'What is the anger for?' His eyes glinted for my answer. His cherubic eyes just looking at me was enough to hold my breath but he was wrong. Especially when I don't know him, when I don't even know his name. In that dark club filled with sober humans, the way his hands touched me played the strings of my desires. But he is not my thing. Rich brats are not my thing. Like bitches to the riches, I couldn't resist him. But I've got limits and I couldn't cross them. Breaking my silence he continued. 'Though I can read your eyes but if the anger is for that kiss then the next time you must not sit in the prostitute section'. •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•