Have you ever wanted someone with such great passion?
Every waking moment, all you can think of is them.
To feel their skin under your hands.
To own every part of them.
That's how Damien and Javier feel about April Watters.
They want to possess her...
Dreams of my last night in Paris flood into my mind when I try to sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see their hands, mouth, and other things on and... in me. I can still slightly feel Javier's kiss on my lips and Damien's hand running down my body.
As good as these dreams are, they are making it hard for me to sleep. Every time I try to go back to sleep, I wake up instead feeling hot and bothered below.
I hadn't heard from any of them since they left earlier that morning after they helped me settle in from the trip. I debated many times whether I should call, but I never got the courage to do so.
"Just to check in," I told myself as I paced back and forth in my room.
I dialed their numbers and hung up so many times I couldn't even count. Mark walked in after checking up on Trinity and laughed at my anxiousness.
"Do you think I should call?" I asked about to dial one of their numbers again.
"No!" he snatched the phone out of my hand before I could dial. "April calm down. They'll call you. Besides, they literally left like thirty minutes ago."
I tried to take my phone back but he held it above his head so that I couldn't reach it.
"No no no. I will not let you do something stupid. Now I have to go to the studio, but you stay here and unpack, and DON'T CALL THEM! You know what on second thought I don't trust you. So I'm taking your phone with me."
He started walking away, but I quickly intercept him.
"Wait! What if I have an emergency?"
"Pray."
And so here I am restless all night.
"Ugh," I groan flopping back on my bed.
This is going to be a long night.
~
I walk to the kitchen to go make some coffee. As hard as I tried last night sleep was something that I couldn't do peacefully. As a result, I am still incredibly fatigue.
When I get to the kitchen Mark is already there, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. When he sees me he pulls out another cup for me.
"Oh gosh you look terrible," he mocks passing me the cup.
"Ugh! I didn't get much sleep last night. Did I get any call last night?"
I take a sip of the coffee, the hot liquid moves down my throat warming my insides.
"If you're asking if any of your boyfriends called you, the answer is no."
"They aren't my boyfriends," I protest. "How would that even work?"
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