Sweet Disaster

5| Name

Indie

"No." He shook his head again. "But I'm sorry in advance if I do." He paused, bringing his eyes to mine again. "Rip it." He smiled, starting to lean in. When he got too close, I started doubting if I'd made the right decision. 

So I closed my eyes to drown out stupid thoughts of regret. 

"I hope that's okay, Indie." 

My eyes snapped open, meeting his directly. 

He chuckled, leaning in, and pressed his lips to mine. He started kissing me but I had no idea how much I kissed back. Or even if I did. He'd just called me Indie. For the first freaking time since I'd met him, he'd called me Indie. He pulled away to look at me. 

"You just called me Indie." I stared, dumbfounded. 

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Isn't that your name?" 

"It is. But you never call me by my name. You've never called me Indie before. So, why now?" 

He shrugged. "It seemed more fitting for the moment." 

"Why don't you ever call me Indie?" I was curious now. 

"Because everyone calls you Indie. Someone should call you Indigo; might as well be me. That's our thing, isn't it?" 

Isn't it? 

"Do you have any more questions about your name or will you actually kiss me now?" 

I snapped out of it, nodding. "Sorry." 

"Don't be." He shook his head. He grabbed my waist and pulled me forward, closer to the edge of the counter before smashing his lips against mine, much harder than last time. 

I actually kissed him back this time, grabbing a hold of his black V-neck. I didn't know why, but I was pleasantly surprised by the kiss. I always knew he was a player and I thought, okay maybe he was good in bed but there had to be something bad about him. So, he must have been a sloppy kisser. 

But no, he really wasn't. He knew exactly when to deepen it, when to soften it, when to hold it in the same way. He was kissing me like he'd kissed me before and knew exactly what to do. And he actually knew exactly what to do. At least that's how it felt. And it was driving me insane. 

His hands went to my ankles, where he somehow managed to unhook the strap and then pull my heels off, letting them drop to the floor. His lips moved away from mine but started trailing down my jaw and neck, settling in one spot. Simultaneously, his hands started sliding up my back, looking for the zipper. He found it and pulled it down but it definitely got caught because he huffed, pulling back to look at me. "I'll rip it, I swear to God." 

"Don't." I clicked my tongue, pushing him away. I reached behind me, finding the zipper, and zipped it back up a little before yanking it all the way down. "There." 

His lips found mine again and he didn't take the dress off immediately. His hands just roamed up and down my body over the fabric of the dress. And that confused me because guys didn't usually pay so much attention to foreplay. They were always eager to just throw the dress off, get me naked, and get it done. But he was really taking his sweet time. 

What am I even doing? This is so not the right thing, I know that. But I'm still not stopping. 

I tugged at his V-neck but he didn't stop kissing me and he didn't take it off. I tugged harder and he even smiled against my lips. But he didn't fucking take it off. I groaned, pulling away from him. 

"Tell me something." 

"You always want me to tell you something," I whined, running a hand through my hair.