cigarette ends | ✎

x.

I forced my heartbeat to steady. "Casen," I whispered, partly in warning, partly in... I don't know. All I knew was that this was a game. Another bet. Another test, and I was going to fucking ace it.

I willed myself to still underneath his touch. He pulled back, gazing at my body from on top of me. His eyes traced every inch of skin they could find until they landed on my eyes. "Your body... wie kann ich dir widerstehen?"

I had no clue what he said, and I didn't want to. Not by the way he was staring at me, like he could read my soul.

"Is German your go-to?" I forced a breathy chuckle. "That's cute. I bet you get the girls to fall to their knees with that line."

His answering smirk was enough to send a shiver racing down my spine. "I don't need my German to get girls to fall to their knees in front of me, Laurent."

"Cocky, much?" I put my hand on his chest and pushed him off me, then flipped him around so we were laying with his back on the bed, and I was straddling him. From my place on his lap, I tied my hair back into a ponytail and placed my hands on each side of his head.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, eyes dark and observing.

"Winning." I dragged my finger down his mouth, silencing him as I tugged gently on his lower lip. Then I let my hand wander, falling down his chest and to his painfully toned stomach. With the alcohol flooding my system, I let my fingers trace underneath the hem of his shirt. He shuddered underneath me.

I bit my lip to hide my smile, then brought my lips to his ear. "Ti influenzio. Ti influenzio e tu lo odi."

"Fuck. Du klingst so verdammt heiß, wenn du Italienisch sprichst," he groaned.

I had no clue what he said, but I felt something flutter inside of me at his tone. 

I let out a chuckle, kissing his pulse point. "In inglese per favore?"

He suddenly grabbed my waist, flipping us around again and laying me on my back. His eyes were dark as they continued to drink me in before he leaned down, his lips a centimeter away from mine.

"I said that you sound so fucking hot when you speak Italian." His voice was barely above a whisper and his breath fanned around my face.

The alcohol suddenly made my head spin – or was it because of his words?

It's just a bet. It's just a game. It's just another competition, I reminded myself.

"Yeah?" I responded, biting my lip. I watched from underneath him as he tracked the movement. Then I slowly traced my fingers lightly down his arm. I felt him flex beneath my touch – saw his features twist into pain.

"Mm," he hummed. "Italian is such a beautiful language, but I think it's those lips that do the trick."

"My lips?" I laughed softly.

He smirked. "Those lips and that tongue. Und die Dinge, die ich mit ihnen machen möchte."

"Is that so? 

His answering smile was breathtaking. God, why did it take alcohol for me to notice how gorgeous this man was?

He got off of me then, and some strange part of me was disappointed. He reached out his hand, as if expecting something.

I sat up, furrowing my eyebrows. "What?"

"I need my $20."

"Excuse me?" I pulled up the strings of my dress, just now noticing that they had fallen slightly off of my shoulders. "You should be paying me."