Maven and Adrianna were like the sun and the moon. Their paths were meant to cross but not to sync eternally.
Both from prominent wealthy families separated by hatred and vendetta, they ought to never see an eye to eye. But fate has a funny way to l...
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One night stand isn't as glamorous as it seems on television or in most love stories at that.
I hate how they romanticized one night stand like it's their holy grail. There is nothing romantic in one night stand. I'd like to call it as a momentary lapse of reason.
And what's worse than one night stand is the hangover that comes along with it.
Pain. Throbbing, dizzying, devastating pain. It pounded through my temples like hordes of demons were riding their flaming beasts through my head.
I repeat, one night stand isn't glamorous
Case in point what I've been doing right now –Rising, still nude, crawling my way out of this bed while trying to find my under things somewhere in this carpeted floor.
I don't normally do this. I swear, the only mistake I probably did in my twenty two years of existence—is this
Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating that part because that delicious burn between my thighs would like to say otherwise.
I found my bra hanging by black lamp stand, the same lamp that got knocked down when we were going down dirty on each other.
Staring glumly at the bed, I contemplated my next move, I froze when I heard a groan coming from the bed and then followed by a subtle shift of the comforter.
I looked up and found that the stranger moved and now the comforter was lying dangerously low in his hips. It took everything in me not to reach over and trace each line on his body, just like I did that night which brought me back to the ordeal of what really happened.
. . . .
I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the sudden harshness of the light. I didn't want to let go of his hand and simply held it until he gently pulled away and led me out of the car and over the lobby of the hotel straight to the lift.
We started kissing each other ardently but quickly broke apart.. breathless when it came to a halt.
Feeling naughty, when his attention was back on his phone, I sprinted away from him and quickly made my way to an almost empty corridor. And just when I was about look back, he was already behind me. I squealed when he tackled me and lifted me up like a sack.
When he had enough of my kicking and wailing, he put me down, only to press himself as we reached the door. I can feel the burning desire in me turning a little darker when I see him bit down on his lower lip.
Moving his right arm up, he took my face and leaned for a kiss, lightly at first, then deeper. Much deeper... His tongue parted my lips slipping inside my mouth.
I leaned heavily, my back was to the hotel room's door as he poked the key but -- for some drunk reason-- he was failing miserably. That made me giggle at his frustration. Everything was somehow funny to me.
