𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐓 | 𝟏𝟖+

13 | tease me

I know that no one is home because I heard the door close hours ago and not a single sound since. With my freshly made smoothie I head to the living room and curl up in a ball, smothering myself in blankets and I put on a movie.

I'm not really fussed with the movie, I just want time to move quickly.

Oh the things I would do to jump on a plane and head to Spain or Portugal and live out my life in the sun. New life, new friends, new experiences. A part of me thinks why I didn't follow the same path as everyone else in my life, I could be lethal.

My father always said I could be a good weapon, whatever the fuck that means.

But another part of me wants to not have to keep looking over my shoulder every five seconds because being a gang leader or vigilante or any person involved in organised crime never has a time to stop and relax. They don't know such a word.

The front door cracks open and I turn to see who it is, curiosity getting the better of me.

I should have known better. Far better.

Lonzo strolls into the house, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his jacket slung over one arm. Even his dark hair is a mess, tousled even. I've never seen him look so... so unsettled. Usually he looks pristine, despite what's going on in his life and empire.

He slams the door shut and I flinch from the sound. His eyes fly to mine as he watches me across the hall on the sofa. For a split second he roams them down my bare legs before clenching his jaw and strolling further into the house so I can no longer see him.

I roll my eyes and catapult myself back into the soft pillows.

When the movie is over I head upstairs and climb into the shower. Taking my time with washing my hair and then washing it again, leaving in a mask for ten minutes whilst I exfoliate my body and shave parts of me that I shouldn't bother to shave but I'm far too bored to care.

I step out of the shower and wrap myself up in a towel and quickly dry my hair with the spare towel, finally letting my strands drip down my back. My hand presses to the door handle and I emerge from the en-suite into my bedroom.

My eyes almost deceive me when I find Lonzo sitting on the edge of my bed, his sleek black handgun between his fingers. My fingers grip onto my towel as I back into the wall, staring at him with confusion.

"What are yo–"

He stands from the bed, stretching out his tall frame. I've always known how much taller he is than me but at this moment in time, I feel like the size of a peanut, especially with that deathly glare in his eyes.

And why the fuck is he holding his gun?

Lonzo stalks towards me and cages me between the wall, his eyes as dark as onyx as he stares me down. Tight jaw. Heavy chest. Narrowed eyes.

"Are you pleased with your little performance?"

My face scrunches up at his words. "What?"

He takes my throat by his hand and pins me to the wall with force. I can hear my heart pound in my neck, against his fingers and I know he can feel it too. I told him once that he doesn't scare me but right now my body is betraying me.

"Last night," he snarls. "Did you do that on purpose to get some kind of reaction?"

My eyes widen in utter shock. Last night? He's caught up on last night.

I can't help but laugh desperately at his aggressive words. "Are you that obnoxious?" I straighten my spine and stare him directly in the eye. Those sinful eyes. "Oh wait, I should have guessed. You think that the world revolves around you."