Stain (Stain #1)(26)

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here? Or are you just going to stand there and stare at my dick?” I ask at the click of the door closing. Heading over to the tripod, I turn off my camera and walk back to stand where I was, only a few feet away from her.

She huffs, and her plump bottom lip ends up curling between her porcelain-white teeth. “I’m not staring.” Her reply has bite and for some reason I find myself smirking at that. I laugh when her eyes flick down for a second and then back up again. “I’m not,” she states firmly with a glare.

I snort. “Right, keep telling yourself that.” Heading to the fridge, I open it to grab a bottle of beer. Fucking is thirsty work. Setting the ridged edge of the cap firmly against the edge of the counter top, I give one swift, forceful tap to pop it open. The cap ends up on the floor somewhere, while I bring the cold bottle to my mouth and down it. Some ends up dribbling down my chin and neck, and trickles a path down my chest.

“Forget touching, Aylee, I’ll let you lick it off.”

Her hands ball into fists at her sides as she ducks her head to hide the redness of her face. “Can you please put some pants on?”

“Why? I’m perfectly comfortable.” I push the issue only because it gives me a little high seeing her squirm.

She looks at me through a veil of thick lashes, and something in her mismatched eyes puts me on edge. “Please.”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Jesus, fine.” Annoyed, I search for my jeans and hop into them, purposely leaving the fly and button undone. She’ll f*cking take what she gets. “If you’re going to cry, get the f*ck out now.”

“I’m not crying.”

“Whatever. Why are you here?”

She fidgets for a moment before shrugging off the black straps of her backpack. Falling to a knee, she tugs the zipper open and rummages through it until she finds what she’s looking for. Leaving her backpack to slouch on the floor, she takes three steps toward me, not quite closing the distance between us but close enough that I can see the splatter of freckles across the bridge of her upturned nose. She’s a little skittish, a little hesitant when she wordlessly extends the thick stack of stapled papers in my direction.

I make no movement to take it. “What the f*ck is it?” I snap, tired of her acting like I’m going to jump on her and rub my dick all over her face or some shit. Never mind that she’s the one intruding on my space here.

“It’s…astronomy…” she murmurs. When she clears her throat and swallows, my mind automatically goes to her drinking my load. Wrong, I know. But considering my upbringing, this is pretty mild thinking for me. Besides, she has nice lips. “Mr. Solomon wanted,” she begins, then shakes her blond head and sighs. “I wanted to bring you the homework from astronomy class. It’s actually a group project. We’re supposed to be working in pairs on it. I skimmed through it earlier and it’s essentially us trying to figure out how much light pollution there is in different locations in the sky and take pictures...” Her explanation sputters to a stop. Letting her hand drop to her side when I still don’t take the stapled stack of papers from her, she glances at me. “I feel really stupid right now.” A small, tight smile follows her softly-worded confession. It tugs at the corners of her too-pink mouth. “So, I’m going to go…I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Something niggles at my brain. It’s a nasty little beast with gnashing teeth and sharp claws. Claws that hook into brain matter, tugging at something long forgotten, buried beneath the filth. It feels suspiciously like a conscious.

“Huh?” I muse to myself. Didn’t know I could still feel guilty about anything anymore. But I look at her, Aylee-f*cking-stalker-Bennett, and I feel like I just kicked a puppy in the face.

Finding the shirt I was wearing earlier, I bring it to my nose and take a sniff. Clean enough. Slipping it on, I ask, “You hungry?” I’m starving. While I look for my keys and pocket my wallet, I note the lost and confused look on her face. Can’t blame her considering my question came out of the blue. “Look, you can talk circles around me about this shit but I’m not going to be any help to you on an empty stomach. So you either come with me to grab a bite to eat or you get the f*ck out and stay the hell away from me.”

“I’ll come.” She says it without the slightest hint of irony. Jesus.

I grin crookedly, “If only,” I say, under my breath, waiting for her to grab her bag before I close and lock the door behind me. Dro’s working at the storage unit he converted into a garage, tonight. Not sure when he’ll be home. He’ll probably end up crashing at Wynn’s place anyway since it’s closer to his work place.

She takes a short lead while I purposely linger a short step behind her. The view isn’t bad. She’s a little on the thin side; the dark gray skinny jeans wrapped around the lower part of her body only shows that she needs to eat more. She’s got a cute little curve to her ass, though. There’s a white camisole shirt beneath the dark red-and-black flannel she left unbuttoned. I’m not sure if she’s aware, but I could make out the outline of her white bra through the shirt earlier. Small breasts that fit her svelte frame. If I had to guess at her bra size, I’d put her somewhere in the lower B-cup range. The black Sperrys on her feet silence her footfalls as we make our way down the concrete staircase.