Mason Adler is a rich boy, too well developed for his own good. His parents being the well settled, striking pair of a lawyer and a doctor, raise the standards when they move to a new block in the higher circles of the Upper East Side, where the hou...
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"Oh, don't do this." She held onto his arm as he squeezed her hand, walking her through the crowd.
"Hey, don't you trust me?" He looked back at her.
"No." She answered.
He chuckled and kissed her hand.
"You kiss a lot."
"I think I've got the license now."
"Bitch." She muttered.
"Well, I can be your bitch."
"Ugh, I'm gonna throw up."
"Hey, I'm not that repulsive."
"Dear, you have no idea."
"Now who's a bitch?"
"I've always been a bitch." She shrugged. He paused and twirled her around. She landed in his chest.
"What?" She asked.
"Nothing." He grinned, "I'm just reminding you that now, I don't have to warn you before I kiss you."
She gulped.
"What if I don't want you kissing me?"
"Then you can slap my mouth away. But I don't think thats ever-"
She slapped his mouth away.
He frowned. She snorted and laughed in herself.
"I still think dancing together is a bad idea." She gulped, "I'm not exactly your type."
"My type? Shut up, Stormy." He grumbled. She sighed and then nodded, chewing on the inside of her lip, "Stop that. You'll draw blood there." He tapped her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb and started moving when she stopped him, "What?" He whispered. She brought her thumb up and cleaned his upper lip.
"My lip colour." She pursed her lips.
"Well, leave it. I like the shade."
"Shut up." She snickered. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in.
"Come to think of it, we are already on the dance floor." He muttered and she looked around, realizing that too.
"Shit." She mumbled.
"Raina?"
She gulped away, as if lost in the crowd around them.
"Stormy?"
"Huh?" Her head snapped to him.
"Breathe." He snickered, "Why are you more tense than you were before?"
"I'm not tense." She shrugged, unable to make the movement in her shoulders.
