My eyes jolted open, did… Wasn't that Sinclair, my hands travel towards the lamp not far from where I laid, where the fuck is the string!, fuck finally.
“ uhm, it's me mar…martins” she stutters out in a slight whisper, the deep light could only reflects on her lacy mid night wear, and with the looks of things she wasn't putting on much.
Gulp
Is she here to seduce the hell out of me because it's working, she's so beautiful, and the replica of a photo college showing different shades of skin is driving me crazy
“ I should be pissed at you Sinclair put some clothes on” I say to her after minutes of gaining my sanity, “ can I lay beside you for the night please?” she asked out of the blue, making blood rush up my head.
There are lots of things that are not right here, did she just say please!, that's impossible, but why?, million of question even heaven wouldn't dare give an answer to storm my mind, and it becomes rhetoric all of a sudden.
I feel her crawl on my bed, without notice, she snuggles under the duvet, living me staring at the empty spot she stood a while ago, I should be the one in her place not her.
She tugs on the sheets again, obviously uncomfortable, “ why are you here Sinclair?” I could here my stern voice echo in the room, which frighten the bugs around well if they were any.
“ sleep martins” she tugs even more and I feel the sheets above my toe, it's freezing out here, you can't be selfish with my body, and also my sleep, I stood, taking the sheet away from her body then move over to the L shaped cushion close to the ps stand.
“ she's still selfish, bossy,” I utter within myself, or did I?
“ I heard that martin” Sinclair said rather loudly, making me roll my eyes, yea know it all Sinclair, she has power over everything.
The couch was inviting yet I found it hard to really sleep, the thoughts of having her in my bed hurt, I shouldn't care, beside I am just here to fuck her nothing more.
Grumbling
“ I fell in love with a stripper” she said,
What the fuck,processing it, gently, as thoughts run a million mile in less than a second, is she trying to open, “ Sinclair?” I call out to make sure she's the one telling me this
“ yes, I fell in love with a striper, when I was 16” she said, my heart skipped a beat she was quite tender, and how does that link to her taking me to a club, making ladies fuck me for free
Pleasure
And also hit me with a whip, it doesn't align in any way, and I don't care I should be the one telling a whole lot of back stories.
“ ok, so what happened”
I shouldn't have asked that, stupid margins
“ we fucked all day long, he was 18, and we were madly in love with each other hoping to get married one day and own a bar” she said, in a more calmer way, like an old lady telling a story.
her words makes me smirk, now I know why she's refered to as the sex Queen, must have fucked her way to adulthood, “ ok I am happy for your great sex life” I reply nonchalant, making her smile, I felt it.
“ he's dead martins and it's because of me” she said in a rather cold tone, that changed real fast, I was just about asking her his dick size.
“ Sorry about that Sinclair” she didn't respond but I know she heard it, “ but that doesn't explain why you did what you did”
“ it felt like I was relieving the pain all over again, and…” good night Martin she said, sniffing, that's strange, she sounds broken way too fast, she's a bossy billionaire why would she cry.
This feeling that had lingered in my heart for a while comes back again, and I feel a pull towards her, a part of me wants to console her, yet another part of me wants to shove her down the bed and sleep because my back hurts
Either way I will figure out when I get to the bed, I stand slightly and hesitantly, the ticking clock was daring me to move, even when my feet wasn't moving
“ stay away martins” she said, that pain again, when she says things that hurt yet she's oblivious of it, “ it's my bed Sinclair now move” I said, my voice deep and authoritative, I shouldn't be this authoritative , I should apologize.
“ sorry” I said almost immediately, she didn't utter a word, and even if she did, it wouldn't stop me from going back to bed, I crawled on the bed gently, quietly observing her reaction.
Maybe she has a knife there, I lay on my side of the bed, quietly, and gently my life depended on it, she sniffs again? Making my heart beat even faster, she crying yet doesn't want to share
“ how did your lover die?”
She hesitate? But eventually answered, “ He died because of me”
Edit
The was expected, if she hasn't broken a fuckin glass mirror with her bate hands, and wiped the hell out of me, I wouldn't have belived
“ why “
She sniffs again, and begins cry this time it was obvious, i don't know what's wrong, all my life the only intimacy I had decided to have were the ones I create with the women who were down for a quick fuck and nothing more.
“ don't be scared of killing me too, I will die eventually” I says, moving close to her, I imagine her tender skin once more and warmth blossomed in my heart
“ how soon?”