The Baby Blue Bentley {Russell Westbrook}

Chapter X

After Russell took me out to a Japanese restaurant, we got back into his car. I found this whole thing, very strange. Why would Russell take me out to a Japanese restaurant? I really hoped nobody saw us, if it got out to the press and Sean saw, that was the last thing I needed on my plate right now. I was hoping he was now going to take me back to my sister's, but I realized this wasn't going to be the case when he turned south on the interstate. Desiree was probably wondering where the hell I was, considering my phone was dead, my car was at her house and I really didn't have any friends here at all.

"Do you have a car charger? For my phone?" I asked, sheepishly. I didn't know why I was so intimidated to ask Russell for things, I just was. He was intimidating.

"You don't need one," He said, keeping his eyes fixated on the highway ahead. I watched him and kept my eyes on him until he noticed. He turned his head to look at me and narrowed his eyes. "Don't look at me like that it makes me want to pull the car over and take advantage of you right here." I groaned, trying to hide the clear smirk on my face. I didn't think he could see it in the darkness. I did the unthinkable.

I reached over in between Russell's legs and grabbed his junk. Woah, it really was a handful and quite large. "Russell... I really, really, really need that charger," I whined. I could feel him beginning to grow hard at the contact with my hand. He looked over to me, as I stuck out my lower lip.

"It's in the glove compartment," He muttered. I took my hand out from his lap and grabbed the charger, finding the car outlet and sticking it in.

"Glad you could see it my way," I mocked.

"You're not ready for all this, Monica, so slow your roll," Was that a sense of humor in Russell's voice? Was that really? Or had I been completely mistaken?

"Wow, did Russell Westbrook seriously have a sense of humor in his voice? Does Russell Westbrook actually have... emotions?" I thought he would be pissed at me by joking about that but he actually laughed and shoved my shoulder playfully. I was taken by complete surprise. This man had to be bipolar or something. This was the first time I had ever seen him like this.

"I have a lot actually, I just don't like sharing them with new people... I... It's stupid," He shook his head and continued to drive. I looked at him, curiosity winning over my better judgment. I didn't want to push Russell, he was sensitive, no matter how much he wanted to seem like a hard ass with no emotions. He loved to have that profile. But as I spent more time with him, I realized the man who I thought was so mysterious, perplexing and cold-hearted; wasn't so mysterious and cold-hearted at all. He cared. He just didn't want anyone to know.

"No, you can tell me," I assured him. He didn't say anything at first which made Monica think that maybe she shouldn't have pushed him, and now he was going to go off on her as usual.

"You know Monica Jones, you're different. You're very different. I haven't ever met a girl quite like you," He said. That had took me by total surprise. Was that a compliment? As if reading my mind, "And that's a compliment."

"How am I different?" I asked him.

"Normally when I would say something like that to someone, they wouldn't ask me why or tell me that I could trust them and tell them," He admitted. I nodded along with him. "People just don't give a shit about other people anymore. It's like, 'oh, you're hurting? That's cool. Well, the waiter this morning gave me cheese on my egg sandwich when I asked for no cheese.' I even told my own damn brother I was hurting a year ago, and he just pat me on the back and said I'll get over it. People only care about you if you have money or you're dying. I'm just saying you're different. A good different. Because you care. It's good you're not one of the heartless zombies walking around out here. Sorry for rambling..."

"You don't ever have to be sorry, I'm always here to listen," I assured him. My phone buzzed, but I was too absorbed in the conversation to notice it. "Russell, why are you so keen on hiding your emotions from everybody?"

"I'll get hurt," He simply replied. "I always do... But those stories are for another time."

Russell pulled off from the highway and onto a dark road filled with large houses, "What if we never get to talk about this another time?"

"We probably won't," He smirked to me and pulled into a gated driveway. He punched a code into the keypad and then the gates began to open.

"This is your house?" I asked a little too excitedly. I couldn't deny I was excited to see Russell's house.

"No, I just know the code for some random person's house," He said, sarcasm filling his voice. "This is my house." He drove up the driveway slowly, building anticipation for me. The house was beautiful and huge. Way bigger than what I expected. I thought this guy was one of those mediocre NBA players? Maybe I had to do my research on him, find out what him and his whole team is really about. The house was made up of brown stone. It was absolutely stunning. There had to be at least three stories, maybe four. Russell parked his car outside of the driveway, as I jumped out of the car. I walked around the car to see a better view of the house.

"Your house is beautiful," I complimented, gazing around.

"Almost as beautiful as you," I heard him mutter a couple feet behind me.

"What?" I asked, turning around, a nervous smile planted on my face.

"What? Nothing," He said, brushing past me and getting out his house key. "I hope you're not afraid of dogs." He opened the door and turned on all the lights.

"Nope, I love them," I assured him. I heard a tail beating against a cage to see a large puppy waiting in a cage for Russell. Russell walked over to the puppy.

"Hey, Buddy," He cooed as the puppy jumped up, licking him. His puppy took no time running over to me, licking me.  "Down, Buddy," He warned, giving him a light tap on the snout.

"He's adorable," I said, scratching the puppy behind his ears. "But Buddy? So original." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I couldn't think of anything else, I'm terrible at naming my pets. I named my first dog, Fish," I laughed and covered my mouth, trying to stop.

"Oh God, that's terrible, terribly cute," I corrected. He smiled at me as he watched me play with Buddy. I looked up at him, as he was still smiling at me. He forced back his smile and coughed nervously. Why was Russell acting so nervous now?  He was acting so different.

"Would you like the grand tour?" He asked me, and I nodded excitedly. I followed him around the house as he showed me his gym, pool in the back, hot tub inside his house, and finally we ended up in his bedroom. Buddy had stopped following us on the second floor. Russell grasped my chin and connected our lips. The kiss was slow and passionate. Slow... and passionate.
What the hell had gotten into Russell? I felt his hands travel down my back and squeeze my butt hard and then slapped it. His other hand lifted my shirt above my head and I let him take it off willingly, exposing my bra. He began to kiss all over my chest and suck. He unsnapped my bra smoothly from the back, exposing my breasts. He kept sucking, toying here and there. Sean was the last thing to cross my mind.