Viscious, cruel, cold -- those are just some of the words used to describe Jade Von Kaiser, the sole heiress to the Von Kaiser fortune. Working alongside her father, she has proven to be the only one worthy of the title, and she doesn't care who she...
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I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust to my dimly lit surroundings. Streetlights poured in through the windows, highlighting everything in the apartment with warm hues of burnt orange. My head was resting against something hard. I tilted my head back to see Dylan's chest, moving up and down gently in a rhythmic sleep. We were on our side, facing each other. His long eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks gracefully, making him almost look innocent-- even if he was the farthest thing from it.
We had talked for hours, settling into each other as we did. He didn't seem to mind the way I held onto him. When he held me in his arms, something tender was in his eyes that I've never experienced before. It brought a foreign beating to my heart, and my face instantly pooled with embarrassment. I attempted to convince myself it was just lust; my heart's way of reminding me of the way his fingers felt when he touched me. Nothing more.
Talking to him was so easy. Although I never hid who I truly was, a part of me felt I lived a plastic life. Every interaction I had with others felt hollow, their intentions hidden behind masks. Even those I would consider to be my closest friends would leave me behind in a second to advance their own financial and social statuses. Dylan was different.
He was crass, rude, manipulative, and straightforward. Honestly, he was kind of the worst. But that just made me want him more. Even with all his glaring flaws, he still perked with interest when I spoke, a warmth filling his caramel eyes.
We talked about everything from favorite movies and books to arguing over who was the best character in Arrested Development; P. S. it's Lucille. He told me he had a younger brother he never spoke to, a father he didn't know, and a mother who passed from leukemia. I told him about my mostly absent yet somewhat overbearing father and a mother who left us behind when I was 10. I haven't heard much from her over the years, but Father says she's doing well. It was surprising how composed he was about the whole situation, given our family's reputation for punishment. He must've truly loved her.
We must've dozed off after some time, our eyes locked onto each other as we spoke. This was the calmest I had felt in a really long time, where I could let go of my worries and only focus on the conversation between us. My heart thumped in my chest, the sound deafening against the hush of the apartment.
I kept my eyes trained on Dylan's face, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Then my eyes trailed down to the tight shirt Dylan was wearing. So far, he had seen a lot of me-- more than I'd care to admit. It's only fair I do the same. I lifted his shirt up slowly as to not wake him, revealing the impeccably muscled torso underneath. The ridges in his abs were deep, not unlikely for someone with his skillset. His torso was long due to his height, and his pants hung low, revealing a nicely shaped V. I nearly began drooling on Dylan's pillow. How was it possible for someone to be this sexy?
"Are you checking me out?" Dylan's voice came out husky and deep from sleeping.
"What? No!" I shouted with surprise, releasing the shirt from my grip.
