C8 Chapter 8

It's been three days since I've been avoiding her.

She doesn't know what she's getting into.

And the problem is that I don't want to know either.

But one of us has to put a stop to it before it escalates into a bigger mess.

I can't be sleeping with my step-sister for God's sake!

A frustrated sigh escapes my lips as I park my car in the garage.

It's already past midnight and Mom and Michael have gone to bed.

I try not to make any sound as I climb the stairs to my floor.

I pass by Avery’s door and stop there for a moment.

Wondering if I should go in. I shouldn't but that's the opposite of what my mind is saying.

I raise my fist to knock but think better of it and move past it to my bedroom.

The night after we slept together, I always woke up in the middle of the night sporting a hard-on.

I sigh, take off my t-shirt, and grab a towel before heading to the bathroom.

My breath gets stuck in my throat as soon as I open the door.

Avery is standing under the shower, naked and wet.

It almost feels like déjà vu, with only the roles reversed.

But unlike me, she isn't just showering.

I see her left hand in between her legs while her right one is on the glass wall.

Her head falls back and the room is filled with gasps and moans that escape her lips.

She turns to the side, her posture now slightly more clear.

With her eyes still closed, she leans back on the shower wall.

I see her fingers disappear between her folds while her other hand massages her boob.

She is saying something but I'm just too lost and occupied to make out her words.

I see her pace increase and feel my body heating up with every thrust she makes in her pussy.

She bites her lip and her palm squeezes her boob harder while her fingers start working on her core faster, and I know she is reaching there.

I make out some curse leaving her mouth in the background but don't care much because my eyes can't stray away from her face.

Her face is twisted in ecstasy and euphoria.

“Fuck, Liam.”

My eyes, which had traveled down south snap back to her face in an instant.

I'm yet to register the fact that she was getting off at my thought when I see her face which is pulled into that same expression I witnessed countless times that night.

Her cheeks flushed in a rosy glow, her brows furrowed with her head raised up and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

She comes with a loud gasp, clasping her hand over her mouth to prevent making louder sound.

I see her juices leaking out of her pussy while her fingers maintain a steady pace to ride out her orgasm.

“Fuck,” I unintentionally let out and see her eyes twitch.

I'm quick to get back to my senses and close the door softly and escape the place before she sees me

Once inside my bedroom, I leaned my back on the door, panting.

I look down and see my cock creating a tent in my joggers.

After locking the door and getting rid of my joggers and briefs, I climb into bed.

“Oh, Avery. The things you do to me.”

______^^_______

The next morning is just as hard as the last three days.

I avoid her all day, not that she comes to me anyway but I still try to avoid places where I can possibly find her.

Evening rolls in and I decide to go to a club.

With her thoughts constantly filling my mind, alcohol seems to be the only solution.

And a random hook-up at a random club. Maybe.

I step inside and am welcomed with a view of drunk teenagers and adults swarming the whole place.

Dancing, drinking, making out, etc., just like in every typical club you see.

I make my way to the bar and take the stool before ordering a drink.

The bartender slides my drink towards me and I've just taken a sip when the unoccupied seat beside mine gets pulled and a woman in a red bodycon plops herself on it.

She looks like someone of my age, probably a little older.

And by her British accent, she is most probably a tourist.

“Hi,” She says.

“HI,” I reply back before going back to my drink.

“You seem new here,” she states and I raise my eyebrow at her.

“I'm sorry, it's just, I'm a frequent customer and never saw you around,” She explains and takes a sip of her Martini.

“How are you so sure, maybe you missed me?” I ask.

And she pouts her lips and stares at my face with her chin held in her palm before shaking her head, “Nah. With that face you have, I doubt I would have missed you.”

I shake my head with a smile and extend my hand for a handshake, “Liam.”

She passes me a smile of her own before meeting my hand with hers, “Emily.”

“Classic,” I say and she chuckles.

For the next hour or so, we converse over drinks.

And one too many times, I find my hand on her thighs and hers on my arm.

We both aren't subtle.

The bartender brings her nth drink and I lean forward to get it for her

I'm moving back when I feel her hand on my collar as she tugs at it.

My face is mere inches away from hers. Her eyes drift back and forth between my lips and eyes while mine stay fixated on her mouth.

With nothing else to say, I lean down and capture her lips in mine.

The kiss is impatient and needy.

My hand finds its way to her neck and I pull her closer while her hand is still clutching at my shirt.

My tongue sweeps over the seam of her lips and she opens her mouth without any delay.

Our tongues meet and suck on one another as they both try to dominate until she finally gives in.

A few moments later, we pull away when the need to breathe becomes a little important.

Our mouths stay close, hovering over each other as we both pant.

“Shall we take this to my place?” She murmurs.

“Your way.”