Meet Lauren Pierce. Fiercely independent, beautiful and a perfectionist. The media loves to call her the 'ICE PRINCESS' because of how cold and unyielding she is, and she doesn't care enough to correct them. The only thing she cares about is her su...
Staring up at the ceiling, Lauren smiled to herself and wondered what she'd done to deserve this type of happiness. She'd lost her job, although that didn't make her poor by any means, and this hiatus had taught her a valuable lesson, embodied in the person laying next to her.
She turned a little so that she could see him more clearly, and his face was glowing in the dim light from the bedside lamp. She'd always thought he was handsome, a little too much for his own good actually, but he looked exceptionally beautiful today, his hair so soft falling across his forehead, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath.
She glanced at the digital clock behind him. 2:45 am. She couldn't remember what had woken her up, but she was glad she was awake so she actually think. Well, try to think, if he wasn't so distracting. How did she even manage to fall in love with this man? Yes, LOVE, she said it.
Now that she was here, her feelings laid bare in front of her, she had no excuses, no escape. She loved him. She had always been the type of person to believe in having your cake and eating it, and this cake was exceptionally delicious.
She couldn't stop thinking of last night, how rough he'd been with her- how much she'd loved it- and how gentle he'd been when they got back. He made her a warm bath, gave her a foot massage, and oh, the pillow talk! He had such a way with words, but most of all actions, and cuddling with him in his bed that smelled exactly like him was definitely her newest guilty pleasure.
She lay back down, and as if they'd been doing this forever, he pulled her closer in his sleep, her head on his chest. She listened to the beating of his heart and it lulled her back to sleep.
The sunlight filtering in through the window woke her up with a start, and she was halfway through getting up off the bed in a rush when she realized where she was. This woody, citrusy smell, the white roses on the bedside table, the warm hand pulling her back into bed with a sleepy mumble. Mark'sbedroom.
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"Where are you going?" a sleepy Mark inquired, sitting up.
"So sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she replied, swinging her legs off the bed. He made a face, taking her hand to stop her.
"You haven't answered me," he said, looking worried.
"The bathroom. I need to pee. What, did you think I was running off?"
"Like you did last time? Yeah I'm not taking any chances with you," he said, a smile he was trying to keep hidden creeping up on his face. She chuckled, knowing he was right. She needed an anchor right now, the giddiness in her chest making her so light she was surprised she wasn't floating. That would usually trigger her fight or flight response, and flight was looking exceptionally attractive right now.
He made a face, reading her intentions before she could act on them, but he let her go anyways, not without squeezing her hand assuredly first. He trusted her way more than she trusted herself, and for once she didn't want to disappoint him, so she walked to the bathroom and did what she had to do.
