The Color of Her Lips

Chapter Eleven

Michael

Of course Ariana said "No way!" I should've known that, but what's the big deal with fake-dating for a few evenings? I don't understand. It's not like we've got to kiss all the time and have sex.

Now she's pissed we're sharing the room. It's my fault. When the secretary of Mr. Brown called she'd told me that Ari was invited too, and I told her that we're a couple and that we could share the room. I didn't tell Ari because I knew she would fuss over it.

Ariana claps her hands twice, making me jump. "So, let's make some rules, right?" she says, trying to sound calm but she sounds all but that.

"You make them," I shrug. I'll make her stick to my rules anyway, whether she wants it or not.

She licks her natural colored lips and shallows visibly. "Okay." She thinks them over and I plop down on the bed, leaning my back on the headboard, crossing my ankles and my hands behind my head. "Okay, first one," she finally says. "You sleep on the left side and I on the right and we're not allowed to cross the middle of the bed, got it?"

I chuckle and say, "Got it. Second one?" I ask her jokingly.

She doesn't get the joke and flashes me a glare as she counts the rules on her fingers. "Second one. Hands. Off. Each other."

This time I laugh out loud. "Oh God, Ari. This is ridiculous. And awkward," I tell her.

"It's not. I want to make things clear."

I shake my head. "This is..." I can't find the words. Then I try to hide a grin. "Can I ask you something?" She, of course, rolls her eyes. "Who told you I won't keep my hands off you? I actually never touched you."

"Do you know what temptation is?" she retorts, narrowing her eyes on me.

"Sure, but—honestly?—I wouldn't be tempted by your body when you talk to me like that."

She tilts her head to the side and crosses her arms over her chest, making her breasts stand out more prominently. "Like what?"

"Like you're my boss, with that superior attitude of yours, as if you're better than anyone."

"Is this what bothers you?" She sits on the edge of the bed, watching me.

"Yes," I say. No, that's what tempts me more; I want to shut your mouth with my tongue, I think instead.

"You have to deal with it, there's nothing else to do."

"Good. Any other rules?" I say, lifting my eyebrows.

She keeps listing a few more pointless rules, because there's no way that I would step in the bathroom with her inside or have the amazing idea to take a shower with her. Yeah, I would fantasize about it but would never really do it.

"Now I'm tired, so turn around, I'm going to change," she says. She opens her luggage and takes out the classic Victoria's Secret pajamas.

She is giving her back to me, so I don't really need to turn around. Remaining seated on the bed, she takes off her tight red jumper, revealing her natural tanned skin of her back and the clasp of her bra.

And she does the sexiest thing ever. She moves her hair on her right shoulder and unclasps her bra.

Oh God. I'm so fucking tempted right now. Even though most of the time she can be mean and unbearable, Ariana Scarlett Quinn is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

She turns her head to look at me. "I told you to turn around. Stop staring," she says with a grin.

"Do you realize you've just unclasped your bra in front of my eyes?"

She puts on her pajamas shirt. "What's the problem then? You said that you wouldn't be tempted yourself," she teases.

Ugh. I hate her right now. I hate how much I crave her body right now and how much I'm aching.

"Just get dressed and get under the sheets already," I say, frustrated. I get up and start undressing. I take a clean pair of sweatpants from my luggage and put them on. I usually sleep shirtless. I get under the covers.

But as I sleep shirtless, she sleeps without pants, and she's wearing thin black panties. She slips under the covers and my dick twitches, knowing she's just two feet away from me.

She's killing me. I feel like she's doing it on purpose, that she's taunting me for fun, because she knows the power she holds.

• • •

Ariana

Knowing to have Michael DeAngelis in the same bed as you is a whole different kind of stress.

He's been fast asleep for about an hour and a half, but I've not. I'm tired but I can't sleep with him being this close to me.

It's too much of a temptation this proximity, but I can't fall into the trouble. I enjoyed to taunt him earlier, if we were in other circumstances I probably would've gone further than that.

I turn on my side, facing him. His features are relaxed and his dark brown hair are messy. It seems soft and I want to touch it so bad.

Suddenly, he sighs deeply and scoots closer to me, laying on his right side and his hands only inches away from me.

I turn around, giving my back to him. I need to sleep and to forget about him, I say stubbornly in my head.

I close my eyes and don't open them, until, eventually, I fall asleep.