Song: Shakira ft Maluma - Cantaje (slowed)
𝔚𝔚𝔚
Nico
This shit sucked.
It really fucking sucked.
First it was the weird pressure in my chest, the type that sparked a surge of self loathing, then there was the shit I couldn't explain.
It wasn't pity, disgust or even empathy. It was worse, much, much worse.
It was contrite.
"A very sorry or guilty feeling about something bad you have done."
Yeah, I fucking googled that shit to finally put a name to the emotion I'd been feeling.
The feeling was practically an illness, a disease. One I hadn't caught since I'd escaped and come to America, only to learn of mamá's death.
It was the first time I'd ever been plagued by the illness and what I'd now learned was called contrite or guilt.
Only back then, I'd had an - arguably healthy, way of dealing with it.
I'd constructed a little black book with the names of every person who'd ever wronged mamá and I. And I grieved her death in the only way I knew how to. By hunting down every name on that list.
I'd make their deaths painful, I'd show no mercy. And I'd enjoy the euphoria that came in the moments of silence after the kill. I still had a long list of names to get through, but each kill brought me one step closer to paradise.
Now, though, I didn't know how to fix the situation I'd gotten myself into.
Killing wouldn't make things better, Bambi didn't strike me as the violent vengeful type. She was stubborn as hell and far too emotionally driven.
It was funny how things worked. Our mere beings contradicted, She was far too in tune with her emotions and I was far too disconnected. A good man would do the right thing, but I was far too selfish.
Bambi was stuck with me, even if she didn't know it yet.
Glass cracks under the soles of my shoes as I step through what's left of the building before me. The smell of burned tar fills my senses as I take in what's left of my warehouse full of product.
Gun shipments from both the Italians and the Egyptians, Ammo from the Colombians and three million worth of clean bills, all gone. The only thing of value that wasn't kept in the warehouse were my narcotics, I produced and distributed that shit locally.
"Who'd be dumb enough to pull this shit here?" I hear one of the clean up guys mutter from somewhere behind me. We were in upstate New York, a fucking ghost town. The nearest form of human life was an old gas station 20 miles down the road, his question was valid.
I feel Sammy's weary gaze directed at the side of my head but I squat down and inspect the bits and pieces of metal covered in gun powder. "Wasn't Danny's specialty arson?"
"Mhm." I hum, straightening out to my full height and glancing towards the forest that surrounds the perimeter of the property.
Danny was a sadistic motherfucker when he wanted to be and arson was his signature.
But I'd be lying if I said I understood him. I didn't
Things were going good, I was flying through my little black book and he was managing everything for Rosso. Business was booming, he was making good money. We were a good team, but somewhere along the line he'd changed and wanted out.
Yet he knew the only way out for someone who knew of Rosso was death.
Sammy begins to speak, but I've already tuned him out and headed towards the forest. Aiming the flashlight in my hand at the trees along the outside of the forest.
He'd gotten someone to bypassed the security system and hijack all the cameras, but hunters came through here often. One of them was bound to leave a thermal imaging camera around here somewhere, the ones people used to spy on animals.
It isn't long before I find what I'm looking for taped to a branch, covered in mud. The light's still flashing and it was pointed in the general direction of the warehouse.
Walking back towards Sammy and my men, I hand him the camera and tell him to figure out what he can from it, while I wipe the dirt from my fingers onto the sleeve of his suit.
"Where are you going?" He calls from behind me as I turn and walk towards my car.
I don't spare him a glance because I'm too busy staring down at my phone that's showing me a live feed of where Bambi's phone is headed and it's only when I realize where she's going that I respond to Sammy.
"To the club."
. . .
The whole Rico ploy had backfired.
I'd watched the look on her face as she crumbled in the elevator and I had to physically hold myself back from reaching into my waistband, grabbing my glock and blowing his brains out for putting that look on her face.
It was easier to pin the blame on him, but it was hard to forget that it all came back to me.
I wasn't particularly one to dwell on the past, but I really fucking regret the Rico ploy.
He'd went against my wishes but worst of all, he'd touched her, kissed her, marked her like she was nothing but an object to earn himself an ounce of power against me.
Maybe he did like her, Josie Dumont was your classic All American sweetheart. Polite, kind, considerate and nice to look at. But Spencer liked the security she gave him more.
And he was strategic in that sense because I was willing to spare his life and it was all because she'd said please.
But sight of the hickey on her neck and knowing that he was the one that gave it to her? He was a dead man. And the mere thought of it drove me feral.
But this? This was worse.
She'd broke down in my arms a few hours ago, then left me standing in the foyer, with nothing but a soft apology for soaking my shirt.
But now? Now she was in the middle of the dance floor, throwing her head back and moving her hips without a care in the world. While I stood at the bar, suppressing the urge to slit the throat of every man looking her way.
I'll admit the urge was a little extreme, even for me.
But it got harder to control the more I looked at her in nothing but a skimpy little black skirt and a thin black tank top. But it was the dancing that was what threw me off the ledge. Her movements weren't over exaggerated, they simply drew your attention to every dip and curve on her body.
I throw back a glass of liquor, and order another one.
The flashing lights dim down to a soft red hue as the music winds down to a sensual beat and I keep my eyes trained on her silhouette as she dances so effortlessly.
I wanted to keep her all to myself.
Jesus, was this what jealously felt like?
A burning pit of rage that made my mind spark with irrational thoughts I couldn't control?
Everything about her was mine whether she liked it or not.
No one else was allowed to look at her like this.
She was for my eyes only.
Josie
Sweat trickles down my back, the air around me smells of my own perfume mixed with that of the pretty girls around me, but I'm too lost in the music to care about anything else.
It was nice, I didn't feel alone, not with all these people around and the one Shirley temple I allowed myself to have was making me feel lighter.
Coming here was irresponsible, dancing in front of all these people was something I wouldn't ever do but I was desperate to forget, and this seemed like the easiest option.
So here I was, dancing to a song I didn't know the lyrics too and having a good time while doing it.
I wasn't a dancer, but I was an avid people watcher and after eyeing the girls on the floor dancing for the first hour of my arrival, I'd been able to imitate their movements and get the hang of it for myself.
The ignorance of my surroundings soon fades as the song changes and awareness prickles the dampening skin of my neck. My gaze lifts, naturally trailing up and beyond the crowd towards the people sat along the bar, my eyes instantly seeking out those familiar grey ones.
Surprise washes over me, and the feeling is enough to make me stagger and stumble a step, only for an arm to snake around my waist from behind and steady me.
I don't look behind me, nor do I thank the stranger who still has yet to step away from me because I'm too busy staring at Nico standing across the room.
He's leaned back against the bar, his posture relaxed but the more I look at him, the more I can tell that's not the case.
He's got a hand wrapped around a cold glass of whiskey, and I watch as he leisurely brings the glass to his lips and throws his head back, downing the entire thing while blatantly staring at me.
His ringed fingers flex against the glass and it's only when he slams it down onto the bar, that he drags his eyes past my shoulder, the heat in his gaze darkening to something more dangerous.
With a nervous chuckle, I turn my head to the stranger, my fears of it being a man confirmed when I catch sight of his blonde hair. "Thanks." I say, stepping out of his hold and turning back around to Nico, only to see nothing but his disregarded glass on the bar.
I come to a stop on the dance floor as my heart hammers in my chest and my pulse races.
Mírame.
(Look at me)
The words echo from the beginning of the next song and I move my head from side to side, but he's gone. Disappeared.
Mírame.
And for some reason, that scares me.
I wasn't doing anything wrong, but it felt as though I'd just been caught red handed.
My skin tingles while I feel eyes on me. His eyes. Up the length of my body, my thighs, my hips, my ass, yet the man himself is no where to be seen.
But then, I feel him.
My breath catches as I feel a presence behind me. Even in the mass of sweat, perfume and alcohol, I could smell him. The smoke lingering on his clothes, the cologne on his skin, the mix of mint and alcohol from his breath, as it fanned across my ear.
"Don't stop dancing on my account." A smooth low voice speaks in my ear while two strong hands travel to my hips, his fingers running along the exposed skin above the waistband of my skirt.
I swallow thickly. "Go away." I breathe, hating myself for how desperate I sound.
He chuckles before his hands tighten on my hips and he pulls my body back so that my backside is flush to his front, "You don't really mean that, do you?" He murmurs in my ear, while his hands guide my hips along his to the tempo of the music and goosebumps breakout all along my skin.
Nicos thumbs coast over the goosebumps, before his hands slide up my body and he grips my wrists in each of his hands, lifting them over my head and wrapping them around his neck, "Baila conmigo." (Spanish| dance with me)
He's not asking, not with the way his hands have already started to run down the sides of my body back to my hips as he moves us to the beat.
He's already taking what he wants from me.
"No." I say, my fingers brushing the soft hair at the back of his head.
I was very capable of stepping away from him, leaving him here and walking away like he'd done to me. But in all honestly, I hadn't worked up the courage to step away from him yet.
His body was strong, hard, his rough hands felt so good on my hips, and the beat of the sensual music was too compelling.
I feel him smile against my skin when he dips his head and hovers his lips over my ear. I was saying one thing but with the way my back wash slightly arched and my hands were locked around his neck on their own, I was doing another.
He doesn't say anything, though. He simply moves my hips to the music with ease and I hate that he's so good at everything.
His soft hair brushes against the skin below my ear and it isn't until he buries his head into the side of my neck and exhales heavily, that I realize I've absentminded started moving my hips to the music on my own. "Who taught you to move like this, huh?"
The low rasp of his voice has my legs threatening to give out but I don't give him the satisfaction of falling into his trap. "It's nothing special." I dismiss.
He hums, his chest rumbling against my back as one of his hands slides forward from my hip to rest on my lower stomach."Do you see them?" He murmurs in my ear.
"What?" I say distractedly, my eyes fluttering shut as the rough pads of his fingertips brush the exposed skin of my midriff before he slips his hand under the hem of my shirt. I feel him lift his head to look ahead of us.
"All those eyes." His palm slides beneath my tank top, and I lean back into him while his other hand comes up and he lifts my chin, tilting my head forward.
I stare ahead of us and see nothing but a room full of people, some dancing like how Nico and I were now.
"You see all those men looking at you?" He hums, nodding towards the bar. My brows furrow and I frown, it was ridiculous to think that they were looking at just me.
The dance floor was filled with beautiful people, I was only one amongst a wide array of people the men at the bar were glossing their eyes over.
Only Nico doesn't seem to think so. His palm slides up my bare stomach and he uses it to push my body impossibly closer to his, while we continue to dance to the music.
"They're watching you move against me." He turns his head and his lips skim up and down the column of my neck, while his words reek with anger and possession. "Wishing they were in my place, to get their hands on you." Slowly, his hand coasts up even higher beneath my shirt.
I swallow thickly, letting out a shaky breath when his fingers skim the underside of the bare skin below my breasts.
There was no way I could wear a bra with a top like this, and he seems to realize that I'm not wearing one when his fingers still for a moment before his voice darkens. "You know how many of them are probably staring right though this flimsy little top?"
Our bodies are practically molded together, and a soft gasp escapes under my breath when he harshly cups the underside of my left breast in his hand, hips teeth nipping at my earlobe. "Do you know how fucking angry that makes me?" He asks suddenly, squeezing on my breast, hard.
"Nico..." I warn, my voice strained as he tightens his hold. I cast a glance at the other groups of people dancing just as sensually and lost in their own words, but I can't help the embarrassment of being in public. "What are you doing?" The last syllable escapes in a whimper when his rough palm moves high enough to cover my entire breast and his thumb ventures to my already hardened nipple.
He skimps over it with his thumb, once, twice and my hands begin to fist the hair at the back of his head. "You like that, don't you?" He spits, his thumb pressing down onto my nipple, the pressure so hard as if he's trying to push it back down so that it's not visible through my shirt.
"Nico." I breathe, but he's too lost in his fit of dominance and what I can only describe as jealousy.
"Tell me, Bambi, which part is turning you on this much?" I throw my head back into his chest as his husky voice fills my ears and his free hand - the one not in my shirt- moves back down to grip my hip.
"Stop it." I moan out, this wasn't the time nor place for his filthy words. But deep down, I knew he wouldn't listen to stop. No, Nico only listened to one word and that was my safe word.
Something I was too needy to mutter.
"The making me mad part?" He continues in my ear, his voice hard, his breathing heavy. "Or the part where you have all these pervs coming in their pants while they watch you grind your ass into my dick?"
I open my mouth to respond, but his fingers pinch my nipple, it's like he's punishing me and the surge of pain sends heat straight to my core.
I hiss out in pain and he takes the opportunity to latch his lips onto the skin of my neck and his thumb beginning to rubs at the sore skin of my nipple, smoothing out the sting and I can't help but moan softly at the contact.
I was letting him play with me like I was nothing but an instrument in his hands.
Instinctively my back arches, my ass pushes into the hardness beneath his slacks and a light grunt sounds from him. Yet we both still manage to continue moving to the music.
"The next time I have you like this," He spits, unlatching his lips from my neck, theres a rough edge to his voice and his thumb moves to circle the skin around my nipple, purposely avoiding where I want him most. "We won't be in front of an audience where I have to hold myself back."
A surge of anger coated in frustration ignites inside me and I can't tell if it's because of the way he's teasing me or the fact that I was forgetting that I was still mad at him. "There won't be a next time." I breathe out, forcing the arousal out of my voice.
He chuckles darkly, his thumb continuing to touch me everywhere but my nipple and I grit my teeth at the smug tone in his stupid voice. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes, I still don't like you." I spit as he circles his hips and uses his free hand to fiddle with the waistband of my skirt.
Lips skim the shell of my ear, and his palm moves to cover my other breast, squeezing hard. "So if I were to dip my hand under this little fucking skirt, you're telling me your inner thighs won't be soaked for me?"
Breathing heavily, I clench my jaw and try to discreetly clench my thighs closer together to alleviate the pressure. But before I can, one of his legs shoots between mine from behind.
"Ah, ah, ah. I asked you a question, Bambi." He tsks in my ear. "And unless you want me to find out on my own." He breathes into my ear, his breath hot and his deep voice oozing confidence and composure. "I suggest you answer my question."
He was cool, calm and in control while I was nothing but a desperate toy in his hands.
Chest heaving, skin flushed in frustration, I clench my teeth, hating myself for being this weak.
It was much more than not being able to stand my ground with Nico, it symbolized my lack of ability to fight back.
I stood there and let Rico walk away from me without giving him a piece of my mind. I laid there and let Spenser's girlfriend beat me. I laid there and let Dillon defile me.
For once I wanted to be the strong one, the one that fought back, the one with control.
It shouldn't be hard. This attraction between us wasn't one sided. And judging by the erection digging into my rear, I had the same affect on him.
It was a long shot, but I had nothing to lose.
Arching my back, I throw my head back while simultaneously pulling Nico's head down towards me.
He complies, and when I turn my head to the side, my lips skim the skin of his ear as I exaggerate the movements of my hips. "I can feel it dripping down my leg." I say softly.
I didn't know exactly what I was trying to do, but I wait to gouge his reaction before proceeding.
I was convinced he was going to laugh at me had it not been for the way his movements faltered and he exhaled harshly, muttering a, "Fuck." under his breath.
His reaction gives me the confidence to continue.
"I can't explain exactly what it is my body wants right now." I continue, the beat gets louder as the song winds down into its last chorus, "But I know I want you to do it." I whisper letting my lips brush the shell of his ear just as another low curse escapes under his breath.
He wasn't dancing anymore, his body was tense while the erection digging into my backside practically throbbed with need.
It felt good to be in control.
"Yeah?" He grunts, his breathing completely uneven and his hands now on my hips directly guiding my ass into his erection.
We weren't really dancing anymore, and from the light grunts coming from him, he didn't care that we were on a dance floor in a busy club. Or that he'd left me at a place like this not too long ago.
"But." I finish, stepping away and spinning around to face him.
Dilated pupils, wet parted lips, and the exposed skin beneath the chains on his chest glisten. The man looked like he would devour me if I wasn't careful. "I'm sure you've got someone else you'd rather choose over me." I smile.
This wasn't like me. I wasnt immature and petty, but I was tired of being the bigger and better person.
It'd got me a broken heart, a bruised up face and a hurt ego.
I could only handle so much.
His chest heaves and his eyes flare, the crazed look in them telling me that he's sexually frustrated and completely taken back. "The fuck is your problem?" He rasps, suddenly looking at me like I'm the crazy one.
Like he hadn't practically told me that I was his second choice.
But I wipe the anger from my face and glance down at his dick - as he liked to call his penis. "Definitely not you." I say lightly, looking back up at him, "But I'm sure I can get what I want from someone else. Maybe one of those pervs as you so called them." I say, looking past him and towards the man looking at me from the bar. The same one that'd steadied me while dancing earlier.
I send him a small little wave and he waves back, his eyes lighting up.
I look back towards Nico to see his face now dead serious, the arousal wiped clean as a dangerous calmness washes over his demeanour as he follows my eye. "Don't you fucking dare."
I tilt my head curiously, up at him, "Why? Does the thought of it make you feel... worthless?" I say genuinely, feigning interest. "Like you're nothing but a second choice?"
And when his jaw tightens and his cold eyes stare into mine, I frown and step forward, bringing my hand to his cheek and giving him a nice little pat. "Welcome to the club, sweetheart."
I don't wait for his response before I dip into the crowd and hurry away from the man who I knew would get over his initial shock and most likely come after me.
Hesitation crawls up my skin as I round a corner and move towards the women's restroom. I knew that in his own screwed up way, he was trying to make up for what he'd said. It was clear through the past week.
Not to mention, most of my anger towards him was misplaced. Yes, I was still angry with him, but my frustration was stemming from the hurt and betrayal I'd endured today.
Nico was just the easiest target to take all my frustration out on.
The music blares from beyond the walls as I step into the bathroom and move towards a stall.
I was hurting and dealing with it in the worst way possible. I shouldn't have come to a club directly after finding out Rico had betrayed me and I shouldn't allow Nico to rile me up so easily.
I was a mess.
Exiting the stall, I wash my hands and stare at myself in the mirror, I'd covered most of the bruises on my face with makeup, but Nico had somehow managed to give me a hickey.
I'm not gonna lie, the thought of it made my stomach flutter but I was going to cover it because I knew he wouldn't like it.
The door swings open just as I finish covering the hickey with the makeup in my purse and I peek over, my eyes pausing when I see the blonde man from the bar standing inside the ladies washroom.
"I want my turn." He says, before I can say anything.
My brows furrow and I place the foundation and my brush on the wide counter next to my purse. "I don't understand."
He leans against a stall and sends me a smirk, "A girl as pretty as you doesn't need to understand. You just need to stand there and look pretty. With me, on the dance floor, of course."
I wash my hands again and grab a paper towel to dry them off as I eye him weirdly. Was this how he normally talked to women? By implying that they were stupid?
"No, thanks," I say, tossing the paper towel into the trash can and turning towards the door only for him to step into my path.
"I don't think you heard me right." He chuckles, stepping towards me and I take a step back towards the counter, "I've been watching you dance all night. Now, I'm asking you to dance with me."
I shake my head, drawling my gaze from him to the door behind him just as it bursts open to see a tall figure hovering over the threshold.
Like a moth to a flame, Nico's eyes instantly find mine, his swimming with frustration, anger and annoyance. Something that only flares, the second he looks towards the blonde guy.
"Out." He doesn't even spare the man another glance, instead his heated gaze moves back to me, while I turn around and gather my makeup from the counter.
"Who the fuck do you think you- Ah shit, man. Watch the shirt, it's new-" I hear as I glance up into the mirror only to see Nico swiftly grip the nape of the mans neck and drag him towards the door. He opens the door with his free hand and then swiftly flings the blonde man out of the room.
The door shuts and the lock turns, luckily all the other stalls were empty meaning that we were in here alone.
I focus on gathering the rest of my things all the while ignoring the stare of the brooding bull behind me. "I'm sick of this attitude." His voice echos through the room, eerily calm and collected.
"I don't know what your talking about." I reply, the attitude clear as day in my voice.
This is what I'm talking about. I couldn't seem to control my temper around him.
"Don't you think you've put me through enough shit?" He grits out and I finally look up into the mirror to look at him standing behind me. His hands are buried in his pockets, while he stands tall, broad shoulders and toned arms straining beneath the material of his black dress shirt.
I spin around and cross my arms, as he steps forward, calm as ever. "Not even close."
His hand darts up and he catches my throat in his large inked hand, it's not overwhelmingly strong but his grip is firm as he squeezes once in warning.
His thumb rubs up the side of my neck as he steps closer, using his hold on my neck to tilt my head up. "Do you at least regret letting him touch you?"
"Why does that matter?" I say, my chest heaves and his eyes dart down to follow the movement.
"Because I did." He says, his voice softening as he looks back up at me. "And I didn't even touch her." He admits, and I realize he's talking about leaving with Zlata.
Guilt prickles at my insides but I push it away. Why was I feeling guilty? He was the one that said he wouldn't care, he was the one that said all those things to me. He was the one that left with her, twice.
"In that case, no, I don't regret it." I say, evenly, the lie flowing out of my mouth effortlessly.
His calm facade crumbles for a moment and his grip tightens around my neck before he pulls me so that he can get in my face."I can only handle so much of the attitude. Stop fucking lying."
I hesitate, wanting to give in, and maybe it's the urge to self destruct or the stubbornness but I push it.
"Truthfully?" I say, staring up at him. "I regret not asking him to go all the way with m-" I don't get to finish my sentence, for the next thing I know, Nico's turning me around and pushing my front down on the counter, effectively bending me over it.
My nose is inches away from the mirror in front of me and I have to stand on my tippy toes while my butt practically dangles in the air.
I shriek and move to get up but he steps directly behind me and pushes me back down onto the cool marble of the counter, sending me a pointed look in the mirror.
I shut my mouth.
"Finish that fucking sentence." He responds evenly, I stare up at his form through the mirror but he ignores my glare, instead, he begins to push my skirt up until it's bunched up at my hips. "I fucking dare you." His voice reeks of warning.
I narrow my eyes at him but snap my mouth shut. I was far too stubborn to let him know that his threat was working. So instead, I change the subject. "What are you even doing?"
He looks up at me, while his hand rubs along the exposed skin of my ass not covered by my blue underwear. "Calming myself down."
My eyes narrow at him through the mirror and my temper flares. Who does he think he is? "Screw yo-"
I'm cut off by my own strangled scream as his left hand comes down on my left side, hard. The sound of the slap resounds in the room and Nico remains calm. Merely glancing up at me in the mirror, raising a brow while his hand rubs the place he'd just slapped. "You were saying?"
My face flushes as my eyes widen in outrage. I glare at him through the mirror. "You're absolutely insane! You can't just-"
He does it again. His hand comes down hard on the other side of ass and I suppress the urge to gasp out, petrified at the arousal gathering between my legs at his actions and the sight of him.
What was wrong with me?
"You done?" He asks pointedly.
A moment of silence passes between us and I decide it best to stand down before I embarrassed myself any further. "Fine." I mumble, begrudgingly.
He slaps my ass again, his movements aren't faint or light by any means. They're hard enough to have my skin stinging.
"What was that for?!" I hiss.
"For covering my hickey." He says nonchalantly, like him spanking me in the bathroom of a club at midnight for covering a hickey, on my neck was a normal thing.
He does it again, twice this time, and I bite down on my lower lip to suppress the noises that threaten to escape. "That's for calling me by another guys name." He spits and I can tell that one's been bugging him.
With a sigh, I rest my forehead down against the marble as I try to rein in my arousal but his hands rubbing back and forth at my reddened skin aren't helping.
Another smack resounds in the room, he's alternating between sides and I don't even bother looking up at him. My face is as red as a tomato and I didn't know how to feel about the fact that he was literally spanking me. "And that one?" I mumble.
His hands absentmindedly massage my sore cheeks and when I look up into the mirror, he rolls his shoulders and I swear he looks more relaxed.
"To even the score."
I blink at him. "You do know this is weird right?"
He raises a brow and pulls my skirt back over my ass, his fingers brushing my inner thighs in the process and sending goosebumps through me.
"If it's so weird, why are you dripping down your leg?" He says, holding up his hand and I catch sight of his glistening fingers.
Mortified, I jump up and away from him while he chuckles. "Well... you're also aroused." I accuse, pointing down at his erection.
He raises a brow at me, licking his fingers clean of my arousal. "I never claimed not to be."
I stare at him, he looks unfazed.
I stare at myself in the mirror. I look embarrassed, flushed and like a complete mad woman.
With a confused sigh, I grab my purse and turn around to leave, only to run into Nico.
I barely have time to side step him, before he's tilting my chin and glancing down at me, the look on his face pensive. "I fucked up." He finally breathes after a long tense silence.
No. He wasn't supposed to acknowledge his wrongdoings. He was supposed to continue being an asshole and I was supposed to continue hating him.
A tear glides down my cheek at the thought. I didn't really had him, he'd messed up, yes. But his actions over the past week had contradict his hurtful words and I knew I was only angry at him because it took away from the sadness.
He roughly swipes the tears from beneath my eyes. "Please don't cry."
I send him a sad smile, and shake my head, "it's not you. I-I've just had a really bad day."
"I know." He mumbles, his brows drawing together as a pensive look crosses his features.
He did know, because he was there today.
He was there pulling Spensers girlfriend off me when no one else did. He was there to stand up for me when no one else did. He was there to hold my hand in the elevator and he was there to let his shirt soak up all my tears.
My throat tightens with emotion as I stare up at him, he holds my stare, before doing something so out of character that my heart melts.
He moves forward and kisses each of cheeks, over the tears. His touch gentle yet the hesitancy of his actions telling me just how foreign it is to him. "dime como arreglarlo." He murmurs, resting his forehead down on mine. (Spanish| tell me how to fix it)
I shut my eyes as my heart warms, and a smile graces my lips. I pull away and grab his hand, dragging him towards the door.
"Baila conmigo."
(Dance with me)
𓆩❤︎𓆪
There's no smut in this chapter but it's only bc I started writing this chapter today, and I simply couldn't write a whole ass smut chapter and perfect it in that short of a time frame.
But there will be smut next chapter. I'm curious as to what you want to see?
Also lmk if the 'spanking' scene was any good. I'm literally deranged rn so I won't be able to tell till I get a good nights sleep.