HIS: Doll (Jimin) | {Book 4} | ✔️

+E.1+

From the first time I saw him, I didn't like him.

I knew simply...

He was bad news.

From the moment my eyes settled on his hair to thick thunder thighs, to his thin fingers and those soft pillow lips, I knew he was bad news.

I knew from the way he stood, his model aura oozing, his sex oozing the same way—overflowing and uncontained. He was not a good guy.

This man was dangerous, lethal as the quickest and surest poison.

I knew from the way I felt a rush of emotions that it was bad. A mix of disgust and admiration.

In my head I cussed all the words I knew in my head, even the ones I did not use often. I knew just by his eyes that I knew he was just a rush of sex and everyone desires him, and he knew it.

Park Jimin.

He stood there cocky and proud, and even though he had been late in arriving, he had stood there as if he owned the place.

Then he had asked for water. That asshole.

I went away fuming. I would be lying if I had not expected that sweet of a voice from him. It had been thicker than melted chocolate, how it had coated my ears and lips down there. How a simple question, innocent in all manner in a way, became a sex promise to me.

The cocky, arrogant piece of ass—and thighs...he knew. How could he not know that he was sexy piece of meat that everyone desired.

That was who Jimin was. And I loathed him. Without having even to work with him I disliked him. The audacity he had to ask me for water as if I was a servants girl had just solidified my dislike for him further.

Still, it was undeniable, the way his eyes looked through the camera, it met my eyes. Even though my eyes, my soul was hidden behind the facade of my camera, his simple glance pierce through it to force me to face him with soul—my all.

Although he was distasteful and I didn't want to get to know him, through the camera, I saw him for who he was and could be.

Jimin was someone worth giving my all—in terms of work.

I meant in only in terms of work of course. I was strictly work, you know. I took that of importance. It was part of my work ethics.

🐻

That damn, bastard...

I hate him.

He broke my worth ethic, oath to myself. Well, not that I really had one, but gettin involved with people related to work was off limits. It was just easier that way. I've been there and there was no need for the aggravation, nor the repeat of history.

Mind and body didn't work sometimes together...I realized you late to my dismay.

I sighed as I had images of those sexy lips on my body. I saw the way his eyes had swallowed me whole like a predator.

And it haunted me...constantly, at
Home even when I was working, I was only reminded of his eyes, those deep eyes that would swallow me whole.

This was bad.

I was constantly reminded of him, at the most unexpected and expected times. My head would conjure up images of him.

All my senses would be unable to pull out from him.

Just like now, I would be in the dark, my eyes closed tightly—too tightly that I couldn't even sleep. I couldn't sleep as the insides of my pants were moist, the fabric being seeped by the product of his eyes and face inside my mind.

So often had this happened that I knew that—without inserting a finger to check—that the nether lips would be soaked.

It was bad, so bad.

The model dirtied my nights with dreams that were none too innocent.

And I knew as it continued, night after night, that he would never let me go.

🐻
Welcome to the mind of Dollface.

Still cannot believe that his Book has ended. Anyway, the epilogue. Did you like?