A Girl in Red

11 | GENTLE HEART

GENTLE HEART

"Hello, Angel." I greet as I waltz into her guarded room. Nemo Sangria grinned at me with his dog like face and I smiled back at him kindly. He was an ugly looking kid but nice enough and he was very skilled and trustworthy enough that I didn't mind him guarding my most prized jewel.

Speaking of my jewel, Alana looked interesting this bright morning. Her long hair is tied into a bun on the top of her head, she's blowing bright pink bubbles of gum, with Netflix playing in her TV as she leans over to clip her toenails. I can't help but find amusement at the scene unfolding before me. She looks so far from angelic at this very moment.

"Hello, Dickhead." Alana grunts as I sit the tray of food on the nightstand. It was her favorite — French toast, a chocolate chip muffin, a cheesy vegetable omelet with fajita chicken, and a glass of apple juice. "Thank you."

"Well you're polite, I'll give you that." I grumble before taking a seat across from the bed. "What shall we do today, gorgeous?"

"This bonding thing that you're trying to do isn't going to work. I'm sorry, but it's just not." She scowls at me. "It's been a week and you're still trying to get me to like you."

"I'm a hoot." I say in a slightly offended way.

Alana sniffs at me, "You're a pain in the ass and a disruption to my peace."

"Sounds like the same thing," I reply with a grin and a wink. "Plus, I'd be more than willing to disrupt your peace any time."

"That was a shit pickup line."

"I'm a shitty person." I say in response.

Alana rolls her stunning eyes. "Whatever."

"Go get ready, Angel," I'm feeling like we have lots to do. The joy I get from annoying her was overpowering all of my common sense. "I have an idea."

She sets the nail clippers down with a huff before pushing herself off the bed and into the bathroom. The door slams shut hard and I smirk before sitting back as the shower turns on. I try not to imagine her taking a shower.

Her curved body, rubbing her hands over her perfect tits and thick ass. I try not to imagine the towel between her legs with soap dripping down between her thighs reminding of another liquid of the same color and texture. I try not to imagine her pressed up against the bathroom wall, cold marble on her back, heat between her legs as she fingers herself to a private orgasm.

It's hard, I will admit, not to go in there and be blessed with the sight of her heavenly body. It's hard but I know how wrong it would be. Alana deserved her privacy, I knew that, I wasn't some kind of predator. But my body still buzzes at the memories of the first night we met. I still have scratches on my back from that night, I wanted so many more.

My toys could only do so much to ease my urges. I could have many orgasms as I wanted, though, and none of them would feel as good as her between my legs. To be frank, this agreement with Misha to not fuck anyone but my future wife was complete and utter ass. And not a good ass, either. I needed to get Alana out of my head and the only way I could do that was by fucking a hundred girls between now and our wedding — but Misha had to ruin it.

"Can you hand me the towel?" Alana's voice takes me out of the memories just as her lips brush my hipbone. "I forgot it."

I blink at the door. "What?"