dominic¤》

Why was I so close?

The scent of lilacs and something else I couldn't quite pinpoint filled the space between us. Her skin was soft beneath my hand as I traced the angry little lines she'd inflicted upon herself. I could faintly recall the video footage I'd seen what might have been only just a week ago. The bandages on her thighs. My fingers slid up further, just beneath the bottom of the torn pattern of her shorts, until they graze scabs that were already beginning to heal.

Her wide emerald eyes stare up at me with so many questions oozing from their depths. I wanted to blame my actions on something other than my own emotions. I couldn't blame it on the blunt I'd smoked down the block so she wouldn't see or smell me. I was relaxed, not high out if my wits.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" I've avoided her most days, but today I knew we both needed something to take the edge off.

She had looked so vulnerable as she stood before us in the rain, giving a speech I had tried to avoid forcing upon her. I wasn't going to tell her. I had hoped she could sleep in and I'd take care of it for her, but of course Hana, that little minx that she was, had slipped Rosie her number and told her. Next thing I knew I was getting the cold shoulder.

Her eyes fall to the hand on her thigh, gliding across the breath distance of our bodies, then flicker up towards me again. She was nervous. It practically came off if her in waves. There was worry in the way her brows furrowed and in the way her breath staggered. There was caution and a wall slowly building up within her gaze.

"I don't know." She admitted.

I hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol today. There was nothing I could blame it on other than my own need or curiosity. Today I was being weak. I hadn't expected to come back to her elbow deep in the microwave, soap dripping from her arms as she swayed her hips deliciously. Did she have a sex playlist? Even now a song, slow and sensual hums around us as she waits for me to say something.

Had she answered? Shit, I wasn't listening.

I trace my tongue over my lips and had to withhold a smirk as her eyes flickered towards the action. Instead of asking her what she'd said, I use my other hand to grip the counter beside her and caged her in.

"Do you want me to move?" I purred as I leaned down until her face was just a breath away.

Her head tilted up, inviting and needy as her eyes clouded with her blanton desire. She still found me attractive. Even after all these years.

"I don't know." She breathed out harshly, honestly.

The urge to wrap my hand around the back of her neck, fisting the hair their to bring her closer, brought my hand sliding closer until my thumb grazed the belt loop of her jean shorts. Jean shorts that were too short for her own good. If she were to bend over and stand again, I knew her shorts would ride up enough to see the underside of her ass. The thought coiled something deep within my stomach.

"Mierda." I grimace as my thumb hooks through the belt loop of her shorts. "No debería estar haciendo esto." (Spanish- Shit, I shouldn't be doing this.)

With a sharp tug, I pull her towards me, earning a delicious gasp as her hands fall on my chest to brace herself. I stiffen beneath her touch, but I relish her delicate hands as they ball into tiny fists in defiance.

"You hate me." She protested feebly, her eyes once more dropping to my mouth.

It wasn't a question, but a statement. I answer anyway. "Yes."