I could feel his eyes on me as I sat with Evan, every time I looked in his direction he would just sit there and glare at me...almost like he was pissed off at me.
Maybe he was gay and had a crush on Evan?
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," I whispered to Evan, smiling in reassurance when he asked me if I was ok, boosting his confidence when I pecked him on the lips quickly before getting up from the lounge and hurrying down the hallway to the bathroom.
I got inside quickly, and leaned up against the door, taking a few deep breaths.
Morgan had been around for a couple of weeks now, stopping in at Evans apartment like they were old buds, I'd been dating Evan for five months...and out of those five months he had only just started hanging around Morgan.
Maybe it was just coincidence.
I push off the door and step up to the sink, looking at myself in the mirror, I didn't have anything in my face...so why was he staring.
I did have to admit, while Evan was very attractive, Morgan was absolutely everything I had ever wanted in a man—what a terrible thing for me to even be thinking while I was standing in the bathroom of our friends apartment.
Seriously though, Morgan had dark hair, dark eyes...tanned skin, toned, built muscles...his accent, he had to be from Europe somewhere.
I heard the doorknob jiggle, thinking than maybe it was just Evan checking up on me, I hurried to pull myself together and then turned to open the door. When I went to walk out, I was pushed right back in, and it wasn't the one I was expecting it to be.
I looked up into dark eyes instead of blue, and then I was being pulled into him—our lips locking in an intense kiss.
That intense kiss took me completely by surprise, yet my body was working in overdrive—and I kissed him back.
Morgan proceeded to shut and lock the door behind him, then picked me up to set me on the edge of the sink, even then I didn't reach his full height...damn he's tall.
The kiss turned aggressive and hot as hell within a matter of seconds, while my brain ran a marathon in my head, trying to remind me that my boyfriend was in the other room while I was swapping spit with his friend in the bathroom at this social party—Maybe I'd had too much wine.
The searing kiss began to slow, and I started to come to, my little burst of adrenaline was subsiding and I pieced together what had just happened...before I realized what I was doing my hand came up and a sharp sound of hand meeting face filled the air around us.
Instead of being mad, this player actually smiled.
Maybe I should have punched him.
"What the actual fuck was that, Morgan?"
He then gets serious, holding me in place on the counter by my hips, I had to admit I liked the feel of his hands on me—maybe I should slap myself.
"Evan is in the other room and you have the audacity to come in here and make out with his girlfriend? What the fuck?"
"You don't belong with him, Ziya."
I glare up at him, struggling to get out of his grasp. He doesn't budge.
"I swear on all that is holy if you do not let me out of this bathroom I will scream."
Morgan only smiles and takes the threat as an invitation to step between my parted thighs, his lips are only inches from mine again.
"Do it, I don't think you have the guts..."
He's right...I don't have the guts to scream and bring attention to this promiscuous position I have found myself in.
Then he leans down and kisses me again, my brain feels like it is melting all over, but I find the ability push him away angrily.
"Will you stop that!"
I wiggle my way out of his grasp, sliding down the front of him—feeing everything on my way down...god he's hard—in all the right places.
I glare at him again when I move to the door, not bothering to look back over my shoulder on my way out.
When I am in the hallway I take a few deep breaths to compose myself before re-entering the living room where the party was still going on, completely oblivious to what had just happened in the bathroom moments before.
I find Evan talking to another one of his friends, Nick, at the corner of the apartment, I quickly rush to him apologizing quietly for taking too long.
Nick looks down at me, scrutinizing me under his gaze, making me feel as if he knows I am guilty of something—then he looks over my shoulder, a look which I follow straight to the source of my guilt, and the reason my panties are now soaked through.