HIM

c h a p t e r 45: Bunjee Jumping

Beverly

I used to think food would be the death of me, then Jackson came around and I thought it was gonna be him...but no, it might be Zayyad. It might be this six-foot-four-inches man. If we were in Ancient Greek, he'd be a god, the one that had gold flowing as their blood, and I'm pretty sure I'll be a servant in his palace that would probably be built in the clouds.

Yes, I'm hurt but I can't even drag this because he did it when I didn't even know him like that, he didn't deliberately do it, I understand that and I can't even be mad at him, not because he has a way of making my senses fly out the window when he talks and look at me, or because he makes my knees go weak when he touches me in ways only him knows how to, but because his eyes screamed truth when he spoke to me... but, then... I wonder, can he tell the truth all the time?

After my bath, I'd calmed the heck down. I don't know what he put in that water or how he set the temperature right, but whatever it was, it gave me mental therapy. I had used his lotion, and I smell of him, jeez.

I can't stop smiling when I emerge from the bathroom clothed in a pair of new pyjamas he had handed me. They're quite oversized but it doesn't bother me, I like how the sleeves cover even the tips of my fingers.

"Sarauniya ta!" He excitedly says.

"What does that mean?" I ask as I make my way over to him.

"It means 'my queen'. You look cute,"

"Thank you, I thought I looked funny when I saw myself in the mirror," I say when I climb into bed.

"No, you look extremely cute. Don't you wanna take off the trousers? They're too long,"

"Would love to because the shirt is like a gown already but I can't, I'm not wearing any panties, I left them in the dryer to dry, and wet panties can cause infection, I don't want that, so I'm stuck with your overflowing PJs,"

He chuckles, "They'll be dry before tomorrow,"

"I know, don't talk about my panties, it's weird. I really need my clothes and I— Ou, what do we have here?" I look over at the bars of chocolates, popcorn and two bowls of mint and chocolate flavoured ice cream on the other side of the bed, which just stole my attention. "Zayyad, bring them over,"

"You're acting like my niece," He chortles, bringing the things in my reach.

"That's because I'm a baby. My sweet tooth is on another level. What movie are we watching?"

"It's gonna be a surprise,"

"I like surprises." I get comfortable on the bed and we start to watch the movie. Him feeding me popcorn whilst we make side comments on the movie and me feeding him back—I told him we looked like couples from the 90s and he said he liked it.

About twenty minutes pass and I don't know how we go from feeding each other popcorn as we watch the movie...to being all knotted up and sucking the air out of each other's lungs as we kiss.

"Shit, Zayyad," I softly say when one of his hands clutches on my waist, pulling me closer to his body like I'm not close enough, his other hand softly grabbing the nape of my neck, and honestly I can stay like this forever.

Somehow, we make a transition, his back, on the bed, and me on top of him, settling on his crotch. I like how his eyes are staring dangerously at me, and how his hands feel my breast down to my waist, before finally grabbing a handful of my ass in a way that sets fire to my insides...I am three seconds close to talking off the shirt of my oversized pyjamas but I have no bra underneath and I can't be all bare to him, I need to keep my self-control in check. Can't trust this man, yet.