It's been six days.

Five nights have been spent in Mason's room, and in those five nights he has had two nightmares. I was aware that Mason didn't sleep with anyone because of his nightmares, but I never knew the importance of how much falling asleep beside another person means to him.

When the first one occurred, he woke up from screaming in his sleep.

Unlike the first time it happened with me, he knew who I was. He still had a hard time breathing, it sounded as though the walls around his lungs were closing in on him. He was shaking, sweating, he didn't want to be touched or have the lights on.

He seemed ashamed.

Of himself, of the reasoning why it was happening, because I was in the room witnessing him at such a vulnerable state. He didn't want me to see him clearly without the safety darkness brings, he was able to hide behind the veil in the shadows, giving it the permission to swallow him whole. But I didn't let his own fears drown mine, because when those moments occurred I knew that no matter how many times he'd rather shield himself in the dark, I'd help him fight his demons.

The second time it happened there was no screaming. He let me turn on the lights, he let me touch him and be closer to him all while he knelt in front of the toilet in his bathroom and hurled out the contents in his stomach.

He was shaking just as vigorously, his body was coated with sweat, and the only words that came out of his mouth were apologies- for waking me up, for putting me in this position, for 'scaring' me. While he sat on the floor, back leaning against the bathtub I gently wiped his face down with a damp washcloth, whispering sweet nothings in his ears before holding him tight against me.

But even then, those whispered words and gentle affections towards him were blocked from warming the cold and withdrawn state he was in from the steel guard he constantly had placed up during those times. Although both nights had their own differences, they ended the same. His eyes would look everywhere but me, his shoulders slackened, the steps he took looked heavier than they did before, and he was quiet.

Very quiet.

Then right before he would crawl back into bed with me, I noticed him walk over to his bedroom door and lock it. The images of what crept into my mind behind the reasoning for him locking his door sickened me- pained me.

His hurt made me hurt.

Mason slept through the entire night within the rest of those five days, but when he struggled he would use the help of intoxicates. One night I could see it in his eyes that he seemed fearful to close his, to give in to sleep and put himself in that vulnerable position again, and when I thought he would succumb to the inevitable, he sat up and snorted the remnants of cocaine he still had in his bedside drawer.

The nights were difficult for him, but they weren't all bad. I didn't know if I was helping or worsening the situation by being in the room with him, but whenever I asked him if I should go he would only hold me tighter and whisper to me asking if I could fall asleep first.

Every night I would try to fall asleep first. Sometimes he would wait for it, and everytime he did my heart would crack a little more.

But it wasn't always like that. During those five days with him we would spend our free time at Freddie's bar, or with the boys which unfortunately (for him) Jaime was always there, establishing himself into the group. Mason was out every morning training at the warehouse for a couple hours, and everytime he was gone I would remain in his room, watching whatever show I could indulge myself in until he returned.

Sometimes I'd be interrupted from the front doorbell ringing to find that Mason had ordered me food- It was always thai, since he knew it was my favorite.

Then he would come back and we would finish where we left off on the Marvel movies, since we're currently watching every single one in the correct timeline order. I would lie between his legs, my back against his chest while he rolled up either a joint, blunt or backwood to smoke while the movie played in front of us.

He thought it was funny when I spoke the lines with the actors.

I thought it was funny when he did too.

Those days became a routine. Mason training, me staying behind to relax and get spoiled with food, him returning and either going out or spending the entire rest of the day inside snuggling up to one another and voicing out dialogues from Marvel movies.

All of it was a routine, those five days almost felt like the normal standard between us. Like it was something we did all the time, and it was something we'd continue to do for as long as we wanted.

And then there was the sex.

Lots and lots of sex.

Shower sex, bedroom sex, sex on the floor of his bedroom or on the nearest wall beside us.

If I could create a formal apology to my vagina, I would. I would apologize on behalf of the man so keen on destroying it, but then I would end the apology with about a half a page of no other words besides 'you're welcome', because although I have never felt this sore in my entire life, I've also never felt this good.

There was one day after we had sex on couch in the living room, his slick, sweaty body was still hovering right over mine, we had just fnnished, and the entire room was quiet. He was looking straight down at me with those green eyes that have somehow become my favorite color, his mouth wasn't moving, body wasn't moving, he was just staring at me, looking at one side of my face to the other. And although his eyes looked tired, weary from what just occurred between us, they almost glistened, sparkled above me.

And right when I thought he was going to say something, he closed his mouth, reached out and patted my head.

I laughed so hard tears were coming out of my eyes because Mason pat my head after sex.

That happened three days ago, and since then every time we finish having sex he pats my head and places a kiss on my forehead.

Every.Single.Time.

I wish I could say that it didn't make my heart skip a beat every time he did, but it does- shit, it does. It's a weird thing, a strange thing, but it's our thing.

The one day I wasn't cooped up in Mason's room with him I spent the night with Jess. These past few days have been a bit difficult to sneak around her, but hiding out in corners stealing kisses with Mason every chance I got made me feel like we were teenagers in high school pushing each other in the janitors closet just to stand in one another's presence.

And then there were the notes.

The sticky notes with sweet little messages Mason would leave in random places in his room or on my car window for me to find. It reminded me of the first time he did it, after the incident with Isaac happened and he left ice cream outside Jessica's bedroom door with that note hanging on it's side wishing me goodnight.

The notes were simple one sentence messages, but I cherished every single one of them more than he would ever know. For instance, the one he left on the mirror in his bathroom that read: You look beautiful today.

Or the one he placed under my phone the night I stayed with Jessica for me to find first thing in the morning: I missed you last night

And then my favorite, the one he left outside my car window after he disappeared to go train for the evening: I can't wait to kiss you again

Every message almost made my heart burst inside my chest.

But it was just another thing that was ours.

Ours.

After Mason left this morning to go to the warehouse I kept myself busy by finding a new Netflix show to binge until he returned. Because of the fact that the two of us only got a total of four hours of sleep last night for obvious reasons, after two episodes I end up pushing my laptop aside, crawling under the comforter and falling asleep enveloped in the pure scent of all things him.

I'm not sure how much time had passed until I could feel kisses being planted on my cheek, the blankets tightening around me, followed by a whisper telling me that after a shower he'll join me in bed.

And then he did, and when I felt the mattress dip from his weight being placed on top of it I turned around half asleep, bodies migrating to one another's, my nose brushing against his bare chest as his arms wrap around me for warmth even with the blanket covering our bodies until sleep overtook me once again.

A soft, velvety tickle grazes against my skin and I strain to lift my eyelids to wake myself up because all I can focus on is how my small body is being squished by Mason's large one. His head is buried in the crook of my neck while I lie with my stomach facing the ceiling, feeling every puff of breath, every rise and fall from his shirtless bare chest and every faint skim the tip of his nose makes against my skin. His legs are intertwined with mine, one strong muscular arm draped over my chest while his hand is placed directly over the mounted peak of my breast under the Tshirt I stole from his drawer to wear.

As weird as it sounds, it wasn't uncommon for me to find Mason palming my breast in his sleep.

One morning I woke up to find his mouth literally on top of it.

The room is darker than it was before I slept, the sun has set outside from us and the only thing illuminating his bedroom is the glow of the lamp on the bedside table. The day has gone by, the world has continued to move and shift around us but yet here I lie, sharing a pillow with a man who's nearly breaking my bones with his body and I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

My arm is tucked under his head from my fingertips gently stroking his scalp from when he first entered the bed since I know it calms him when he's trying to sleep. But now, even though the tingling sensation within it is exhibiting threats of going completely numb, I still drop my arm down to his hair that looks messier than it did earlier today and brush my fingers against him, soothing, caring, adoring him while he sleeps soundly beside me- something I'll never take for granted ever again.

He brings his body closer against mine, holding onto me like a teddy bear, and just when I feel myself start to relax into him again, wanting him to get as much sleep as possible, the phone rings.

It's loud shrill high pitched tone ruins the moment entirely, and I know that it's going to be almost impossible to squeeze myself out of his grip and reach my phone without waking him up in the process. It rings, on and on and on and my body stills, mind wondering if I stay frozen, unfazed by the blaring sound, if Mason will just ignore it entirely.

He doesn't.

He twists and turns against me, groans and whines and buries his head deeper into my neck, planting a single kiss inside the open space while he complains about the interruption.

"It's yours." He informs me as if I don't already know, his voice a little gruff and laced with the aftermath of sleeping for the past hour and a half. I don't move as quickly as he wants me to, which results in his hand patting against my breast in an effort to get me to wake up even though I've been awake for the past five minutes. "It's yours."

I groan, mimicking the sounds Mason was just voicing and use more energy than I should to turn my body since he's still laying directly on top of it. I prop myself up using my elbows and extend my arm out to grab the buzzing device in front of me with Mason following suit, his arms now around my waist refusing to let me go.

My eyes look over the name on the screen and I curse at myself, knowing full well what this call is for. My index finger clicks the green button and I bring it to my ear, falling back onto the mattress under me.

"Heyyyy," Jessica greets with a little too much enthusiasm, and me only just woken up five minutes ago internally groans at the sound, "So what time should Natalie pick us up tonight?"

I don't have to turn around in order to see that Mason's eyes are now burning into me. I'm well aware that he's able to hear Jessica's words since the phone in my hand is currently in between the two of us. My assumptions are proven correct when he holds me tighter against him.

"Fuck, I forgot." I lift my free hand up to wipe the grogginess from my eyes, minimizing the exhausted weight in the two of them.

Surprisingly enough, even though I have been doing almost absolutely nothing except for the man beside me, I still forgot about the plans I made with Natalie and Jessica to go to Club X tonight. Since Natalie is back now, Jessica thought it'd be a good idea to finally bring her, but in all honesty I think she's using this opportunity to try and bring us closer again. Jessica has noticed the shift in Natalie's attitude since she's been back, and I know her patience on it is wearing thin since she's never put up with passive aggressiveness towards anyone before. But, she's giving us- or rather, me- this chance to put it behind us since she knows Natalie's friendship still means something to me.

Maybe it's because we've been friends for as long as I can remember, or the fact that the thought of our friendship getting ruined by something so 'minor' doesn't sit right with me. Either way, I'm willing to work on things if she is, but I can't be the only one putting in the effort if she isn't going to try.

Luckily for me, there will be drinks tonight. Some much needed drinks.

"I'm not even surprised at this point. Calling you hours before our previously reserved plans has become a necessity." I let out a small laugh while Mason only rolls his eyes beside me, "The cost of my forgiveness is the first round of shots on you."

I shake my head even though she can't see me, "Yeah, okay."

"And I hope you don't mind but Natalie may have suggested to someone that you'd be there tonight." Jessica says, and I hear Mason shift beside me, lying on his stomach and propping himself on his elbows just as I was previously so his head is fully facing me.

I look over at him, and his eyebrows are slightly pushed together, top of his forehead etched in wrinkless and I lift my arms out to him and smooth my fingers over his brow and press away the crease. The wrinkles have disappeared, but the frown remains.

"Really? Who?"

"Jaime." She answers and Mason's jaw sets tight, his eyes rolling a second time now, "She thinks he's interested in you."

I find what Jessica is saying hard to believe. Sure, Jaime and I have hung out once or twice since being at Corey's last week- with the boys present of course- but in those times I've spent with him he hasn't once insinuated that he had any type of feelings for me.

In fact, I've recently learned that he had just moved back into town because of the unfortunate event of him finding his now ex girlfriend in bed with one of his best friends. After discovering the two of them last month, he moved out and started another life here. With that being the case I highly doubt that he's had any romantic thoughts about the two of us. He's a friend, a good friend, and nothing more.

Especially with this man beside me on the verge of breaking his jaw if he doesn't relax it soon.

"Since when has she started playing matchmaker?" I ask.

"Since she figured he'd be a good fuck since you've ended things with Aiden." The frown on Mason's face immediately softens, along with every other angry feature in front of me, but although his shoulders look more calm, they still hold some tension, "Can you blame her? He screams big dick energ-"

My phone is snatched out of my phone before I have a chance to react.

And once I do, his arm is already stretched out further away and out of my reach. I scramble out from under the covers and try to jump on top of him but his free hand is at my stomach, keeping me restrained.

"Give me my phone back." I whisper and he shakes his head, putting my phone farther from me.

"Not a chance. Why the fuck is she saying he has big dick en-" Before he's able to finish to finish his sentence I push his hand off my stomach, jump from the mattress and tackle his body with my own.

There's arms flying everywhere, soft pushes and shoves being exchanged, laughter tainted with a bit of our anger flowing throughout the room as we wrestle each other for my phone. After I manage to wiggle my arms out from under his grasp I push myself up to straddle his waist and reach over to grab the pillow beside his head, placing it right on top of his face and pushing it down.

Not hard enough for him to suffocate of course. 

Without the benefit of using his vision since his face is now stuffed under the pillow, I reach over and grab my phone out from his hands, ignoring the muffled laughs coming out of his mouth.

"Elle? What the fuck is that noise?" Jessica asks after I place her on speaker in order to refrain keeping the pillow on Mason's face from being a distraction.

I can feel my heart thumping double the normal pace from being forced to wrestle Mason for my phone back, and as I look down at him, still hearing the sound of that beautiful laughter of his I have to bite down on my lip to keep from smiling.

I won

"Nothing." I poorly excuse, as my cautious eyes watch Mason bring his hand up, blindly slipping it under the fabric of my tshirt and feeling his way up straight towards my chest. The blood in my veins warm and I have to tighten my legs around Mason's waist in order to stop fidgeting. "I just- oh, shit!"

He squeezed my nipple... The fucker squeezed my nipple, hard.

His actions take my by surprise and my body moves before my brain has any say in it. I jump up, my arms instinctively wrapping protectively over my chest while the slight stinging pain of him squeezing me burns under my skin. He uses the exact moment my hips raise off his own to shift forward and drop me back down to the mattress.

I can't help the laughs coming out of my mouth when the phone falls out of my hands and Mason repositions his body over mine, once again crushing it with all of his weight.

"Wait a damn minute..." Jessica begins, "Are you with a guy right now?"

"No-"

"Yes!" Mason's confirmation is yelled out to the phone and my eyes nearly pop out of my head as I immediately clamp my hand over his mouth to silence him. The smile on his lips is evident even under my hand- it reaches his eyes. His smiles barely ever reach his eyes.

"Oh my fuck, is that the guy that-"

"I got to go Jess, I'll see you tonight." I interrupt, reaching over to grab my phone and swiftly hang up before she asks any more unwanted questions.

Mason licks my hand and I quickly remove it from his mouth, shooting daggers at him with my eyes from below. His arms wrap themselves around my waist, proving that he has no plans of getting off of me anytime soon.

"The fuck you will." He says in response to my goodbye to Jessica.

I roll my eyes, disregarding his comment, "What the fuck was that?"

He must know what I'm referring to because right when the words leave my lips his fingers lift the hem of my shirt upwards revealing my entire naked stomach in front of him. His head drops down, giving a kiss to the nipple he squeezed while his eyes remain on mine, watching me intently under him.

I continue, ignoring the ache growing in between my legs from his soft lips planting kisses all over my breast, "I already made plans for tonight, if Jaime happens to be there-"

He stops, "Do you want him to be?"

"He's my friend."

"Your friend?" The word sounds like poison on his tongue as he brings my shirt back down to fully cover me, his arm moving back around my waist to hold me in place. "So you're labeling it now, huh? Things sure have changed since me warning him never to touch you."

"He hasn't done anything wrong. You should be nicer to him."

He squeezes me closer against him and I marvel in the wonder of such a simple movement, "He fucks you with his eyes constantly. I would know, I do it all the time."

Butterflies flutter in my stomach but I stamp them down. He looks down at me, not saying another word as his chest lingers right above mine. The room is dark, except for the dim light of the lamp beside us, and the bright street lights lightening the night sky outside of these four walls, but even with the lack of light I'm able to see the way his eyes are taking me in.

Everything heats up under my skin, his breath falling across my upper lip and the apples off my cheeks burn from tinting a delicate shade of red.

My lips find the tip of his nose, both cheeks, planting against the stubble growing over his jawline from abstaining from shaving these past couple of days while he holds me in a way no one ever has before.

"Would you like some peanut butter with that jelly?" I joke to soften the mood and he dips his chin down, shooting me an amused look.

I take this time to break free from his grasp, placing my hands against his chest and giving him a light shove to signal that I want him off. He obliges my silent request and sits up beside the end of the bed while I crawl off of it, my body saunting over to his dresser where I left my folded pair of sweatpants, but before I even take two steps away from him I feel his hand gently grab my waist, bringing me back to him.

I stand in between his legs, and it still astounds me how he's sitting and yet I still have to crane my head up to meet his gaze.

"I'm not jealous, I just don't like him."

Shocker

"You don't like anyone." I note and I hold his eyes for one, two, three seconds while the corners of his lips raise ever-so-slightly and he leans in to give me a short, wordless kiss that says more than a voiced response ever could.

His fingers graze the lace material of the thong I'm wearing under his tshirt, index finger and thumb brushing along my skin in tender strokes and I continue, "And besides, even if it were just me and the girls tonight I know you wouldn't be loving the idea of that either."

He nods, "You're right, I wouldn't."

"Well then," My body leans in closer to his, his bare naked chest now against my clothed one, "Luckily for me I don't need your permission."

And after kissing his cheek, I turn around and head towards his dresser to retrieve my sweatpants. As I bend over to place on foot in each empty leg hole, the tightness of the material feels more stiffening than before. During my stay at Jessica's, almost every day I've been wearing Mason's close. His shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, boxer briefs, socks- everything I needed.

My sweatpants don't give me the same feel as his do, sure they fit me unlike his clothes, but they don't smell like him, they don't warm me the same way, and for a moment I contemplate stealing some of his to keep for myself.

Mason's words break me out of my kleptomaniac thoughts.

"So, what time should I pick you up?"

He's changed positions now, his body is leaning against the pillows, arms stretched out and folded under his head, ankle resting on top of the other while he looks cool, calm, collected and is staring at me with innocence in his eyes.

My eyebrows knit together, "Excuse me?"

"For the club."

"You weren't invited."

"Last I checked clubs were open to anyone ages twenty one and up. Fortunately for me, I happen to fall under that category."

He is diabolical

"I know what you're doing. You can't follow me around playing bodyguard all night."

His mouth parts a bit, right hand moving over his heart while he pretends to look offended. "I will do no such thing."

My feet move before I'm able to stop them, inching closer and closer until I'm right beside him, eyes narrowing, lips twitching in an effort to not crack the smile his eyes are telling me he's yearning to see.

He goes on, "You know, I've made several gestures of friendship towards Jaime and he's declined every one."

My head tilts to the side, "Really? Like the other day when he greeted you and after you completely ignored him, so he felt forced to awkwardly give me a compliment to try and break the silence and you burned him with your cigarette?"

His shoulders rise and fall quickly, giving me a shrug, "It slipped- a poorly timed accident."

Sure

"You're not picking me up. I'm coming over here later and Natalie is driving us. You're not coming, Jaime is my friend and you don't get to terrorize him all night at the club."

My words don't seem to vex him, "Is he free reigns after the club then?"

I look at him and he looks at me, both of us wanting to smile and neither wanting to give into it. Instead, I shake my head to try and rid the giddy thoughts of being out with him tonight. Five days, one hundred and twenty hours and still it's not enough.

His hands slip around my waist, pulling me closer and I'm molded into the shape of him. His fingers brush the side of my neck, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, cheek pressing against my head and I melt, hot butter dripping down his body against the muscle of him and into a puddle on the floor.

He whispers, tip of his nose grazing the shell of my ear, "I'll be on my best behavior."

A small laugh escapes me, "That's what worries me."

I can feel him smile against me, the way the apples of cheeks feel more prominent is a dead giveaway and I quickly wonder if the smile meets his eyes. He doesn't smile enough- not nearly enough. When he does they're small, short, more often than not just a simple little smirk of his lips but they all have different meanings. Lately, he's been smiling- really smiling- the smile that assumes happiness.

I hope he's happy.

I wish it more than anything.

"You never told me about Aiden." His words bring me back to reality, they're not accusing or held with an ounce of anger or judgment, only factual.

The skin on his nose brushes against the skin on my cheek, trailing to somewhere only he knows and once again, I'm reminded about the man- no, boy- who refuses to not only leave my mind, but my life.

He's called every single day for the past six days. Texted me messages ranging from unfeeling apologies to angered promises about the end result of everything I'm putting myself through. He left voicemails that I deleted right once they appeared on screen, yesterday I even saw an email in my inbox.

"What else are you hiding from me?" He asks, the low, gruffness of his voice still sending vibrations through me.

I shake all the thoughts of Aiden out of my head, I don't need to think about that now. Aiden and I have been broken up since the second half of senior year, I don't need to feel bad about moving on and falling for somebody else.

I wish things with him could be easier, that maybe we could have ended up being friends. But his entire personality changed right before my eyes, he started talking down to me, turning violent at times, getting angry at every little thing I'd do. It took a while to walk away, I was so used to his previous behavior that I made excuses, used guilt to trap me into the fabricated dream of where the two of us were going.

Now it's over and I want him to let me go, I need him to let me go.

I look at Mason, pushing all my worried thoughts aside to examine the man who's smile finally continually meets his eyes.

My lips touch his, the fire and electricity from the contact burning away my troubles.

"I'll see you tonight." I tell him, feeling his eyes follow my every move while I head out towards his door.

❀

After arriving home, I used my free time showering and getting ready for the club. I must have spent twenty minutes rummaging through my closet to try and find a dress to wear, and I tried to lean closer to something with a splash of color, but as all my options laid before me on the bed all my eyes could focus on was the black one.

It was shorter than something I'd normally go for, the shoulder straps above the deep neckline were thin and created a cross back all the way down to my lumbar region. It was a bodycon dress, so it's tight fitted in all the right places, revealing the perfect amount of cleavage while also leaving enough to the imagination. I decided to pair it with black sandal heels with an ankle tie up detail; the black straps lacing around and ending a few inches above my ankle. I wasn't ashamed of showing some skin, for once when I looked in the mirror I felt good- pretty even.

And when I drove up to Jessica's house, I neglected to tell her I arrived just so I could make one quick stop on the way to her bedroom beforehand. Once my hand opens the door to his bedroom I casually place my back against it, shoving it shut behind me, and there he is.

He's standing back to me, several feet away. His gaze is focused right above his outstretched hand as he rolls up sleeves of the black dress shirt he's wearing. Right when he hears the sound of the door closing shut his eyes lift to meet mine.

I catch his sudden intake of breath, very aware of how his eyes are scaling down my body and my ankle nearly wobbles from under me. For a moment we say nothing, but something about the way he stands before me with absolute stillness tells me everything I need to know.

My eyes take him in, and find him wearing all black, which I figured would be the case. He left the top buttons of his dress shirt loose and unfasted, revealing the black swirls of ink staining his skin right below the material.

Just one look at him and I can already feel my panties dampen.

He's handsome, beautiful, alluring in every way possible and I find my shoulders relaxing a bit against the door when he's the first one to break the sexual tensioned silence.

"Are you trying to get me arrested tonight?"

I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, but then I see him shake his head, pulling his fist against his mouth and biting his knuckles as he walks towards me in a painfully slow manner.

"Now why would that happen?" I dare to look up at him once he reaches me, taking a long, deep breath as he scrolls up the length of my body until he meets my eyes.

I hold his stare, diving in as I lean against the door, eyeing him.

"You look beautiful." He whispers, the words spoken in the sentence cracking a little in his voice. He shakes his head once more, almost as if his words didn't do him justice, "You are," he corrects, "You are beautiful." Another deep exhale as his forehead rests against mine, our lips still not close enough, "So beautiful."

Every butterfly in the world has migrated to my stomach.

My eyes flutter closed when his palm is placed against my cheek to hold my face, the softness of his lips making contact with my skin in a greeting. I'm almost embarrassed by how quickly his voice can undo me to the point where it's just about impossible to forget how my brain desires for him to lick me, bite me, undress me, take me.

"You like the dress?" I ask him, fire burning in his eyes as his gaze drops to my mouth right when I lick my lips.

"Mmm..." He responds, "Yes. In fact, I like it so much that I can't fucking wait to rip it off you later."

My chest shakes with having him so close. I can almost taste his mouth against mine. His body is hovering, chest pressed against chest, nose skimming against nose, recycling each other's breasts while he cages me in, prohibiting me from moving an inch.

"Were you worried I wasn't going to like it?" His voice is a mere whisper, his fingers slipping beneath the straps before releasing them, "You see, I've come to realize that everyone wants what's mine, with your beauty it's inevitable. But I already have a solution for that, in case you're forgotten, baby..." His bottom lip brushes against my ear, "I know how to fight."

I have to swallow the saliva building in my mouth in order to moisten my dried out throat.

"You won't be fighting anyone." My voice is weak coming out, affected by the kisses Mason is planting all along my skin. My cheeks, nose, forehead and repeating all while he makes sure to get every untouched inch ahead of him.

I want to kiss him- everywhere, every beautiful beat of his heart I want to kiss.

Then his arms are around my waist and he's pulling me so close against him, his lips trailing kisses anywhere and everywhere as he says my name once, twice and in this moment I'm almost absolutely positive that I've never heard any other single human make my name sound as incredible as he does.

"I-" I swallow, my body catching fire quickly, "I like it when you kiss me like this."

When he kisses my face everywhere but my lips, taking everything in, every little feature and mark and flaw and turn it into- make it feel beautiful. Make me feel beautiful.

He smiles against me, "I'm just cherishing you." He whispers, continuing to kiss my skin like he's never done it before, and I swear I've stopped breathing, "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have somewhere I need to be." He teases, "Before that, however, let me take care of my baby real quick. Cherish her in another way." He grazes my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, "Fuck... If you keep looking at me like that we're not going to leave this room until I show you just how much I like that dress."

And then he loses it.

He reaches down, grabs the back of my thighs and hauls me up. Within seconds I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing his body closer to mine while he swallows my whimper by pressing his mouth to mine so hard that my back collides with the door behind me. He kisses me possessively, desperately, moving hard over my mouth and brushing our tongues together, tasting me, claiming me.

My hands explore his arms, his neck, the back of his hair as I moan softly into him, my dress rising higher above my thighs, and I tighten them around him, needing to feel him, needing to be closer.

A kiss was just a kiss until he kissed me.

Now it's more. So, so much more.

I dive down, building the courage to bury my lips into his neck and feel his hot skin between my lips and teeth as I suck, bite, kiss it from right under me, and right when I flick his ear lobe with the tip of my tongue he digs his fingers into my thighs, slamming me back into the door once more in order to gain control again.

The sound of our breaths being swallowed by each other's overwhelms my senses, and I love the way he groans into me when he takes my bottom lip in between his teeth and pulls. He's kissing me harder, deeper, with an urgent need I'm starting to understand. I feel him in the areas he's not touching me, he's everywhere all at once it's like the most acute form of torture but I'm drugged by it.

He pulls his lips from mine for a moment to collect a breath, his forehead falling against my own as he exhales long and hard.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says between breaths.

And I know.

Because I feel it too.

"Fuck, baby... Sometimes you make it so hard to breathe."

Tingles spread underneath my skin. But before I'm able to give him any sort of response his lips drop to mine again, only this time it's soft, calm- the complete opposite of how they were moments ago. His hands return back to me, and although he's kissing me the only thing I can focus on following is how the tips of his fingers are trailing down, down, down, slipping in the empty space between my dress and running up the wet slit over my soaked panties.

"You see what you do to me? Can never control myself around you." He confesses, right before hooking my panties with his finger and pushing them off to the side, inserting not one, but two fingers inside me and I struggle to keep my moan silent.

My back arches against the door, and my eyes screw shut, as I'm forced to bite down on my lip in order to refrain from letting out exactly what his fingers are doing to me. He's doing things that would normally make me scream his name, but with Jessica's room right down the hall I have to be conscious of the sounds escaping me.

He slides his fingers all the way in and back out in long, rough strokes before bringing them up and rubbing against me. As of now, I am more than grateful for his other free hand being secured right under my ass or else I would have gone limp onto the floor by now.

He goes back to my neck, kissing and licking, dragging his teeth against my jaw, occasionally biting my earlobe with his teeth without ever slowing down his fingers and I fight to maintain quiet.

"Mason..." I breathe out, moving my hips to grind against his hand.

"Say it again." He pleas, his hardened bulge rubbing against me, "My name. Say it again."

His fingers keep their movements deep and steady and I spread my legs wider, heels digging into his backside as I shake and writhe against him.

"Mason... Mason, fuck..." I whimper, grinding harder, fucking his fingers.

"Just like that, baby. Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that. Could listen to it all day. Could listen to you all day and never get tired, never complain."

I don't even have the strength to process his words as a familiar tightness pools into my belly , building into something I know I won't be able to hold out for much longer. His head leans further down, kissing the skin right above my breast before he licks the skin, savoring it. I can't comprehend what he's doing with his lips, all I can feel are his fingers and how they're obliterating me.

My head falls into his shoulder, holding the back of his neck while he draws out his fingers, swirling the wetness around me in quick circles before going back in again. My heart is jackhammering against my chest, breath growing faster and faster and suddenly staying quiet is more challenging than I ever thought it could be.

Pleasure builds in between my legs, my muscles tense and as I squeeze my eyes shut his mouth meets mine again in a frantic kiss. It's messy and chaotic, but his lips are hungrily consuming mine when a sensation starts to ripple my body.

He knows I'm breaking, and instead of slowing down he picks up his pace, feeling my body's convulsions as the orgasm works through me. I break free from his lips, forcing my head down and burying my face in his neck, gently biting down on his shoulder to stop me from shouting his name.

My body suddenly becomes dead weight against him, and I blink my exhausted eyes, coming down off of the cloud I was on moments ago. I'm tired, sweaty, in no shape or form ready to handle going to the club for the next few hours.

I breathe him in, the only thing on repeat in my mind is

Mason Mason Mason

He slowly lets me down, letting my feet come back to the floor and uses his hand not drenched in the evidence of what he just did to grip my waist and hold me steady. My back falls back onto the door and I look up at him, dazed and slowly but surely reshaping my liquidated state into a solid.

He looks down at me, his chest heaving with a faint smile spread across his lips, looking pleased. I lower my head to fix the hem of my dress, pulling it back down to cover my ass and right when I do so I notice something that wasn't there before.

A fucking hickey right over my breast, displayed for the whole world to see.

His smile widens while my face hardens.

"Fuck you." I pant, trying to catch my breath.

A small chuckle escapes his lips, "We'll have time for that later, baby. Open your mouth." He commands, and I shake my head, aggravated for a moment before I tilt my head back, opening my mouth for him.

His fingers coated with my release are brought up and he smoothly places them in my mouth for me to suck on them. My eyes lock with his as my tongue swirls around his wet fingers, starting from the very bottom and slowly dragging upwards until I reach the top, tasting myself on him and noticing the way he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, groaning at my actions.

"Ah ah ah," He tsks, shaking his head and removing them from my mouth, "Save some for me."

And his eyes stay holding mine as he puts them in his own mouth without another word.

❀

After pulling myself together, I exit Mason's room and walk down the hallway and over to Jessica's, praying that my most recent indiscretions aren't written all over my face. It took her all of about thirty seconds to notice the mark on my chest, and I appreciated how she kept her questions to herself, respecting my privacy and only shooting me an approved glance in that direction.

She told me that the plans changed, and that Natalie will actually meet us there instead of driving, and Mason took the opportunity to mention that he was tagging along. They bickered back and forth like they always do for a few minutes, but after he agreed to be the designated driver her mouth closed almost instantly.

The ride to the club was quick, and I had to disregard the wet, damp, sticky feeling in between my thighs, mentally scolding Mason's lack of patience, and my lack of self restraint.

For the entire ride over I sat in the backseat behind Mason while Jessica sat beside him in the passenger seat. The second I would look into the rearview mirror, so would he. I lost count of how many times he caught me, and me him, and ignored the way him sneaking in glances would run a shiver down my spine.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt something soft brush against my ankle, and as I looked down, I saw his hand tucked between the empty space between the driver's seat and the wall of the inside of the car, to circle around my ankle.

Mason was holding onto my ankle while he was driving- brushing my skin with his thumb while his eyes remained on the road.

That was the moment I realized Mason's love language was touch.

Most definitely touch

Once he found parking, we walked toward the entrance and it took one glance in Mason's direction for the bouncer to unhook the velvet rope barrier and let us pass- no questions asked. I found it strange, normally we'd have to say we're friends of Felix's and have our fingers crossed that that'd be enough. I remind myself to remain unfazed by the sudden acceptance into the club as we walked inside.

Jessica walked ahead of Mason and I, and his hand was instantly placed on the small of my back as she led us through the throngs of people dancing, stumbling and enacting on God knows what kind of drugs as she took us to our usual spot in the VIP location. There were people everywhere- surrounding the dance floor with bodies moving in an enthralling rhythm, drinking at the bar shoulder to shoulder, their silhouettes ignited by the pulsating strobe lights above us.

The night in the club was different from all the others, because this night there were two stripper poles right in the center of the circular glass surfaced stage in front of the crowd.

The first half hour or so was spent ordering drinks, and I noticed everyone slowly relaxing as the alcohol took effect. I felt the shots of tequila I had, plus the whiskey Mason poured into my mouth earlier coursing through my veins, heating my body more than the rising temperature in the club did.

Jaime ended up inviting Alec and Corey as well, and it didn't take long for Alec to find a girl to throw over his hips and distract him for the rest of the evening. Corey remained by Jesica's side, and I didn't fail to notice the small touches the two would exchange between each other.

There were women dancing along the stripper poles ahead of us in nothing but lace lingerie, but throughout their entire performance Mason never even looked in their direction, his eyes were on me.

Now, I'm currently waiting patiently for the drinks I ordered, my body sitting on the barstool right beside Jaime who's here with me making small talk. Surprisingly enough, Mason kept his promise of being on his best behavior for the night. I can still feel his eyes from where I'm sitting, but instead of storming across the club and over to using a rage, he's watching from a distance.

"He's not going to bash my face in later, is he?" Jaime asks, his hand signaling to the bartender that he'd like a refill on the drink he just finished.

"Who?"

"Mason. No offense or anything, but even sitting this close to you puts my life at risk."

I let out a drunken laugh, my body feeling heavier than normal, "Actually, I think tonight might be his night off from bashing people's faces in."

I empty the contents of Patron in the shot glass in front of me, and as I lick away the alcohol dripping down my mouth I can still taste Mason on my lips from earlier. I can still feel him everywhere, my body still tingling from his pressed against mine, fucking me with his fingers against the door, challenging me to be quiet.

I can still feel him everywhere- and the alcohol is not helping one bit with that situation.

"Can you blame me for being a little cautious? Every time he sees me it looks like he wants to murder me."

Another laugh leaves my lips, this one longer than before.

"Don't worry, that's just his face."

Jaime shakes his head, his next few words slightly slurring out his mouth, "Not when he looks at you."

I freeze, all my attention now drawn to Jaime and this conversation.

"He doesn't look at anyone the way he looks at you."

"How would you know the way he looks at everyone? You've known him for a week." I counter, murmuring a thank you when the bartender places another double shot glass in front of me filled with clear liquid.

"I don't have to know the man longer than a week to know that he hates everyone but you."

"Hate is a strong word." I say a little too loudly over the loud thud of heavy music blaring out the overhead speakers.

I sit back on the bar stool so the counter digs into my lower spine, using it to help support my body upright. Grabbing the clear glass, I down the shot, the liquid scorching my throat as it travels down and I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing again and again to rid the pungent taste in my mouth.

"Relax," Jaime insists, taking the glass from my hands and setting it on the counter, "You're drunk. I'll get you water." He brings his hand back up and exchanges a few words with the bartender, ordering water for me instead of letting me indulge in another shot.

He's right. I am drunk. My head feels foggier from the booze in my system and my body is flushed with heat, skin humming from the atmosphere around me, and unintentional giggles keep escaping my mouth but it feels good to smile and lose control for a bit.

I pout when he hands me a glass cup filled with water and ice cubes with a black straw sticking out from it, and reach out and give him a little playful shove.

"You're no fun." I tease and he lets out a small breathy chuckle from the childlike tone in my voice.

In all honesty, I'm grateful he's reminding me about the importance of water while drinking alcohol. My throat thanks him as I take a few sips, the cold, crisp fluid already helping me come back down to earth.

I scan the crowd slowly, my eyes sweeping over the sweaty bodies and bare skin around me as they impulsively move towards the direction I know Mason is in. Jaime's lips are moving, but I don't hear any sound coming out from them while a shadow of movement captures my attention, searing a shockwave of fieriness within me, feeling as though someone is scraping a scorching hot finger along the bottom of my stomach.

Mason is sitting with his back against the booth behind him, legs parted slightly while his arms rest against the top of the cushion, lounging, eyes looking directly at the scantily- dressed blonde woman sitting beside him. She's leaning in a little too close for my liking, a sinful smile displayed on her lips as she whispers words into his ear, and a nauseous pit forms in my stomach when she brings an uninvited hand up to touch his shoulder with the tips of her fingertips.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I curl my fingers until both my hands are clenched fists.

"Who's that girl with Mason?" I blurt out, interrupting whatever Jaime was trying to say.

"Lola." I hear beside me, seeing Natalie now standing next Jaime and I, her gaze traveling to where mine is watching what's occurring right in front of my eyes.

I study Mason's face for any sign that he finds her attractive, or that he's interested in how she's not even trying to be discreet when she sidles up closer to him, brushing her bare leg against his. But I can't decipher any true meaning behind the look in his eyes, he's just watching her, his mouth clamped shut, corners of his lips not even lifting an inch while his gaze hardens on her, observing.

Natalie goes on, "I found her on the dance floor and she mentioned she's looking for a good fuck for the night. I told her I have a friend of mine who rated a man five stars, and pushed her in his direction."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, "You what?"
She shrugs, "Well she's not looking for anything besides dick, and since Mason will fuck anything with pussy and a big rack I figured why not?" She moves closer to me, "I heard he had a soft spot for blondes."

My chocolate brown hair feels heavier on my shoulders.

I can feel myself seething out from under my skin, and as I watch them ahead of me I do my best to act like I'm not shattering in pieces right now. He wouldn't go after someone like her would he? Or anyone at all? 

I heard he had a soft spot for blondes, the words are still echoing in my ear.

"Dance with me." A voice says, and I break my gaze to find Jaime now standing right in front of me. I wasn't even aware that Natalie had already walked away until I snapped back into focus, uncurling my fingers, my knuckles now as white as snow.

"What?" With the alcohol, Mason and the unwanted and unwelcome blonde I can barely think straight.

"Dance with me."

I sigh, "What happened to you worrying about your face getting bashed in?"

"Mason would have to be alive in order to bash my face in, and from the look on your face he won't be after tonight." He says to me, a small smile appearing on his face to lighten the mood as he extends his hand out to me. "Come on."

He's right about that.

Since Jaime discovering both Mason and I at the sex shop last week, I've been occasionally letting myself talk freely about our situation with him. It felt good to finally let someone in on what's been going on, someone who can share opinions and offer advice when needed. Which explains why he's mindful that getting my ass off this stool and dancing with the rest of the intoxicated strangers is exactly what I need right now.

I place my hand in his, letting him pull me into the edge of the crowd. The pounding, electric beat of the music stirs around us and I move my body to the music, my head falling, hand craning upwards to the back of my hair while I try to think about anything other than those manicured hands on Mason.

There's an occasional stumble in the heels I'm wearing, and I have to lean back into Jaime for support. He doesn't touch me in any way that would insinuate that there was a double meaning behind asking me out onto the dance floor. His hand is placed along my hip bone, only in an effort to keep me from falling on my ass as we both move together, laughter falling free from my lips despite the nausea coiling in my stomach.

"I'll take it from here."

I suck in a startled breath as both our bodies separate, Jaime shooting his eyes up over my head at the deep command. Mason's stern voice makes me whip my eyes to him, and he doesn't even give Jaime a moment to respond before he leans forward, grasping my hand and tugging me away from him.

His warm, calloused hand guides me through the sweaty clubgoers, looking like he might actually bash a man's face in for even looking in my direction as he escorts me up a sticky flight of stairs until we reach a small corridor and he's opening a door with a forceful shove and walking in, pulling me in behind him.

We're in a bathroom.

The walls are painted black and there's writing and drawings in different colored markers all over them, surrounding us. It smells like marijuana and sex but the only thing I focus on is the tension rippling off Mason's rigid muscles.

I groan, throwing my head back to look at the ceiling, "What do you want?"

"Did you enjoy that? Flirting, giggling, rubbing your ass all over Jaime knowing my eyes were on you the entire time?"

"On me?" I let out a bigger laugh, the alcohol in my system speaking for me before I even have the chance to hear what I'm saying. "It sure didn't seem like that a few moments ago. You're able to have women drool all over you but I'm not even allowed to dance with my friend?"

Mason's eyes catch mine, walking towards me as I continue to stand my ground, even when he stops with hardly a hand's breadth between us.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play games with me, Mason. I saw the woman who was whispering in your ear and touching you all over. God, could she have been anymore obvious?" I ask, trying like hell to not stutter over my words, and his chin raises in front of me as his eyes hold my gaze, swimming with an unreadable emotion. "She looked like she wanted to fuck."

"Yeah, well, I tend to have that effect on some people." The words are out before he can stop them and my mouth drops open, eyes widening at what he just said to me. His face scrunches together, a long sigh escaping his lips, "Fuck. That came out wrong-"

I cross my arms over my chest, "Oh really? You don't say? Well why don't I go out there and try to see if I have that same effect on some people." I make an effort to move out of his way but I stumble forward a little, and he grabs my wrists, pulling me forward into his chest.

"Don't you dare-"

I struggle in his grasp and he slowly relaxes his hand around my wrist, releasing me and I shove his chest, moving his body away from mine.

"Why are you even here anyways? To babysit me? I was supposed to be out with my friends and having a girls night, not to be watched by the fucking dance police." His nostrils twitch in annoyance, and I'm full on blaming the boiling, rushing alcohol I so carelessly drank for the tightening in my nipples.

I'm confused with him. Angry. Pissed. And slightly turned on over the fact that we're alone in a bathroom together and the idea of angry sex sounds promising.

"So you want to dance with him then?" He leans his face closer to me, eyebrows furrowing, lips pursed and the question throws angry sex out the window and confirms the angered emotions within me.

"Don't put words into my mouth."

"Don't let another man touch you."

"Or what?" I throw my arms up, my voice raising over the loud, pounding base surrounding us. "You'll break his hands?"

Slowly, he takes another step forward, hand searing into the material of my dress over my waist, leaning his face down to ghost his lips over mine and I turn my head away from him, refusing his touch. My peripheral vision shows the corners of his lips lifting from my response, and I wonder how someone can be so effortlessly irritating and tempting at the same time.

He lets out a dry chuckle, arching his face into the side of my neck, his recently grown stubble dragging over my skin. I sigh at the feeling, the pent up rage still right below the surface as his breath tickles my skin, goosebumps erupting along my bare arms. He tilts my head back firmly with his free hands fingers on my chin, forcing me to look up at him and I curl my fingers distractedly at my sides.

"Has anyone told you..." He whispers slowly against my mouth, "That you're such a fucking brat."

The sound of his voice trembles down my neck, over my breasts until they ache. Every inch of my body goes taut as his words echo through me.

Fuck me for almost moaning at his words. I really need to get myself together.

I tilt my head up, his bottom lip brushing my top one, "Seems you're rubbing off on me then."

A small smile tugs on the corner of his mouth.

His voice is a hoarse murmur as he rasps into my ear, "Don't test me, baby. Because you won't be the one that has to pay the price." I try to take a step back away from his grasp but he holds me even firmer, looking down at me from above, "Save me a dance."

Fury blooms inside me and I lift my arms and place my hands against his hard chest, pushing him away from me with all the strength I can muster. I know he could have gripped me even tighter if he wanted to, but he stumbles back a bit, a smile creeping on those lips of his.

"Oh, go fuck yourself." I say to him, walking out the bathroom door hearing his chuckles from behind me.

I go back down to where I previously was before Mason hauled my ass up the stairs, walking towards Jessica and Corey sitting beside the bar with drinks in hand. An idea pops into my head as I feel Mason's eyes burning into the back of my body, following my every movement.

Once I arrive at where Jessica and Corey are I tell her that about my dilemma, spilling little white lies that a man somewhere in the crowd won't leave me alone. You see, everytime an unwarranted man comes along who's ego denies any sense of rejection, Jess and I always play the part of a happy couple until they bug off.

When the words are out my mouth she turns around, coincidentally finding a man in the shadows glancing right at me, completely unaware that the man I'm referring to is actually a couple feet away from him looking in secret.

She slides one of her shot glasses over to me, nearly knocking it over in the process and drunkenly laughing over it. I watch her grab a pinch of salt between fingers, sprinkling it where her thumb meets her index finger on her opposite hand. She picks up the lime that's right in front of her, sticking it to the edge of her mouth to hold.

I don't need to turn my head in order to know Mason's watching. I know he is, I can feel it.

I take her hand in mine, dipping my head down with my tongue out, flattening it against her skin and taste the strong bitterness on my tastebuds. I pull away, taking the shot still on the counter and throw it back, trying to move as swiftly as possible to relieve the burn descending down my throat. I put the glass down, inching my face closer to Jessica's and part my lips to bite down onto the wedge with my teeth. I suck on the lime for a second, letting it ease the pain of downing yet another shot, and staying in place long enough for Mason to get the full show of it.

Our lips graze, juice dripping down onto our chins right as I release the grip of the wedge with my teeth, allowing it to fall onto the floor.

But we weren't done yet.

Right when I see the wedge is out of her mouth I lean in closer, not stopping until my lips are on hers. Her touch feels different, kisses feel different, they aren't the same as the possessiveness of Mason's hands and lips, and when she parts open her mouth a little wider for me, tongue brushing against mine I taste the evidence of alcohol in her system, feather light movements of controlled teasing contrasting the roughness I'm used to.

Our lips are disconnected once laughter comes out both our mouths, separating us in an instant. I glance over at Corey who's still sitting beside Jessica, mouth parted open in awe of what he just witnessed and I shake my head, more drunken giggles escaping my lips.

"Is he still looking?" Jessica asks me over the loud music and I nod, not needing to pull my eyes away to know the answer to that question.

As I walk away from the two of them, finding Mason staring at me with his eyes dark and unreadable, black, and sent intently on me, only me. I slow my pace down, making him wait for me to catch up to him and bring my thumb to my lips, quickly licking the tip and rubbing it against the corners of my mouth to rid the red lipstick Jessica was wearing.

He watches me, the music heavy, slower, sensual around us and I don't stop until his breath falls over my lips, until I'm close, so close and my hands are able to find Mason's shirt, bunching it in my fists as I look up at him, him towering over me.

"Do your worst." I whisper in his ear, a wicked little smile forming on my lips as I let the grip of him go and head back out onto the dance floor.

❀

I danced until my feet hurt.

Until a thick layer of sweat was coating my entire body and I could barely stand up straight. The drinks kept coming, and long story short, when Jessica pulled me aside and pointed at the stripper poles that were currently not being used it didn't take much for me to stumble onto the stage with her.

I was there all of about fifteen seconds before Mason walked on stage, threw Jessica and I over his shoulders and stormed out of the club.

He didn't look too happy, but neither was I, drinking did make me kind of bratty and he's not allowed to tell me what to do when he's not practicing what he preaches. The entire ride home I ignored his glares through the rearview mirror, and when I felt his hand try to grab my ankle again I wasted no time to step on it.

He grunted, and swore under his breath. I smiled.

Now, as I sit on the edge of Jessica's bed after she left to go take a shower, my dazed and fuzzy brain has to put in way more effort with the straps on my heels in order to take them off. A couple long minutes pass until they fall to the floor and I sigh in relief, standing from the bed to go place them in the corner and out of the way.

A yawn suprasses my lips as I stand back in an upright position, my heels now in the designated area and my head still throbbing from the effects of the deafening music I heard for hours on end. I see a pair of arms come around me, folding against my chest as I'm pushed back against the man of the hour.

"You still mad at me, baby?" He asks into my ear. I ignore him. "I see, I haven't apologized to you, yet. I'm sorry." His head dips into the empty space between my jawline and my shoulder, planting a single kiss on my skin, "Do you want me to never let another woman touch me? Because I'll do that. I'll avoid them like the plague if it'll get you to stop looking at me with those crazy eyes."

I shake out of his grasp, still not amused, "They're not that crazy."

"They're terrifying." My eyes look anywhere else but him and he takes notice, his hands latching onto mine, gently pulling me close to him before moving onto my hips. "So that's a yes to my question then?"

My face is level with his chest, but my jaw is tense and I still won't look up at him.

"What was she whispering to you?"

"Do you really want to know?"

He tightens his hold on me before I can move out of his grasp. "Tell me, Mason. Tell me something true."

There's a pause, a couple seconds of silence, no longer than five before he touches my chin, lifting my eyes to meet his and the feel of his skin on mine causes my jaw to grow even more tense. She was touching him, and he was letting her.

"Something true." He repeats slowly, the words rolling off his tongue. More seconds pass while he looks down at me, eyes softening, "While she was sitting beside me, she was practically begging for me to fuck her. She kept telling me she didn't want me to be gentle with her, that I could do whatever I'd like, that her body was mine for the night."

His words make me want to vomit.

"And I watched her, let her finish what she was going to say before I gave her my answer. Would you like to know what I told her?" Yes. "I told her that my girl is sitting at the bar, and if she sees her hands on me she isn't going to be too happy. Because..." His lips meet the spot just below my ear and I want to pull him closer and push him as far away as I can at the same time. "She has quite the temper."

I can hear the smile in his voice and I shake my head because I still don't know how to react.

"But that was the least of her problems," he continues, "because mine's worse. Then I told her that if she didn't get her hands off of me in the next three seconds I was going to make her regret ever wasting my time, and I would do so happily."

I try to contain it, but I can't. His words make me gasp, even if it's the smallest, faintest under-breath-gasp ever known to man, it's revealed and he notices. I open my mouth to speak, but he interrupts.

"I'm not finished. I could have taken her back here, maybe even there if I would have liked, and I would have known exactly what to do with my hands, my lips, my touch." I squirm in his grasp, "But the problem is, I want to do them all to you. All the women in the club and my eyes only wanted to look at you."

He moves his lips to my mouth and pulls me in for a soft kiss, barely touching his mouth to mine.

"Do you want to know what else is true?" Another soft kiss, "I think it's crazy you'd actually think I'd ever touch anyone else, fuck anyone else. How could I when you're the one occupying my mind constantly? Fuck, baby, I only think about you. I think about you all the time, so much you make it so fucking difficult to focus on anything else."

Another kiss, this time it lingers for one, two, three seconds.

"It'll always be you." He whispers.

I look up at him with blurry eyes, tears clouding my vision and I tense every muscle in my body to not let him see. There's a desire in his eyes, an urge that has nothing to do with wanting me, and everything to do with needing me. And maybe it's the alcohol, or the fact that it's taking longer than needed to extinguish the anger I've held on for most of the night, but before I can stop myself, my hands collide with his chest, pushing him off of me in a forceful motion.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" I ask, my voice raising slightly and he throws his head back, his laughter hitting the ceiling.

He walks back over to me like a magnet, holding me against him once more, his nose and lips dancing over mine.

"Because you're sexy when you're jealous."

I make an attempt to bury my head in his chest, and he places one hand around my waist, the other on the back of my head while he drops his chin to rest above it. My insides feel warm again from the smell of him, the touch of him, the feel of his arms wrapped around my body, the sensation is enough to make me feel protected from just about anything- makes me feel safe... home.

"You drive me crazy." I tell him, and it's the truth. This man makes me fucking crazy.

"As do you."

I pull away and then his lips meet mine and they're kissing me everywhere. It's rough, and hot and I hope it isn't loud enough for Jessica to hear in the shower but it but I'm inhaling him and getting so lost in all of it. His tongue brushes mine, teeth bite and nibble me and it drives me insane.

And then there's that voice. That drunken voice in the back of my mind not wanting to let him off so easily.

"You want me?" I ask him as he sinks his lips down to start kissing my neck. I move my head back more, granting him more access and the only thing that comes out as a reply from his lips is a small grunt, mouth too focused on attacking my skin. I reach my hand out, suppressing my moans as I palm the very evidence that he in fact does want me. Bad.

He sucks in a sharp breath as my hands have a feel for him over the fabric of his pants. He whispers out a couple profanities and I bite down a smile, strands of his hair grazing my cheek as he buries himself down further, biting down onto my skin.

"I can feel how bad you want me." I taunt him, and he grunts once more and I fist his shirt again, pressing him against me so that there's not a centimeter between us. Then I whisper, "Yeah, I seem to have that effect on some people."

He stills.

I smile.

Then I push him off, hard enough he falls down onto Jessica's bed right beside us. His back hits the mattress with an oomph, wide eyed and shocked. I turn around on my bare feet, making my way towards Jessica's bathroom door to get ready for bed, leaving him without another touch.

"Baby!" I hear him call out as I slam the door behind me, body engulfed in the clouds of thick smoke from the shower Jessica's partaking in a few feet away.

And then I hear his laughs. His most genuine, most pure laughs echoing through the room so loud it heard through the door.

 It's a beautiful sound.

 My favorite sound. 

❀❀❀

A.N.//

Ahhh guys this has got to be my longest chapter yet. Hope it's okay. Let me know if you enjoyed it :)

As always, don't forget to hit that little ☆ at the bottom and leave a comment.

How are you guys liking the story so far?

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Thank you for reading,

-yourunknownteen