7_I Think I Like You
1661 Words
Ariella POV
“This is your house?” I gape at the building in front of me. I want to call it a mansion, but the word does not do it justice. In my mind, a mansion is big and beautiful, but it lacks to describe the majestical vibe of this one. It fills me with a sense of sturdiness and safety. The double-storey stone and wood building stands proudly at the foot of a mountain. I am unsure what I expected, but such a beautiful structure never crossed my mind.
“Yes,” he replies softly. “My family has been living here for decades.”
“And you want me to go there with you?” I look at him. “Alone. Just you and me in that big house.”
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles. “Your reputation will be intact. There are other people.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I roll my eyes. “I thought you were living alone, and that is a huge house.”
“So, you’re not worried about your reputation,” he teases as we approach the front door.
“I wasn’t aware that I have one,” I shrug. “Since I don’t even have a name.”
Cole opens the door and motions for me to enter. I walk inside and look around curiously as he follows me.
“Everything is so beautiful,” I whisper, afraid that I will disturb the peace and serenity if I talk too loudly.
“Thank you,” he smiles. “My mother decorated it.”
I am about to ask about his mother when an elderly man walks towards us. His long, grey hair reaches his shoulders and matches the colour of his moustache and beard which nearly reaches his belly. He is wearing some kind of robe or gown and slippers.
“Hello, son,” he greets Cole and looks at me over his small, round glasses. “I wasn’t expecting guests this time of night.”
“Your father is a wizard?” I look at Cole accusingly. He could have warned me. Werewolves, vampires and wizards – what is next? Unicorns and fairies?
“That’s not my father,” Cole laughs heartily.
“And I’m not a wizard,” the old man huffs.
“It’s my grandfather, Jack,” Cole continues. “And he’s the biggest Harry Potter fan I know.”
“I’m going to brew a pot of tea,” Jack glares at me but I notice the faint smile behind his beard.
“Brew,” Jack’s stomach bobs up and down when he starts laughing. “Get it? Because a wizard …”
“Yes, Gramps,” Cole cuts him off laughingly. “I get it.”
“You can join me once you clean up,” Jack says as he walks away. “You two stink of bloodsuckers and disinfectant.”
“Who’s Harry Potter?” I whisper once Jack is gone.
“It’s a fictional boy who went to magic school or something,” he explains as we walk up the stairs. “I haven’t read the books or seen the movies, but Gramps knows it by heart.”
“Aren’t I the fool,” I sigh theatrically.
“Don’t fuss about it,” Cole laughs. “I found it very entertaining.”
I decide not to respond. I have already made a fool of myself once; I do not wish to repeat it. Being unfamiliar with Harry Potter is not an embarrassment, but to mistake an old man in his pyjamas for a wizard is.
“This will be your room,” Cole announces as he opens a door. “That door leads to a bathroom and mine is at the end of the hall to the left. While you make yourself comfortable, I’ll get you some of Ruth’s clothes.”
“Wouldn’t she mind?” I ask as I take in the picturesque room, which is decorated with dark, wooden furniture and white and green linen. It is breathtakingly beautiful.
“She wouldn’t even know,” Cole says, and I detect a note of frustration. “She doesn’t wear half of what she owns.”
“Thank you,” I nod, my eyes fixated on his bare chest. Instantly, my mind creates images of Cole in the shower. How the water would run through the contours of his chiselled body and the urge to touch him overpowers me.
“You should leave now,” I say firmly and cross my arms in front of my chest as I fight my urges. I took the initiative to kiss him twice already. A third time might seem tacky. “I’m having inappropriate thoughts.”
“Really?” His voice is low and sultry as he steps closer to me. “How inappropriate?”
“Very,” I confess softly, surprised that my behaviour does not repulse him.
“So, you wouldn’t protest if I do this?” He murmurs as his hands slip underneath my t-shirt. My skin tingles when his fingers touch my stomach and move upwards.
“No,” I reply boldly and look him in the eye.
His fingers move tediously slowly upwards. His touch is so gentle that I can convince myself this is an illusion. But when his palms brush over my breasts, my n!pples harden instantly.
A rush of excitement and anticipation jolts through me and my stomach dives when his hands firmly cover my breast. My eyes close involuntarily and a whimper of delight escapes me.
The night air brushes over my skin when he quickly removes my t-shirt.
“What are you doing?” I gasp when he picks me up. I was enjoying his touch; I did not want him to stop.
“Getting you into the shower,” with long strides he carries me to the bathroom and puts me down.
“Take off your pants,” he demands as he opens the taps.
Silently and ashamed, I obey and avoid eye contact. What was I thinking? What kind of respectable man would want to touch a dirt-covered girl? Technically, I was the one kissing him. That does not mean he is interested in me.
I expect him to leave, but he surprises me when he pulls down his pants, takes my hand and drags me into the shower with him. His body is hard and warm against mine when he pulls me into his embrace. He turns his back towards the shower and shields me from the water as his lips come crashing down on mine.
The excitement and anticipation from earlier nestle warmly within me and I curl my fingers into his hair. His hands eagerly roam my body and sparks ignite where he touches me.
“We need to clean up before the water gets cold,” he murmurs against my lips and reaches for the body wash.
“At this point, I wouldn’t even mind,” I mumble and glide my fingers over his shoulders. I am captivated by the water streaming down his chest – it is even more marvellous than I imagined.
“I didn’t save you from a vampire so that you can die from hypothermia,” he chuckles and hands me a loofah.
“Then we should hurry,” I vigorously wash the dirt off. “I already start to feel chilly.”
“I can help with that,” he drops his loofah and pulls me against his chest.
“Much better,” I mumble and glide my loofah over his chest.
A low growl escapes deep from his chest when I move the loofah lower and the next moment, my back is against the wall and his lips come crashing down on mine.
The loofah slips from my hold, and I press closer to him. His hand slides down my hips, and I gasp loudly when his fingers curl into my netherhair.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks against my lips.
“Not at all,” I pull him closer and kiss him feverishly.
His fingers continue to caress and stroke, and it is not long before the warm tingling of desire explodes into an earth-shattering orgasm. Cole does not stop his onslaught until I am a panting and trembling mess in his arms.
I am so caught up in the euphoria of my orgasm that I can only cling to him when he picks me up and carries me to bed. Gently, he lays me down against the pillows and pulls the cover over me.
“Where are you going?” I try my best to suppress my disappointment.
“To my room,” he replies. “You need your rest.”
“Don’t,” I say quickly and sit up straight. “I mean, please stay.”
“Are you sure?” He asks softly.
“I mean, only if you want to,” I reply. I do not mean to sound coy, but I am not going to force him into a situation he would rather avoid.
“Then you should move over,” he smiles. “That’s my side of the bed.”
“You should be grateful I can’t remember if I have a side,” I say as I shift to the other side. “I would’ve fought you on that.”
“And I would’ve loved every second of it,” he chuckles as he pulls me tightly against his chest.
“Cole,” I whisper as I trace patterns on his chest with my fingers. “I think I like you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” he leans over and kisses me gently.
“Get some rest,” he mutters against my lips. “You’re safe now.”
“I know,” I sigh contently and throw my arm around his waist before I close my eyes.
- Writer
