Chapter 31 - Weaknesses

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Quick side noteeeeee.

I know I said that I would end the story this chapter but....I decided one more wouldn't hurt! So next chapter will be the last! So enjoy?

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I lightly opened my eyes when I felt the weight of the bed shift. I saw Steven sitting on the edge, his back to me and his hand writing on a sheet of the paper. Very little light, came through the sheer shades but it was enough to radiate the room. I could see my fine art work on his back in the form of claw marks trailing down to his waist.

He looked so into whatever he was doing that it almost pained me to disturb him. Well it pained me to move because of his roughness last night anyway. I could only move my poof of hair from my eyes allowing it to fall on one side of my neck.

"Good morning," I grinned sweetly and he looked over his shoulder at me. The light catching those eyes and making them an exotic green.

"Surprised you're up, no one usually survives 3 rounds of Steven." He tucked the paper away in his drawer with a smirk.

3 rounds of Steven, As it turned out was the second addition to our sex session last night. And it was how I spent my first 5 hours into the New Year. If I thought the first round of sex was rough, it had nothing on the last two rounds. Which included using every inch of this room. And Steven having to go get a whole new set of sheets at seven in the morning.

I looked around at the strewn objects around the room. A broken lamp, knocked over nightstand, and our clothes thrown all over the place.

"Yeah well, it's a miracle."

He bent over gently kissing my lips before laying back down next to me. He pulled me on his chest and stroked my puff of hair.

"That it is," He pecked my forehead.

"So, does it feel good to be back in Chicago? Your hometown."

"More than you'll ever know," He chuckled. "I hate that goddamn New York. Taxis and rude people and flimsy girls."

"Hey watch it!" I smacked his chest. "Do I need to remind you that you're in bed with a New York girl??"

"Oh no you certainly don't, I can tell from your accent."

"Accent?" I laughed.

"Yes, all New Yorkers have accents."

"That is so stereotypical."

"Its true, but that's fine. I'm into the whole accent thing." He put his chin on top of my head. "Its quite sexy. Shows that you're pretty tough sometimes."

"Not really,"

"You should tell me about the last time you were tough, I'd love to hear your fifth grade stories."

"Shut up," I laughed.

"Well let me hear it, last time you had to get tough."

"Okay, fine. It was in high school. I was a sophomore, I wasn't very pretty or popular. I had braces and acne that my parents couldn't afford to get rid of. There was this girl named Becky Lynn. Cheerleader, blonde hair, banging body and for some reason she always picked on me." I sighed. "So anyway, one day she had all of her friends making animal noises at me and she kept calling me ugly. I got fed up and punched her square in the face."

"Oh man." He laughed loudly, His chest vibrated on my cheek. "Not that I don't like girl on girl action, but you could've used your words. Why not insult the bitch?"

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