Rejected: A love story Chapter 93: I said No!!

Natasha’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she pulled up to Leila’s house. The street was quiet, lined with tall trees whose leaves rustled in the early afternoon breeze. She hadn’t expected to feel nervous, but a tight knot ford in her stomach. Leila wasn’t soone you ignored. And the fact that she had called—risking everything—ant trouble.

When she reached the door, she knocked, sharp and controlled.

The door swung open almost imdiately. Leila stood there, smiling in that infuriatingly confident way, a glass of wine lazily held in one hand. "Natasha," she said, voice smooth. "I was starting to wonder if you’d actually co."

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Why did you call ?" she asked, her tone fflat.she didn’t bother to greet, she wanted the aanswefirst

Leila’s smile didn’t falter. "You make it sound so cold. No hug, no hello..." She stepped aside, motioning Natasha in. "Co in, Natasha. Don’t stand on the doorstep all day."

Natasha entered, her senses imdiately assaulted by the scent of expensive candles and faint perfu—Leila’s signature mix. The door clicked closed behind her. Natasha’s eyes darted around, alert and wary.

"Why did you call ?" she repeated, sharper this ti.

Leila’s smile softened, but there was sothing dangerous beneath it. "You’ve been avoiding . Ignoring , acting like you’re soone else entirely." She took a step closer, and Natasha instinctively stepped back. "I called because I wanted to see you. Because I want... us. Just like before."

Natasha froze. Her voice dropped to a whisper, controlled but sharp. "What do you an, ’us’? We’re done, Leila. That Chapter is over."

Leila’s laughter was soft, but it held an edge. "Over? Really? That’s not how I rember it. Not how I rember you." She brushed a loose strand of Natasha’s hair from her face, and Natasha instinctively recoiled. "We had sothing, rember? Sothing you can’t just erase. You’re running from it, but I know you still feel it."

"I don’t feel it," Natasha said firmly. "And I won’t. Not anymore."

Leila’s eyes darkened for the first ti, narrowing dangerously. "You’re lying. You ca here, didn’t you? You’re here because you couldn’t say no. You wanted to see . Admit it."

Natasha’s jaw clenched. "I’m here because you called . That’s it."

Leila stepped closer, her voice a low whisper that made Natasha’s skin crawl. "I want you. Like we were in high school, in college. That closeness, that... intimacy. You know exactly what I an."

Natasha’s stomach twisted. "I don’t want that, Leila. Not ever again."

Leila’s smirk returned. "Not want it? That’s funny. Because you’re standing here, aren’t you? You can’t pretend there wasn’t a spark back then." She circled Natasha slowly, eyes sharp, calculating. "You’ve tried to bury it under all this—Nathan, your life, your little facade—but it’s still there. You feel it, don’t you?"

Natasha swallowed, her mind racing. "I feel nothing. And I’m not going to let you manipulate like before."

Leila laughed lightly, almost a sigh. "Manipulate? No, Natasha. I’m reminding you of the truth. We were good together. Better than anyone could ever be with us." She paused, tilting her head. "I called you here because I want to see if you can still rember that."

"I rember enough," Natasha said firmly, taking a careful step back. "I rember what I don’t want."

Leila’s eyes narrowed, and for a mont the smile disappeared. "You really think you’re in control now? That your little life with Nathan changes anything between us? That nothing I did... matters?" Her voice softened again, coaxing, dangerous. "You know you liked it. You know you always liked it."

"I said stop, Leila," Natasha said, her tone rising, but controlled. "I’m not going back to that. Ever."

Leila’s lips curled into a grin. "Then you’re boring now. You’ve grown dull and obedient, and I can’t have that. I want my Natasha. The one who didn’t hide, who didn’t play gas. The one who..."

"I’m not her," Natasha cut her off. "I’m done. You’ve made your choice, and I’ve made mine."

Leila’s grin faded, replaced by a asured, almost calculating look. "You’ve made yours? You an you’ve chosen Nathan, the life, the boring façade? And what about ? Don’t you care about anymore?" Her voice was quiet, insistent, almost pleading in a way that made Natasha’s chest tighten.

"I care about myself," Natasha said firmly. "And I’m done letting you control ."

Leila’s eyes flickered, a mix of anger and disbelief. "You’re really going to walk out? Like this?"

"Yes," Natasha said, every word deliberate. "I ca here to tell you no, and I’m leaving. I’m done being part of your gas."

Leila sighed, a soft sound that carried years of manipulation, teasing, and frustration. "You’ve changed," she said almost quietly. "But you’ll see... you can’t forget . You’ll rember. You always do."

Natasha turned toward the door, her hand reaching for the knob, but Leila moved faster than she anticipated. In a blur of motion, Leila’s fingers closed around Natasha’s wrist, not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough to halt her escape. The touch sent an unwelco shiver up Natasha’s arm, a ghost of mories she’d buried deep.

"Wait," Leila murmured, her voice dropping to that husky timbre that had once unraveled Natasha’s resolve. She pulled Natasha back gently, turning her to face the room again. The air between them thickened, charged with the unspoken history that Leila refused to let die. "You can’t just leave like this. Not after everything."

Natasha yanked her wrist free, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Everything? You an the way you twisted around your finger? The nights I woke up hating myself because of you? That’s not ’everything,’ Leila. That’s poison."

Leila’s gaze road over Natasha’s face, lingering on the curve of her lips, the flush creeping up her neck. She set her wine glass down on a nearby table with deliberate slowness, the clink echoing in the quiet space. Stepping closer, she invaded Natasha’s personal bubble, close enough that Natasha could feel the heat radiating from her body. "Poison? Or passion? You used to crave it, Natasha. The way I’d pin you against the wall, my mouth on your throat, fingers sliding under your skirt until you begged. Rember how wet you got for ? How you’d arch into my touch, whispering my na like a prayer?"

Natasha’s breath hitched, her body betraying her with a flicker of heat low in her belly. She hated it—the way Leila’s words painted vivid pictures, dragging up sensations she’d fought to forget. The press of Leila’s thigh between her legs in stolen monts, the slick slide of tongues and the sharp bite of teeth on sensitive skin. But she shoved it down, steeling herself. "That’s the past. And it wasn’t love. It was you owning , using . I’m not that girl anymore."

Leila’s hand lifted, hovering near Natasha’s cheek without touching, as if testing the air between them. Her eyes, dark and intent, locked onto Natasha’s. "Owning you? Maybe. But you loved being owned. Admit it—you ca here because part of you misses it. Misses taking control, making you feel alive. Nathan can’t do that. He’s safe, predictable. Boring. But I... I know every inch of you. I know how to make your pussy clench just by looking at you like this." She leaned in, her breath warm against Natasha’s ear. "Tell you don’t want to prove it."

Natasha’s pulse thundered in her ears, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her blouse despite her resolve. She stepped back, bumping into the edge of the couch, her voice steady but laced with strain. "Prove it? No. I ca to end this, not relive it. You called here to manipulate again, but it won’t work. I’m walking out, and you need to let go."

Leila’s expression shifted, a predatory glint surfacing as she closed the gap once more. Her hand darted out, fingers grazing the side of Natasha’s neck, thumb brushing the pulse point there. "Let you go? After I felt your heart racing just now? You’re lying to yourself, Natasha. Your body rembers. Let show you." Before Natasha could react, Leila’s lips brushed her jawline, soft and insistent, a tease of what had once been their undoing.

Natasha jerked away, her hand coming up to push at Leila’s shoulder. "Stop! I said no." Her voice cracked slightly, the tension coiling tighter, a mix of anger and the forbidden thrill she despised. The room felt smaller, the scent of Leila’s perfu wrapping around her like a snare.