Page 27 of Finding Grey
FOURTEEN
______
DANTE
Unresolved. Sexual. Tension. Our every interaction could now be boiled down to those three words. I couldn’t decide which of them deserved the most emphasis. The middle one probably, because right now my whole world revolved around the sex I couldn’t have… with Sean.
Four days had passed since our almost kiss, and I could still taste all the possibilities his open mouth had to offer.
He’d stopped joining me for dinner. Our casual conversations had become a thing of the past. I was positive he’d gone out Wednesday night, probably to visit his boyfriend. The idea of Sean fucking anyone other than me pissed me the hell off, and by the time Saturday evening rolled around I was beyond hiding it.
“Sean!” I stood inside the walk-in wardrobe, yanking the clothes hangers back and forth until I heard a noise from my bedroom door.
“You yelled?”
I poked my head out to see him leaning against the doorframe. “Where is my Nick Cave t-shirt?” I demanded as I went back to rifling through the clothes.
“No idea,” was the reply. “I haven’t seen it.”
“I put it in the wash days ago.”
He appeared at the entrance to the wardrobe, his arms crossed. “No, you didn’t.”
Gritting my teeth, I fought the urge to growl. “Yes, I did.”
“I emptied the hamper this morning.” He stalked into the confined space and my heart lurched. But instead of pushing me back against the wall of clothes as my imagination insisted he should, he passed me by in favour of the clothes hamper that sat against the far wall. “As you can see,” he said, lifting the lid, “it’s not in here.”
His bored demeanour amplified my irritation. I couldn’t be in the same room with him without going nuts. How could he be so calm? “Well, it didn’t wander away by itself,” I insisted, taking a step closer.
One brown eyebrow lifted. “Are you sure? Considering how often you wear it between washes, that’s entirely possible.”
My eyes narrowed, and I put my hands on my hips. “Are you always this rude to your guests?”
“No,” he said with a polite smile, “but you’re special.” He stood there, staring me down with those grey fucking eyes that made my dick ache. What was it about anger and lust that somehow fit together so well? Everything about the way Sean glared at me made me want to shove him across the room until he fell onto the bed. But then, my desire to have him there was the very problem that precipitated this argument. I’d barely slept in days because of the dreams I’d been having about him. More than once I’d woken to find myself humping the mattress, his name on my tongue and pre-come smeared across the sheets. I’d thought maybe if I wrapped myself back up in Grey, I could get Sean out of my head. Granted, the distant memory of a teenage crush, even one who’d driven me half-insane, could never compete with the fully-grown man who stood right the fuck in front of me, but I’d become desperate enough to try anything. “I need that shirt.”
“By all means, allow me to find it for you.” Sarcasm dripped from each word as he left the wardrobe and inspected the various pieces of clothing scattered across the floor. Within moments he’d located the shirt and held it up by two fingers. He kept his arm straight out in front of him, as if too much contact would lead to contamination. That was downright insulting. I had fans who would kill to be contaminated by me. What the hell was his problem?
“I believe this is the garment you’re looking for,” he drawled with a judgemental glance at the faded cotton. “Such as it is.”
My cheeks warmed as I came forward to snatch the shirt from his loose grip. “Thank you.” The words cut like broken glass, but I managed to spit them out anyway.
“You’re welcome,” was the snappish reply. We stood there glowering at each other for a while longer, before Sean rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “I’m heading off for the night. Do you need anything else before I go?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I do need something. I need you to stop being pissed at me.”
His brows dived into a frown and his mouth fell open. “I am not pissed at you.”
“You’ve been avoiding me for days, ever since we nearly…” I managed to stop before finishing, but we both knew how the sentence ended.We nearly kissed.I’d come so close, dared too much, and it had been all kinds of wrong. No matter how much I wanted it.
“Wedidn’t nearly do anything.” He poked me in the chest with a single finger. “You were playing me, and I didn’t like it.”
“I was not playing you, I was demonstrating a point,” I argued, taking a step closer until his palm flattened against my chest to hold me back. “And you fucking loved it.”
I’d pushed too far. I knew it the moment the words left my mouth. Sean backed up, sucking air in through his nose as his lips pressed together. He didn’t deny it, but he was furious that I would throw his reaction out there between us.
“You know what?” he said, mouth twisting in derision. “You’re right. I’m gay and you’re gorgeous. Of course, I loved it. But then, that was the point, wasn’t it?” He had me backing up now, as he strode towards me. “You go around treating people like they matter and pretending to be attracted to them. But as soon as you get what you want, none of it counts for shit. You forget they ever existed, and you move on.”
“Is that what’s got you all bent out of shape?” I asked, my voice rising. “You think I was pretending?”