Loving A Villain (EDITED VERSION)

Gentle

WARNING! MATURE CONTENT STARTS AND ENDS WITH *** 

Katrina's POV

"Wait, where are we going again?" I ask from my apparently very necessary seat in the back of the truck, as far away from the wheel and gas petal as possible.

Klaus is such a bitch.

He's just jealous I can drive faster than he can run.

Klaus sighs from besides me, he was sitting next to me to the right, and Aria was sitting to my left. She had demanded I sit in the middle and act as a barrier between her and Klaus.

Because no one is noticing the long looks she is shooting him from my side.

Well everyone except Klaus, who is too busy pressing his head against the window of the truck and drunkenly muttering the lyrics to some song that I couldn't make out.

"I have a place," is all Christos says. Super descriptive and helpful.

Blue and Christos sat in the front, Christos driving like he hadn't again magically appeared just as Blue had dragged all of us out of Aria's house party.

Everyone was quiet, the car ride damn near silent except for the drunken ramblings of Klaus. I could already feel the floating-like effects of alcohol wearing off, maybe from the two bottles of water that Blue had forced me to drink or maybe it was from the scorching looks he'd been sending me.

Like I had said, it was quiet in the car, but internally I had been consistently screaming for the last two hours.

I'm not sure where we were going.

I was told if I ask one more time, I'd be shoved out of the car and ran over. Twice.

But we'd been in this luxury vehicle for the past three hours, and consistently for these past hours Blue has been looking at me like I was going to be his last meal.

At first, I would look up and find his head slightly turned, the corner of his eye watching me intently.

The first few times I'd flip him off and grin when he glared, but then I'd catch him watching and I found that I couldn't sit still.

It was like my skin was too tight, like my lungs weren't gaining enough oxygen, and unconsciously I found myself watching him.

Looking at the wide set of his shoulders, looking at the muscles that were clenched in his back, staring at the strong lines of his neck. I was watching his fingers tap drum lightly against the middle console of the car.

He was turning me on.

Like, bad.

And then I realized it wasn't just me, it was also him.

I was able to ... feel this obsessive, dark, starving, thing, and it wasn't mine.

No.

It was his.

And then those looks he was shooting me seemed less harmless and more like dark promises.

Like now.

He was staring at me, right now.

And I was staring at him.

Heat, pure burning heat, flashed through my entire body as his eyes slowly trailed up my legs, over my chest, my neck, until he reached my eyes.

Fire blazed back at me.

I didn't realize I had squeezed my legs together, not until his eyes shot to them quickly before his thumb made a slow pass over his bottom lip as he watched me.