His girl, their desire

Chapter 1. Three sexy guys are trying to kidnap me!

  "This was a mistake..." I whined for probably the millionth time as I shuffled my feet down the crowded street

People were everywhere, New York City was stressful. There were crazy people dressed up as animals that insisted you give your phone over for a picture, men were sitting at the front of streets video taping my butt, and I couldn't find a single place to sit down!!

You might be wondering, just maybe, if what I said in the prologue was true. I am indeed a model, and realised a few hit songs, but I was hiding my identity very well.

I had long blond hair that reached my waist, and I was never allowed to dye it. Hahaah, guess who dyed their hair purple?! A nice light lilac. Take that.

I was also wearing a mask, and no freaking makeup. Managers can kiss my ass.

The next hour of wandering made my head ache, until finally I reached a less crowded part of the city. My stomach grumbled and I touched it wincing. "I know, we're starving." I told my stomach and walked into a shop.

A little bell rung, and I looked around the coffee shop. It was so clean and bright. Fresh plants, large windows, chestnut tables and chairs, and a smiling hot guy at the front of the room!

This is the kind of guy I want to pin me to the wall and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Well hello there handsome.

Dark brown hair and bright wide brown eyes that reminded me of a crisp fall morning. He was tall, and a darker tone than my pale self.

Arabian perhaps?

He had an earing, a single diamond stud, and was smiling and chatting with an older woman who was ordering. Please, marry me. I pulled off my mask and tucked it away.

As the lady walked away, and I stepped forward, his expression slowly turned colder with each step. I smiled and looked up at the menu. "Can I have an iced coffee, extra whipped cream, and a blueberry muffin?"

He nodded shortly and reached down grabbing a cup. I caught sight of his name tag and frowned.

Kharif.

What kind of name is that? What language? "So, how long have you been working here?" I asked trying to be friendly.

He looked up and stared at me. I squirmed at his sharp gaze. "Why is there a bruise the size of an orange on your face?"

I cupped my face self consciously and gasped. "Uh, someone hit me, but I'm okay. It was an accident. No need to be worried."

He gave me a dull stare. "I'm not." As I stared in confusion he made me feel more stupid as he lips twisted in disgust. "Worried for you, I'm more concerned about the person who hit you."

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me?" I asked confused and furious all in one.

He scoffed and silently began making my coffee. Even though he wasn't very nice, he was still easy on the eyes.

His hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over, his eyes focused as he concentrated. Kharif looked like he enjoyed making coffee.

I sighed at the hotness before me. "Fuck me daddy."

The coffee dropped out of his hands with a loud wet sound. He head snapped up, and my words registered. I waved a hand laughing nervously.

"Sorry, just thinking about a book I read, I always make that comment, ahaha."

Kharif looked slightly disgusted, oh well. Kharif cleaned up before making me another coffee and handing me the muffin.

He made special care not to touch me while doing so. Well jeez, now I feel special and tingly all over.