Wanting What I Shouldn't

Chapter 5

All night.

All damn night I've been thinking about her.

She is something else.

Fuck.

The way she took down the hooded guy with a gun right in front of my eyes. The way she checked the chamber and realized that there was only one cartridge. The way she snapped at me. The way she glared at me. The way she was grinding on me.

Damn, I'm still horny as fuck.

I would never have guessed that a short girl curled up in a library reading a big book with glasses on and can speak a million different languages could stand in front of a man on his knees with a gun to his head spitting harsh words at his face. That was probably the hottest thing I've ever seen.

   In some ways I wished I was the guy on his knees in front of her.

   But damn. The way she looked in those fucking short ass black shorts was getting me distracted. But she looked so bored when she walked up behind the guy, like she'd done things like that a million times before.

   Her stance was strong, her hits were always dead on. Her moves were precise and never faltering. She had nailed the guy right in the ear, he started bleeding after that hit.

   But the way she spoke to me. No one speaks to me that way. And no one ever has, until her.

   Her mouth is dangerous. And I love it.

   "Son! Get down here!" My father yells up the stairs. His loud voice travels into my room with ease.

   I roll my eyes, not exactly wanting to go down and talk with my father. He probably has another "errand" for me to do for him.

   "Son!" He yells again.

   Fine I'm coming.

   Groaning, I stand up from my bed and run a hand through my wind whipped hair and lazily make my way down the hallways, my hands deep in my sweatpants pockets.

   I make my way through the long decorated hallway, nodding to our servants as I go.

   Yeah, we're rich.

   The priceless heirlooms sat on precisely cleaned dark oak tables, the million dollar art paintings hanging on the light sage walls, the lower half of the wall was covered in swirling gold, shining brightly in the large lights hanging from the ceiling.

   I take a sharp right and lazily make my way down the gold grand staircase, green carpet laid out over the steps.

   Paintings of landscapes scattered across the walls, a long green carpet lead right from the steps to the front door. The large dark oak double doors with the bright and shining gold handles.

   Once I finished descending down the stairs, I take a left walking into a light grey almost white paint coated kitchen. The dark green cabinets with gold knobs clashed with the white marble countertops quiet nicely I'll say.

   I nod to the cooks who were busy cleaning up after dinner. I had missed that. Oh well. They paused their work and slightly cowered back as I pass by.

Watching them cower made me think of Amara. How she doesn't cower away when I walk by. How she stands her ground and lifts her chin. How she stares at me in defiance. How she never lets thing go. How she teases me.

I walk under the archway and into the dinning room. The table ran the whole way through the dinning room, the sage green walls and gold accents extended through out the dinning room, paintings and pictures were hung all over the sage walls.