Eat The Rich (bxb)

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Chapter Seventeen


Waking up with a dry mouth is possibly up there with one of the worst feelings, then I felt my head, that pounding that sounded like someone hitting a metal tin. My eyes barely opening due to the amount of crust along my bottom lash, I've never needed sleep so bad.

Groaning as I roll over to the other side of my bed, holding my hand out to grab a cup of water. Taking one sip because that's all I had left, I wanted to die. This was the most horrendous hangover I've ever had and I've been awake for one minute.

Fuck, what time did I get home last night?

Sitting up straight in my bed, rubbing my eyes aggressively, in attempt to officially wake myself up. My eyes float around my room to try and remember how I got home last night, retracing my steps from when I left Abel at the bar.

I grab my phone from the floor, realising that I forgot to put it on charge last night and was currently on 6%. Noticing that I had a text from Abel, simply saying that he had a good time and that we should do it again soon.

Backing out of the conversation, my eyes fixating on Weston's name in my text list at 4:23AM.

"Oh fuck," I breathe out as I click on the conversation faster than I could blink. My hands shake, the text just about readable.

Micah: I'm not going to apologise for what I said, I meant it

My heart beats in my throat and my eyes flick between the one sentence message over a million times. What had I said before that text message?

Pondering for a moment before it all starts to come back to me, Abel asking me about who I liked, then telling me life was too short, calling Weston because I magically grew some courage.

Shooting out of bed, almost tripping over my blanket in the process. Bursting through my bedroom door into the living room where Vee was sitting. "Hey," she smiles at me. "You okay? You look a bit pale."

My feet pace up and down our flat, my hands digging into my hair and pulling at the roots. The acid in my stomach bubbling like there was no tomorrow, fuck, what had I done?

"Vee I've fucked up," I say as I point over to her, my wrist shaking. "I've seriously fucked up."

"What's going on?" She asks as she moves to the end of the sofa, looking at me with pure concern.

"I-I rung Weston last night—" I pause to think about it deeply. "—fuck, Vee I told him I liked him, that I think about him all the time!"

Valentina gasps at my words, my head was about to fall off my shoulders, my stomach convulsing like I needed to throw up. Falling down onto my knees, everything in my body regurgitating.

"Oh my God," Vee says loudly. "Are you dry heaving?"

Bile almost rises in my throat, for a split second I thought I was going to vomit all over the floor. "Yes," I seeth out as I continue to cough pathetically.

"Jesus Micah," Vee rushes to my side and picks me up from the floor. "Get yourself together."

"How can I?!" I exhale, all my limbs turning numb. "I've just told my boss that I fucking like him!"

"What did he say when you called him?" She questions as she chews on her lip in anticipation.

"He told me to go to bed Vee, he didn't even respond." I say before burying my head into my hands and groaning frustratedly.

"Okay maybe just let th—"

She doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence before I scream into my skin, catching us both by surprise. "How am I going to face him at work on Monday?!" I yell out, my eyes bulging out of my head.

"Calm down," Valentina holds her hands up to me.

"Don't tell me to calm down when I've done the single most stupidest thing anyone has ever done!"

"This is just hang-xiety, okay?" She grabs my shoulders and shakes me violently. "When you're not feeling hungover and sorry for yourself, you're going to fucking style it out at work. Pretend like nothing happened."

"Maybe I should call in sick," I say as I stare out the window for a second. "I've got food poisoning or something and I'm in the hospital."

"Micah," Vee tilts her head at me like I'm being ridiculous.

I knew I was, she didn't have to tell me but how else was I suppose to react?

"Breathe," she instructs and I inhale deeply, my nausea rising in my throat. "It will work itself out."

"I'm gonna cry for the rest of the day, you do know that right?"

Valentina shares a look with me but inside I could tell she was trying to not crack a smile at how dramatic I was being. Personally I felt like this was a reasonable reaction, that pure fear of seeing him after knowing what I said and what he said.

"Maybe you should have a nap," she comments. "I doubt you've been awake for very long and maybe a sleep will help you clear your mind. Help you relax."

"Do you think?" I sigh as I scratch my head.


"Fine," I say in defeat as I trudge to my room, keeping my door open and falling onto my bed.

Grabbing my laptop and putting on episodes of Brooklyn 99, I tried to close my eyes but every time I did, I'd open them with sudden shock, embarrassment and humiliation filtering through my body.

My brain couldn't settle, not once being able to think of anything else or even focus on this bloody show.

I could hear Valentina messing around in the kitchen, crashing and banging about. Pulling my dead weight body from my bed and standing in the door way. "Could you be any louder?"

"Woohoo!" She cheers as she turns to me. "You're alive." Her hand throwing up a wooden spoon to the ceiling.

My eyes roll in her direction. "Did you sleep?" She questions as she continues to empty the dishwasher.

I shake my head at her. "I don't think so," my hands raise to rub my eyes.

"Well you look better I have to say," she smiles. "You need to eat, I can coo—"

A knock at the door interrupts Valentina, her mouth stops wide open as she turns to the door. "Ugh," I groan. "Who have you invited over?"

She shoots me a glare. "No one," she says as she takes long strides to the front door.

Valentina's narrowed eyebrows instantly soften when she opens the front door, her shoulders dropping slightly.

"Hi," she breathes a look of surprise covering her face. She blinks a few times before turning to me. "It's for you."

My face turns sour, who on Earth would be here for me?

Dragging my feet across the floor, Valentina standing out of the way for me as I grip onto the door to open it wider.

My lips quiver a little gasp, my eyes settling on Weston as he stands in front of me, one hand holding a lucozade and the other a bag of McDonald's.

Somehow my voice becomes stuck in my throat, my face burning up with embarrassment. Weston's dark eyes smile at me as he rakes them over my face. "Hi," he says. "I thought you might be in need of this."

"H—Hi," I get out, clenching my hands together to stop them from shaking. Valentina leaves my side and walks to her bedroom, giving us some space. "Erm, come in."

Weston nods as he slides through and places the food down onto our kitchen counter. Standing here in a stained white t-shirt and ugly shorts, I felt unwell knowing he was here seeing me like this.

"I'm just gonna go shower quick," I say, my fingers fumbling in front of me. "I'll be five minutes."

He smiles towards me, glancing around at our kitchen giving me the go ahead to bathe myself after my night out. I didn't even want to know what I smelt like.

Quickly grabbing my towel and heading to the bathroom situated between our bedrooms, vigorously scrubbing every inch of my body. Shampooing my hair, massaging it into my scalp. Then brushing my teeth like I haven't brushed them in a month, using mouthwash for extra safety.

Exiting the bathroom, towel clung around my bottom half. My hair dripping with water, down my back and slightly onto the floor.

I almost yelp out when I notice Weston in my bedroom, currently looking out the window at the lovely town of West Kensington. Probably the worst view I'd ever seen, nothing special about the back of a gritty building.

He glances at me out the corner of his eye and I suddenly feel severely insecure. "Sorry," I mumble for my indecency. "I forgot to get clothes."

Walking to the opposite side as him, rummaging through my drawers looking for something reasonable to wear. Holding my towel with the other hand, terrified it would somehow fall down.

Weston moves slowly, his footsteps creaking against the wooden floor. Edging closer, step by step. My eyes glance up, his shadow printed onto the wardrobe in front of me.

Parting my lips to force myself to breathe, grabbing onto a t-shirt and some boxers. My wrists violently trembling away, his shadow somehow coming closer to me.

His fingers reaching over to touch my abdomen, I breathe in harshly and close my eyes. The feeling of his presence behind me, my heart beating loudly. They dance along my skin, slowly, softly.

A quiet sound escapes my lips, unsure if he heard. His other hand now running down the edge of my wrist, slowly tracing patterns against my skin. Moving in closer, resting his lips against my ear. "You think about me all the time, huh?" He asks, his voice low and raspy.

My throat swallows harshly, melting into a puddle on the floor. My head couldn't fathom what was happening right now, how was this happening? The feeling of my chest constricting, ready to burst.

"Hmm?" He hums into my ear, leaving me breathless.

"Yes," I pant out.

His fingers continue to graze my skin, moving lower and lower. "What do you think about?" He questions, his hand moving to trace my palm.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "I-I—" my lips stammering, clenching my eyes in attempt to focus.

Weston smiles against my ear, his hand right at the base of my dick. Not being able to ignore how hard this situation was currently making me, the touching, the deep voice.

"Do you think about me sexually?"

My mind wanted to scream, the feeling of his fingers against my skin made me want to roll my eyes back in pleasure. Digging my nails into my palms to somehow stabilise me.

I hum out, incapable of words. Weston's hand moving lower to grip me over my towel, my stomach clenches at his actions. His other hand now gliding up my torso, his touch leaving me quivering.

He removes my towel, falling to the floor swiftly. Gripping onto my hardened member, a throaty groan escaping my lips as he begins to pump me slowly. "Is this what you imagined?" He says seductively.

My lips part slightly before his other hand clasps my throat at the base, pressure onto my skin. Gasping out as he picks up his pace, moaning out pathetic whimpers.

"Fuck," I curse as he wipes his thumb over my tip, perfectly hitting it with every touch. My hands moving back to touch his thigh, he steps closer to me. His hardened cock pressing into my backside, firmly against my skin.

My eyes open wide in shock, he was enjoying this just as much as I was. His hand tightens around my dick, pumping fast. "West," I gasp out, gripping onto the material on his legs.

Weston grunts into my ear, his hand remaining around my throat. My eyes begin to rim with tears, pleasure building up inside my body. Bringing me to the edge so quickly.

"You're gonna make me come," I pant out, resting my head back onto his shoulder.

His hand slides across me faster, my cum shooting out and hitting my wardrobe with force. Dripping down Weston's hand as I moan aloud, my body jittering at my overpowering orgasm.

My mind turning to mush, my body about to fall down to the floor. Eventually Weston releases my throat and my dick, taking a step back from me. Allowing me to take deep breaths for the first time since he turned up here.

"I'll let you get dressed," Weston says before exiting my bedroom and shutting the door.

My feet stumble backwards to steady myself on my bed, the feeling of blood rushing around my veins. I quickly hold two fingers up to my pulse and press down. "Holy shit," I whisper. "What just happened?" My voice exhales in disbelief.

Staring ahead straight, my body still buzzing from my climax. How was I meant to act now?

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