"If you want some good lovin' baby. If you want some good lovin' baby. If you want some good lovin' little girl, I'll give you all I got."
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A soft gasp escaped my parted lips. The expression on my face was one of utter confusion as I tried to process the events that just occurred.
We almost kissed.
We almost-
You're not ready yet, his words cut into my thoughts like a knife. How does he even know what I'm ready for?!
"You okay over there, mama?" I heard Prince ask after a few minutes, a tiny hint of amusement in his tone. I watched as he twisted the cap on his water bottle closed and placed it back on the desk.
He must've walked over there after what happened, I mused, my brown orbs quickly roaming over his tiny frame before averting my gaze.
"I'm fine." I replied in a dry, clipped tone without looking at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Ye-you know what, no. I'm not fine." I tell him, standing up and walking over to him. Once I am in front of him, I poke him in the chest with my index finger. "Where do you get off telling me I'm not ready yet?! You don't know anything about me and what I can and can't handle."
"Woah, calm down, mama." He says, his eyes wide and arms raised in surrender. "I only said that because it's the truth. You're not ready yet."
"And how do you figure I'm not ready yet?"
"Well, you may be here with me, physically, but your heart is with your fiancé."
My mouth opened, preparing to protest, but I closed it again. He was right. No matter how much Zayn gets on my last nerve, I still love him.
But I can't deny this....infatuation....I have with Prince.
"Trust me, baby. I want to give you-." His voice becomes a husky, erotic whisper as he grabs my left hand and lightly presses it to the side of his face. His eyes close briefly as he leans into my palm. "Every." He draws out, taking my right hand and placing it to his chest. I could feel his rapid heartbeat underneath my palm. "Inch-." He doesn't let my hand linger on his chest long, making it slowly trail down the length of his body until it reached his intended destination. Between his legs. "Of me-." He continues, letting me feel everything he had to offer through his clothing, as he lightly presses himself against the palm of my hand.
