[ COMPLETED ]
Eliana Oakley and Casen Walker couldn't be further on the other's spectrum.
Eliana is twenty-one years old and in her last year of college. An artist at heart, she uses that to her advantage to further her early fashion design career...
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I dread walking into work this dreary Wednesday morning. It's like Mother Nature knew what was to come considering it's pouring down rain outside.
This is my first time back at work since New York Fashion Week and I'm not excited about it at all. The main reason being that I have to be in the same building as Chris Jackson for a couple of hours.
Currently, however, it's three in the morning and I'm curled up in Case's hold, trying to sleep but my overthinking isn't allowing that to happen.
Because leave it to Eliana to wake up at three in the morning because she remembered she didn't tell her boyfriend that the guy she was photographed with that started a whole mess is going to be working with her.
I run my teeth along his arm, just for fun, and feel him shift. Said arm is right by my neck so I don't know what he expected — it's nothing new.
I'm having fun grabbing his ass too, and he doesn't seem to mind. Especially since he's still sound asleep.
My thoughts are too loud though. That's what leads me to sigh and peck Case's lips, "Case." He doesn't move. I poke his ass cheek, "Stink stink."
He releases a huff through his nose, "Yes, babe?"
"That guy..." I start off, my tone soft as he keeps his eyes closed, "That kissed my cheek..." Case bristles, "Flo hired him."
I expected his eyes to shoot open, for him to go off on me for not telling him earlier but all he does is pull me even closer to his good-smelling self.
"You comfortable with him being there?" Is what he asks, his voice soft as he kisses my forehead.
I blink up at him, though I can barely even see him in the dark. "I don't know yet. He's weird."
He chuckles, "Yeah." There's a pause in the conversation as the sound of the rain beating down on the window fills the space, "I trust you, E. It's not like I'm gonna tell you to not go. You do what you want, peach. I'm just here to support you."
Ugh, can he be toxic for once?
Before I can voice the question, he moves his arm to snake it up my — well his — shirt and cup my breast.
"Now that I'm up, I guess," He sighs, finally peeking an eye open, "You want head?"
✘
Limping into Rio, I seem to have forgotten all about Mr. What's-His-Name after the dicking Case gave me at three o'clock in the morning on a now wonderful Wednesday.
