Chapter 14- On the edge
1183 Words
“Your glass is empty, Atlan darling, let me help,” Lila said, and before Atlan could protest, she tipped the wine bottle into his glass, filling it again until it almost spilled.
She had been laughing too loudly and pressing against him all night. Every brush of her hand, every tilt of her body against his had been deliberate. He was almost at his breaking point, fighting to keep his composure.
“It’s almost ten, Lila,” Atlan said firmly, trying to anchor the evening before it slipped further out of control. “I think we should leave. If you came with your car, I’ll drop you off at home and then grab an Uber back.”
“Nooo,” she whined, snatching his glass and taking another sip. “Let’s go to your place instead.”
She wasn’t drunk. Not fully. Not yet. Her laughter carried too much calculation, her eyes sharp despite the haze of wine. She had been performing the entire evening, not for Atlan, but for the man watching them from above. James Carter. She had succeeded in holding his attention, yet he hadn’t moved, hadn’t stormed down in a jealous rage like she expected. He had simply sat there, reclined, drink in hand, those storm-colored eyes never leaving her.
She thought the show would pull him in. It had worked, he was watching, but James Carter was stubborn. Always was. Always would be. And if he refused to take the bait? Then she’d stall until he cracked. That was the game.
“We can’t go to my apartment, Lila…” Atlan stalled, his mind scrambling for an excuse.
Her lips curled in amusement, waiting.
“It’s infested with rats,” he said finally, forcing a straight face. “I had to call an exterminator to deal with it. I’m not even sure it’s clear yet. You’d… scream the whole night.”
Lila chuckled inwardly, sipping from his glass again. He had been uncomfortable all night, dodging her kisses with the subtlety of a soldier in battle. When her breasts brushed against his arm earlier, he’d shivered, not in desire, but in something close to disgust. Not the usual male reaction. Definitely not. There was something about him that wasn’t adding up.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Atlan?” she asked suddenly, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
The question hit him like a slap. He blinked. “No… no, I don’t.”
“Wife?” she pressed.
His brows lifted, his voice firmer. “No, Lila, I don’t have a wife either.”
She studied him, her lips twitching as if she’d caught the thread of something bigger. But if he thought she’d stop there, he was wrong.
“Don’t you find me beautiful, Atlan?” she asked, her voice dropping to a sultry note, her gaze holding his.
He swallowed hard. “Of course I do. You’re… really beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you.” He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, steady, careful, hoping it would satisfy her.
But her eyes flicked sideways, back to the balcony. James was still there. Reclined, but watching. The others he’d been with had already left, yet he remained. She smirked. Good. Let him see.
“Take me home, Atlan,” she said suddenly, gathering her things into her small purse. If James wouldn’t bite, she’d end the night on her own terms, with Atlan.
Atlan nodded stiffly. With her arm looped through his, he led her out of the restaurant, his pulse pounding in his ears.
What am I even doing? he thought as he drove her home. If James finds out about this, I’m dead. This was supposed to be harmless. Just dinner to get her off my back. And now? Now I’m driving her home like some reckless fool. What’s next?
He glanced at her, slouched in the passenger seat, humming faintly. Half-drunk, half-sane. The worst kind of dangerous. He told himself he’d just drop her off and run. He didn’t even notice the black car tailing them at a distance, headlights dimmed.
“Turn left,” the GPS instructed, and Atlan obeyed, pulling into the driveway of her apartment. He parked, then shook her gently. “We’re here, Lila. I’ll leave now.”
She slumped lower, her body heavy with wine. There was no way she’d make it inside alone.
Atlan groaned, resigned, and got out of the car. Crossing over, he lifted her into his arms, her purse and shoes dangling awkwardly in his other hand.
“Ohhh darlingggg,” she cooed into his neck, her breath hot against his skin. “We’re going to have fuuun.” She pressed her lips against his throat, kissing lazily.
Atlan shivered violently, almost dropping her. God, this is torture.
At the door, he rummaged through her bag until he found the keys. He tried one after another until one finally clicked. Relief shot through him. Just get her inside. Couch. Blanket. Gone.
He guided her into the house, her lips brushing his neck, her laughter buzzing in his ear. His jaw clenched tight, he’d never wanted to hit something more in his life.
“Ta… take me to… my room,” she slurred, pointing weakly toward the stairs.
Atlan heaved, dragging in a deep breath. He carried her upstairs, through the door she indicated.
The room nearly knocked him back. Pink. Everywhere. Frills, lace, stuffed animals. The girliest of girly rooms. He felt like he was suffocating just standing there.
He set her down on the bed, ready to bolt. But she shook her head. “Help… my clothes.”
His gut twisted. This was spiraling out of control. Still, he bent and helped peel her skirt and blouse off, keeping his hands stiff and careful. She was left in her underwear, her body warm and languid under his touch.
He straightened quickly. Time to go. Now. But her hand shot up, grabbing his collar. She yanked him down into a kiss, her mouth hot and insistent. Her fingers clawed at his shirt buttons, desperate.
Atlan broke away, holding her wrists firmly. “Lila, stop.”
“Come to bed,” she whispered, batting her lashes with deliberate seduction. “Let’s have fun. No one has to know.”
His chest heaved, but his voice was steady. “I can’t. Mr. Carter wouldn’t be too happy about this.”
“Oh, f**k James Carter!” she spat suddenly, her voice sharp. “He doesn’t want me anyway. I want you, Atlan.”
And then, with one slow motion, she unclasped her bra. It slid off, her breasts spilling free as she arched toward him, daring him.
“f**k,” Atlan muttered, jerking his head away, his gaze fixed firmly on the wall.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Lila. Just… be safe.” His voice cracked, raw with strain.
Then he half ran from the room, from the house, from the suffocating scent of her perfume. Out into the night, heart hammering like he’d just escaped a trap.
- Writer
