Page 28 of Finding Kyler
What a conceited stuck-up bitch! And I despise girls who refer to themselves in third person.What an idiot. A disgusted snort escapes my mouth before I can apply a filter. I clamp a hand over my lips as I flatten my back to the tree. My blood pressure skyrockets.Crap!They can’t find me spying on them! But I’m stuck here, because if I try to flee, they’ll see me. My pulse picks up, and I swallow the panicked lump in my throat.
“What was that?” Addison asks.
“Nothing, babe.” Kyler’s attitude isn’t as cold as before. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I knew you would come around to my way of thinking eventually,” she purrs.
There is silence for a minute, and all I can hear is the panicked beating of my heart. A nasty taste floods my mouth.
“Oh, that feels so good.” She’s breathless as she emits a little whimper.
I feel a sudden, compelling urge to puke. I risk another quick look. My eyes spring wide, and I stumble slightly when Kyler’s shrewd eyes lock instantly on mine. I gulp.He knew someone was watching!
“I know what you need too, baby. Let me take care of you.” He presses his mouth to a spot below her ear and starts trailing a line of kisses up and down her neck. He pulls her body in flush to his, and his hands roam along her spine. Dramatically throwing back her head, she offers him more access, and he takes it. His mouth moves lower, his eyes never once straying from mine. We’re caged in that silent place again. His hand inches down to cup her ass, and he squeezes. She moans again, and my cheeks flare up.
Holy shitballs for dinner, how did I get myself into this mess? I should look away. I want to, because the sight of them together makes me want to hurl. But I can’t tear my eyes away. Not when he has me locked under that enchanting glare of his.
His fingers creep under her dress, and she gasps. “Touch me, Ky. Do it, now.” That’s less of a request and more of an order. Kyler obeys without argument, and her moaning picks up pace.
My clothes are welded to my skin, and my breathing is labored as I continue to watch. It’s wrong on so many different levels, but it’s as if I’m under some kind of perverted spell. His hypnotic eyes have entrapped me, and I can’t find the key to release myself.
His hand moves faster under her dress, while his eyes stay fixated on me. This whole scenario is sick, depraved, but also grossly fascinating.
I’ve become a Peeping Tom.
And. It’s. Turning. Me. On.
She’s pleading with him now.
Oh, dear God. What is wrong with me? What has Kyler turned me into? Bile travels up my throat, and a line of sweat drips down the gap in between my breasts. I ache down below.
Kyler’s eyes haven’t left mine. Not once. And he hasn’t kissed her on the lips either. I find that a bit strange.
“I know you want me. Tell me you want me.”
He eyeballs me as the words leave his mouth.
A layer of ice smothers me, extinguishing the fire.
He isn’t speaking to her.
Looking directly at me, he smirks knowingly.
No, that sentiment most definitely isn’t directed at Addison.
Those words are meant for me.
Chapter Eleven
The fog immediately clears in my head, and I stagger away, stumbling all over the place as if I’ve downed a hundred vodka shots. I need to get out of here, and pronto.
Kicking off my shoes, I take off in a sprint, running back down the path, away from this insanity. My whole body is trembling and crying out in need.
A shrill snap to my left grabs my attention. The dark-haired girl—the housekeeper and gardener’s daughter—is cowering behind a tree. What did Keaton say her name was again? I rack my fuzzy brain until it comes to me. “Lana?” I call out.
Startled eyes meet mine before she turns on her heel and takes off. “Wait!” I run after her, bristling as my feet move off the smooth stone path and hit the rougher terrain of the forest. Ignoring the prickling, stabbing pain underfoot, I give chase. But she’s damn fast, and I lose her almost straightaway. Cursing, I turn back around and start backtracking. It’d be just my luck to get lost out here. Spying the lit path up ahead, I charge toward it with purpose, not looking where I’m going. Tripping over a fallen log, I groan as I face plant the ground. A stinging pain tears at my foot, and I release a string of obscenities. Pushing off the ground, I sit up and inspect my injured foot. There’s a shallow gash across the bridge of my foot, clustered with dirt and debris.
“Super,” I mutter to myself as I spot the rip in one knee. Not only have I made a total ass of myself in front of my dickhead cousin, but now I’ve injured myselfandruined my favorite jeans.Way to go, Faye.
