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chapter nineteen |
Y o u r  p o v

"I'm not wearing that." I said defiantly. I looked up at him like he was crazy. Which he was. There was no way in hell that I was wearing that kind of dress to go anywhere with him. I didn't understand why he had an outfit like that lying around. My mind suggested that it was from all the girls he has brought into this house.

He sighed dramatically, running his fingers through his damp hair. He had just gotten out of the shower and there was a towel hugging low at his waist. I let my eyes scan over his body, scanning all his tattoos. His body was like art to me, even though I didn't want to admit it at the time. The colors, the complexity of the designs, the placement; they were mesmerizing. I could only stare for moments at a time; I didn't want him to catch me admiring him.

"You wear what I tell you to wear." He said bluntly. I scoffed unknowingly. I looked over at him studying his features. I wanted to know that if I became disrespectful, could I get away with it. He seemed angry, and he didn't have his medication which subdued his aggression.

"Is there anything else?" I asked. He sighed watching me thoughtfully.

"No. Just wear it."

"Where are we going?" I asked. If I'm wearing this and leaving the house, I needed to know where I was going. It was a fair question. He exited my room, walking across the hallway. He had assigned me a room that was right across from his. The windows were secured, which meant I couldn't escape even if I tried.

I stared down at the white dress that was laid out on the bed. It was low at the chest and form fitting. Laying right next to it was a diamond bracelet and a pair of red ankle heels. What am I even doing?

"A club." His voice spoke.

J a s o n p o v

Fuck.

She looked stunning. The white dress hugged at her hips perfectly, like a glove. The first time I saw her, I was surprised that she wasn't a model. Watching her felt like I was admiring art. When I stared at her for too long, I didn't trust myself around her. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch as my eyes wandered over her body. I watched as she walked unawarely down the steps. She looked like a fucking queen.

How am I supposed not touch her? How am I supposed to control myself?

As she was walking down the stairs she kept staring down at herself self consciously. She stumbled on the heels a little bit, which was cute. I covered my mouth with my hands to hide my small laughs. She looked so self-conscious as she stared down at her body. If only she knew that she she was so beautiful, her hair, her eyes, her smile, her body. Everything. Everything was perfect.

I wish she hadn't hated me. I felt like I could look but I would never be able to touch. How can I have a chance with someone who is repulsed by me? I wished I had a real chance at receiving any ounce of love from her.

"I can't go out with you like this. I look like your escort or something." She complained, without catching my eye. As soon as she did, she paused, scanning her eyes over my appearance. I knew I cleaned up well.

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