cigarette ends | ✎

x.

I curled my head against his chest, oddly comfortable at our proximity. I told myself it was just the alcohol.

Once we were in our hotel room, he set me on the bed rather gently. Instead of laying down, though, I sat up and watched him with lidded eyes. His smirk did something to my brain.

"You don't know how to flirt, do you, Laurent?" His laugh was deep. I felt it through my entire body.

"What?" I scrunched my nose, confused at the sudden and out-of-place comment. "I have no idea what you're taking about."

He laughed again - this time, louder. "I saw you with the bartender. You're trying, I'll give you credit, but stick to the textbooks. At least then, you know what you're doing."

Fury coursed through me, all previous kindness forgotten. "Oh, fuck off. Like you know any better than me."

He paused, and then he was suddenly right in front of me. I looked up at him from where I was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You willing to bet, Laurent?"

My eyes narrowed. "That's all you know how to do, isn't it? Bet this, bet that. Do you just gamble your life away?"

He smirked, his eyes a dark blue. Gray rimmed his pupils, and it reminded me of a brewing storm. "Someone's scared of losing."

"I'm not scared." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he tracked the moment. "I'm not scared, because I'm not going to lose. Does 20 dollars sound good to you?"

"Fine." He stood back, raising a brow. "You go first. Show me how it's done, if you're so confident."

I ground my teeth together, but I stood. He looked down at me, and I smiled.

I placed my hand on his chest, spreading my fingers. I could feel his heart pick up pace, and my smile grew.

I stood on my tiptoes, my lips brushing his ear. I felt him shiver against me. "Are you nervous, Casen?" I let my mouth travel down his neck until I pulled back, awaiting his answer.

His smirk was strained. "Never."

I bit my lip, but I was still grinning. I picked up his hand and placed my fingers on his radial artery on his wrist and counted, then calculated. 100 beats per minute. His resting heart rate should've been around 60or 70.

This time, I didn't hide my amusement. "Your pulse says differently." I kept my eyes on him as I placed my lips on his wrist, watching his eyes darken. I trailed my way up to his face, to the corner of his lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my face centimeters from his. The alcohol was getting to my head, and I loved it.

"You look so sexy in this outfit, you know that?" I chuckled as I tugged on the collar of his white shirt, tracing down until I got to the button. I kept my eyes glued to his as I unbuttoned the first one, then the second, then the third before letting it drop.

"Laurent..."

"Yes?" I muttered, but I was busy letting my hands wander lazily around his chest and stomach, surprised that he worked out so much and wondering where he had the time.

But he pushed me back. "You're just proving my point more. You're absolutely dreadful at this."

I crossed my arms. "Fine. Then show me how you would do it better."

This time, he looked straight at me. He pushed me onto the bed and I got onto my elbows, tilting my head confusedly at him.

He crawled on top of me, lips near my neck. He kissed my pulse point. "This mouth." He looked down at me. "But fuck, look at you." Another kiss, gentler. "You're killing me, Laurent."