Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A large traveling ship, that had four levels, meant for wealthy and stupid kooks, gave us a comfortable and safe ride down to Welmighton with no trouble. Filled with many adults who had summer outfits, excited to explore the new land, holding cocktails, and strong alcoholic beverages. The small bar across from our small white square table, covered under the platform of the strong boat floor above, was constantly earning new customers at every moment. I volunteered to pay for the pouges with ease, knowing most of them don't have this kind of money on them. But nearly five hundred dollars down my mother's credit card account. However it was all for the gold of Pope's loved one, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
We were all sat on the third level, outside, sensing the warm sun from above lying on my toned and sunburned back, resulting in me shuffling around in pain at the tingling feeling.
Cleo, who was wearing a dark army green tank top, and denim jeans, with her curly hair tied back, was seated beside Pope, who wore a dark green button up, and short denims, in a little white booth section of our table.
Sarah, who wore a bright blue halter, with white jeans, and Kiara, who was dressed in a light green crop top, and super short jeans, that revealed her long legs, sitting beside each other. Soft hair flowed around the warm wind of North Carolina, occasionally peeking over to me while I sat with JJ, transmitting me a little wink.
We were all lowly conversing about the agenda we were going to conduct to get the large and hefty cross back to us, with no crisis, or no consequences.
Sometimes, my light and teasing eyes glanced over at JJ, discovering him tightly clasping his thick hands together over his lap, giving it a couple of squeezes. Until moments later, he placed the closest hand in between us, closer towards my glowing and soft thigh than his own.
Which set me off. He was vulnerable, and needy after he broke my heart in the chateau backyard, yet so was I. Regardless, I couldn't give into his needy touch like I almost did this afternoon. Our small moment in the bed was supposed to drive him crazy. My small teasing whispers, my warm breath, my attitude. It was all supposed to drive him mad. Which was why I kept my hand on my side and allowed him to do the touching.
This strategy was going to slaughter me in the end because of the ruthless choices I was going to have to make. But it's not going to hurt as much as it was going to hurt him. And I wanted it to hurt. That way, he knows I'm not one to be used and treated like garbage.
