Zera

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Soft music blasted from Gerard's car speakers as he navigated through the late evening traffic. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the road.

The evening had crept upon us, and an hour had passed since we hit the road.

"You said it's close," I muttered, frustration bubbling within me.

My backpack lay across my lap, a futile attempt to conceal my embarrassingly short uniform skirt. It had never bothered me before; I always loved short clothing for its comfort.

But sitting beside him now, enveloped in his citrusy scent, memories of last night flood my mind. Gerard's occasional glances at my thigh, the tightening of his jaw, and the firm grip on the steering wheel only added to my discomfort.

"I never mentioned it," his voice replied, accompanied by a flicker of his gaze towards my fidgeting with my backpack.

"But you promised to drop me off before dark, and it's already past 5 PM," I shot him a glance, my eyes tracing the straight line of his jaw.

They appear so fucking straight and sharp. Too perfect.

"I never promised you anything, Zera, so just calm the fuck down, okay?" he groaned, making a sharp turn onto another road.

My gaze followed the movement of his lips as he spoke, and an inexplicable urge to touch them washed over me. They had felt surprisingly soft for a man's lips when I traced them last night, and now I found myself yearning to feel them against mine again, to feel them inside me.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to look straight ahead.

"Where's your bracelet?" he shot me another quick glance.

I swiftly rummaged through my backpack to retrieve it, but halfway through, I froze, my hands still buried inside the bag.

Your bracelet?

Shaking my head slightly, I assumed he must have made a mistake and continued retrieving the bracelet from my bag.

"I didn't slip in what I just said. I made it for you," Gerard stated, as if he could read my thoughts. "So put it on. For me."

Without questioning him, I obediently slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, grumbling under my breath, "You could have engraved my name instead of a threat."

His car came to a halt, and he turned to look at me directly. "Threat? I was merely advising anyone who would think of meddling with you that you're already taken, and you belong to me," he continued.

I scoffed. "One might think we just registered our marriage or something." I retorted sarcastically.

"I'm up for that," he stated nonchalantly, his eyes meeting mine. I quickly looked away, feeling flustered, and unbuckled my seat belt, rushing out of his car.

A grand building, seemingly aged by centuries yet retaining its allure, loomed before me.

The evening breeze gently tousled my hair, prompting me to tuck a loose strand behind my ear.

Gerard appeared by my side, and I glanced up at him. "You could have taken me to a smaller gallery. I doubt the security will allow us to..." My words faded as he began to walk ahead, paying no heed to my protest.

A frustrated hiss escaped my lips as I hurried to catch up with him.

Silence enveloped the surroundings as we ascended toward the grand entrance and entered the building. There was no security in sight, not a single soul to be seen.

"It's closed," Gerard muttered ahead of me. The opulent decor inside made my stomach churn, every detail screaming of wealth.

"It's a gallery, Zera. What did you expect?" a voice chastised me in my mind, silencing my thoughts.

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