What He Likes
1157 Words
Florian had been waiting downstairs like he always did, and I slowly walked down to him, my smile small. He was a little distracted by something, and I came in front of him, my eyes taking a bit of time to watch him.
His eyes were thin, and his brows slightly furrowed as he spaced out.
He turned to me fairly quickly, however, and I gave him a small smile.
"What were you thinking about?" I asked, turning to the TV he appeared to be watching.
Right as I turned to it, he turned the TV off. My face dropped, and I turned to him.
"What's it?"
He shrugged. "It was nothing. Just a..."
"Are you watching adult stuff?" I asked, my eyes thin.
"I do adult stuff, sweetheart."
My eyes widened, and I turned red as extremely clear flashbacks of our first night together came to mind. I instinctively brought my hands to cross over my chest, and he gave a small chuckle.
"Let's go. I will drive."
I swallowed, then nodded, hoping he would leave so I could fight against the demons in my head, but he didn't. Instead, he searched for my hand and took it, then led me outside.
A pitch black super car was parked right where the limo had been last night, and I gave a small chuckle. I remember this car clearly, or at least, I remember when he got it.
It was during my first year of college, and I had come for holiday when Ronan kept pestering dad for it. According to him, only Florian. his best friend, had one in the entire country.
Thinking back, Ronan had always been so intimidated by Florian and tried his best to measure up, while Florian was more effortless, laid back, and charismatic. It probably added to how he had found it easy to cut Florian off like that.
"You still have this car."
He nodded. "How do you know about it?"
He opened the door for me, and his hand came to the side of my head, so even if an accident happened, I would hit my head on his hand and not the metal edge of the car.
The gesture made my stomach flip.
I waited till he closed the door, and I watched him walk around to the driver's seat. He stopped, talking to a few guards, before he finally came in.
"My brother went crazy when you got it. He got one, too, from Dad."
Florian chuckled. "Cute."
I laid back, my eyes closing briefly. "Were you both estranged?"
"Estranged?" He asked as his hand came behind my seat, and his eyes fixed on the rearview in front of him. One hand navigated the steering as he pulled a stunt reverse that I thought I could only see in movies, and he pulled something else from behind my seat.
"Yes, I mean, you both don't seem friendly at all. The last time..."
"I never liked your brother, Roxanne."
My eyes widened, and I turned to him. He was handing a brown file to me, and I took it, then placed it on my thigh, determined to go through eith the other conversation before initiating anything about the envelope.
"You never liked Ronan?"
"Maybe when I was younger," he said with a shrug. "I have known him for what? Twenty years or more. I remember not liking him for at least fourteen of those years."
"You always came around, though. You always celebrated birthdays, and you seemed inseparable."
"True," he said, nodding. "At first. Not after my sixteenth."
"What happened?"
He shrugged. "Can't remember."
I can tell there was more because his jaws clenched hard, and he seemed tense. I bit down on my lips and slowly leaned to him, my hand slowly resting on his thigh.
My touch made him jump, and I moved my hand immediately, my eyes wide. His eyes were just as wide as mine when he turned to me.
"What are you doing?" His voice was low, almost vulnerable.
"Well, I was just trying to comfort you. I am sorry I..." My voice trailed off, and I leaned away from him. My eyes blinked rapidly, and I averted my gaze, my chest heaving.
"Rox."
I shook my head. "I am sorry. I just..." I let out a sigh. "I thought you looked a little strained from talking about whatever made you dislike my brother, and that's why I did that cause..."
"You don't need to..."
"Cause Damien always liked it when I did that if he was in a bad mood and..."
I froze, my eyes wide as I realized what I had stupidly blurted out. I hadn't been thinking, and was a little shocked by his reaction to me.
I turned to him, and he was watching me. No. It wasn't him. It was Florian Hunt. The billionaire I saw in magazines. It wasn't the Florian Hunt that blushed when he pulled up my zipper. It wasn't the Florian Hunt that blushed when I told him to marry me.
"Florian..." I started to say, just as he swerved the car to the right, and stopped the car, his eyes averting mine, his lips set in a defiant straight line.
The car went silent, and the tension heightened between us. My chest heaved, but Florian said nothing, letting my conscience eat away at my soul.
"Florian. I didn't mean to..."
"You meant for it to hurt," he said slowly, then met my eyes. His eyes were cold, the ice blocks around them thickening the more he looked at me.
"Florian. I swear, I..."
"It did," he said again, then turned away.
I felt my chest tighten, and I struggled to think of anything to say to him. I couldn't even tell what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but he wouldn't say anything more.
I covered my face with my hands, my chest heaving with guilt. How much more will I let Damien ruin me?
I suddenly felt Florian move, and I looked up just in time as he leaned to me, closing the distance. He didn't look icy anymore. He looked angry. Almost livid.
My eyes widened, but my protective instincts broke down, and I couldn't bring myself to move away from him.
"Florian..."
"I bet he likes you touching his thigh, Rox." His voice was low, dangerous, f*****g sexy. I hated how the danger in his eyes did something to my legs, weakening my inhibitions, bracing me to be taken like a wild sinner right here in this car.
"I don't think he will like you having another man's tongue down your throat."
His eyes went right down to my lips, his fingers caressing my jawline, his eyes dark. My lips parted slowly, and it took me a while to realize that I had just given him undefined access.
"Good girl," he whispered, and a shiver ran down my spine.
- Writer
