Stay Away from Pleasure

Chapter Seven

09:14AM

Watching people breathe is funny.

It's almost half past nine and I should really be getting ready to meet the mysterious male or female that has been texting me, but I can't seem to tear myself away from him. Everything is going so well, but there's still this baggage about Matt being a real prick.

He looks so ordinary while he's asleep. His chest rises and falls wonderfully and a nice rush of air comes out of his nose as it falls. I heard that people look their best whilst sleeping and I always thought it was a lie because I look like a potato when I'm asleep, but Matt looks like perfection. I have goosebumps.

Examining him carefully, I watch as his eyes flicker and open softly. In a flash, I'm suddenly swept with embarrassment and I try to act normal and turn away from him, but I'm pretty sure he caught me looking. Tenderly, he strokes my arm and holds me closer to him. This is the first time I've ever readily spent the night in a man's bed and it feels good.

During my peaceful rest, I had this strange feeling that I was floating, but that's probably because I was sleeping on his chest while he was asleep and taking those heavy breaths. Wasn't it? I hum softly and snuggle up to him s'more. Before I know it, I'm drifting back to sleep. He's the best pillow one can buy.

When I wake up again, he's looking at me and he doesn't bother looking away. His hair is damp as if he's just washed it and he's wearing a plain black T shirt. Showered and clean. But I cannot deny, I miss his bare chest.

He kisses my head, "Good morning, Lisette."

I groan into his chest, deprived of energy despite my long hours of rest. He laughs and I feel the deep chuckle reverberate through his body and mine.

"Not a morning person?" He asks.

I groan again and wrap my legs around his. I'm warm and comfortable in his arms. I don't want to move. I don't want either of us to move and break the contact between us.

"I don't care, really. We can stay in bed all day if you want." He kisses me again.

It suddenly hits me that that's not a possibility. "What's the time?" I groan.

"You don't need to know the time, it's your day off and I've got you all to myself." He squeezes me tighter to him.

Sitting up, I prepare to tread on his potential plans for our day.

"Actually, I have to go out today."

He sits up beside me and puts his hand on my hip, locking and trapping me.

"And do what?" He asks coldly.

I wouldn't particularly call the chill running down my spine fear but I instantly dread the idea of disappointing this man... This specimen. The burning of the lime in his eyes is enough to make me squirm in his firm grip. I can almost say I'm completely entranced, trapped even. In all my life, maintaining eye contact has always been like a little game for me — a game I'd always win — but for some reason, as his eyes lock onto mine, I feel like I'm melting. It's still a game for me... Just a game I'll always lose.

It appears I can't tell him the truth about where I'm going, but I also can't lie. Maybe it's because lying is wrong, but it could also be the sinister gleam of green in his eyes.

"I'm going to meet my sister." Not the whole truth, but also not a lie.

He looks at me for a moment and then speaks up. "I'll come with you."

Um...

Shrivelling up, I shuffle in my position, "I don't think that's a good idea—"

"Why not?" I had barely finished my statement. He's pissed, but why?