cigarette ends | ✎

viii.

I fought the urge to smile. "We'll see."

"We'll see? Fuck no. I never want to lay my eyes on the smallest part of your body, thank you very much."

"Whatever you say."

She stubbornly crossed her arms, releasing a huff of a breath. "I'm right, and you know it."

"I would recommend keeping mentions of my dick out of your mouth." I smirked. "Unless you plan to do something else with that tongue of yours..."

"You're gross."

I just laughed.

"You know, sometimes I wonder if there's anything else going on in that empty head of yours other than sex," she said.

"Of course I think about other things," I shot back. "For example, there's always foreplay-"

"Shut up," she interrupted immediately, bringing her hands to her face, covering her eyes in disappointment. I couldn't contain my laughter at her expression.

"Of course, that's how you would respond," she muttered once she took her hands off her face and managed to meet my eyes. "How could I have expected a serious answer?"

I let out a breathy chuckle, but I let my eyes drag over her body. "Do you know what else I think about, Laurent?" I asked her, voice low.

She looked up at me through those lashes, her back pressed against the guard rail of the plane exhibit behind us. "What?" she asked, despite herself.

My smile was dark as I brought my lips to her ear. "Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if we didn't keep our hands to ourselves at night. I wonder what you would do if I ripped that thin T-shirt off – I wonder what I would find underneath." I let my voice drop an octave, let it become breathy as I whispered, "Sometimes, Laurent, I wonder if underneath those cunning retorts, underneath those insults by that sharp tongue... I wonder if your body craves mine as much as I crave you."

I felt her chest move in rhythm with mine, watched as her eyes flicked to my mouth. "My tongue seems to take up a large portion of your thoughts, Casen," she breathed.

"You have no idea," I groaned.

"Am I interrupting something?"

We both backed away from each other quickly and glanced at Lacey, who rose her brow at us.

"No," I responded, straightening my shirt and walking toward her. "It's about time to go to the next museum, yeah?"

I watched Lacey's eyes drift behind me, but I didn't risk a glance toward Emilia's direction. Instead, I kept walking past Lacey and toward the main lobby, finding the others.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Jesus, I needed to get a grip on myself. She probably thought I was fucking insane.

But god, she would've been right. What was I doing? What am I doing?

✦✧✦✧

By the time we got back to the hotel, it was already 5pm. I couldn't even bear to look at her, dammit. 

After she ate a fucking salad for dinner, we were getting ready for bed – silently, I might add.

I folded my shirts into my suitcase, which was sorted by type of clothing. I lined my shoes up against the wall and double-checked the closet for my suits, if only to waste time.

I was in bed by the time she slid out of the bathroom, eyes on everything except me. But my eyes... shit. I couldn't keep them off of her, and it was infuriating.