Micah pulls his car up on the side of the road beside my dorm building. I stay in the car, I don't want to get out - I don't know the next time I'll see him. He never answers my calls, he rarely talks to me when we are around each other anyone.
He touches my thigh gently with a sigh, I put my hand over his touching his crackled knuckles. I wonder what he does in his spare time when I'm not with him, his hands are always bruised. I mean I know what he does.
But you also don't, Rose. Why do you trust him?
I trace the tattoo in the top of his hand, "I guess I should go, right?"
"You should," he grins squeezing my thigh, "but you aren't."
"You're intoxicating, I can never seem to have enough of you and your bad habits."
I kiss Micah's cheek. I told him I needed to get back to my dorm, my parents are the type to arrive unexpectedly but now I just want to spend time with this man in what I really shouldn't be. Lucky, Micah always wakes early in the morning, enough time for me to get ready before my family pick me up for church which we organised last night.
Micah takes my hand gently kissing it, "I'd love if you did but I'm busy."
"You seem to always be," I frown.
He sighs holding my chin gently kissing my cheek over the dashboard, "where I go isn't for pretty girls like you."
"Well," I look at him, "you'd protect me if I was with you, wouldn't you?"
He smirks, "I'm not taking you, Rose. If that's the suggestion you're trying to make."
"Why?" I ask.
"It isn't fun and games, Rosalie, you'd hate what you see."
"I wanna know more about you."
"What I do," he corrects my words. "You know enough about me, you want to know what I do."
I stare at him. How can he always know everything I think and want whereas he just wears the same old emotionless face, despite how attractive it is he doesn't give me anything but that. He stares straight ahead, out the window. I take in his more than attractive appearance, the way his tattoos creep up his neck and his jaw cuts off at a perfect angle. How did I end up with a man like this?
I lean over the dashboard kissing his cheek, I let my lips linger on his skin. I pull back starring at him, his eyes are closed, "don't stop, Rose," his dark voice interrupts the silence that fills the car. I let my lips touch his neck, his cheek, his jaw.
"Come here," he keeps his eyes closed.
"What?" I squeak.
Micah grins opening his eyes and looking at me, "sit on my lap, darling."
"Micah."
"Rose," he growls grabbing my waist. "Now."
With the slightest bit of my help he pulls me over the seat, my legs on either side of his. "Relax," he touches my waist, "you're so tense, I hate it."
"You make me nervous," I whisper.
Micah grins kissing my neck, his lips are hot and rough against my neck but I love it, everything he does I love, the way he touches me and the way he talks so formally yet so demanding. I know I'm playing with the devil here, a man who I shouldn't trust, his disguised as a man who knows how to make me feel so many feelings at once. Good and bad. I don't know how he does it.
