Find Me Alastar

I screw up my face. “No. What do you mean no?”

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

My mouth drops open. “Oh, yes, you are.”

He shakes his head. “No, we’re going back to my place.”

I’m outraged. He can’t dangle his house like a carrot in front of me. “No.”

“I mean it.” He growls.

I narrow my eyes at him. “How dare you?”

“Oh, I fucking dare, alright.”

I shake my head in disbelief. What part of this is casual? “This isn’t working, Alastar. You are totally

crazy.”

“Em, don’t fight with me,” he urges as he places his hand on my hipbone.

I put my hands on his upper arms and we move closer together. “Stop being such a prick, Alastar,” I

whisper. “I’m here to break up with him.”

His eyes hold mine.

“I work with him and this has to be amicable. I’m trying to be an adult here. Let me do this properly.”

“Do you like him?” His eyes search mine.

“No. I like you and I’m with you. God knows why? You’re a total nut case.”

He smiles and kisses me gently.

I pull away from his kiss and put my hands through my own hair. “I have to get this over with tonight. I

have to tell him that I’m not interested.”

“Just go out there and tell him now so we can leave,” he says as his composure returns.

I stare at him deadpan.

“I will cook dinner for us at my house.” He smirks.

I continue to stare at him.

“You can stay over for the weekend.” He smiles sweetly dangling that damn carrot once more.

He’s bringing out the big guns now. I smirk. He kisses me again and I feel my resistance start to

waver.

“Come, let’s go home,” he whispers into my hair as he pulls me close.

Shit.

The latch jiggles on the door. “Emerson, are you okay?” Marks voice calls out.

I screw up my face. “Oh, please let me tell him. This is not fair. He doesn’t deserve this,” I whisper in

a panic.

“Yes, Mark,” I call. “I’m just not feeling that well. I will be out in a moment.”

Alastar stands still with his hands in his pockets, not saying anything.

“Pick me up from my apartment at eleven and I will come to yours for the weekend. Please… give me

three hours and let me get rid of him for good.”

His eyes hold mine as he thinks.

“Three hours is all I need,” I plead.

“Fine.” He sighs.

I smile broadly. Thank God. This is all going to work out. “Thank you.” I kiss his neck. “Go home. I

will see you soon.”

“I’m not leaving.”

I pull back and frown. “What?”This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“I’m staying at the bar.”

“A-alastar.” I stammer. “Stop it.”

“Take it or leave it.” I narrow my eyes and put my hands on my hips. “What if I leave it?”

“Then I will drag you out of here by your hair… Caveman style.” He lifts his chin defiantly.

I shake my head in frustration. “No, you fucking wont!” I snap.

“Watch me.” He growls.

The thing is, I know he’s serious. This jealousy is getting out of control. I stare at him for a moment as

I think. Just go out there and tell mark it’s off. I need to do this anyway, and maybe a deadline will

finally make the words leave my lips. “Fine, sit at the bar. Do not come near me, though.”

He smirks. “I will be coming near you.” He runs both of his hands through my hair and grips the sides

of my head. “In fact, I will be coming on you and inside of you, on your back, in your mouth.” He grabs

my behind aggressively with both hands and pulls my butt cheeks apart.

I smirk as I feel the stretch of his possession. That does sound good actually. Why does he have to be

so damn naughty? There isn’t a woman alive who could resist this?

“And if he touches you again, I will see you at the table when I cut off his hands.”

I stare at him. “What kind of casual is this, Alastar?”

“My kind of casual. I told you. I don’t fucking share.”

“You’re a nightmare, Alastar Oshea.”

He pushes me up against the sink and ravages my neck with his mouth. “You have no idea, Emmaline.”

I look up at the ceiling. “Funnily enough, yes, I do.”

Five minutes later, I nervously return to the table. “Sorry,” I murmur.

Mark puts his arm around the back of my chair and smiles warmly. “Are you okay, honey?”

My eyes hold his as I fake a smile. This guy is delusional. I’m so not his honey. “Sorry,” I mutter again

as I pick up my knife and fork. I eat my dinner in silence as Mark and his parents continue talking. My

eyes are constantly flicking between our table to upstairs where Alastar is now sitting at the bar with

another drink in his hand.

This is damn uncomfortable.