"I know you're not sleeping."
Will this man ever shut up? He has been asking me all kinds of questions for an hour now. Of course I haven't said a word to him the whole time. I am currently sitting in the front seat again after he finally moved a little away, letting me pass him.
"Shut up," I say with my eyes still closed.
A low chuckle comes from the back.
"Why are you so mad?" He asks and poke my cheek.
I slap his hand away and turn my head so that I'm glaring holes in his head.
"How bloody old are you? We are snowed in a car, for only god knows how long, and you are acting like nothing is wrong. I am mad because you didn't let me open the damn door and now we are going to die, because no one will ever find us."
My voice gets louder and louder for each word until I'm practically shouting.
John doesn't look the least affected by my words. Actually he looks amused by my current state.
"Look Sammy, don't worry. When the storm is over, someone will come and get us," he says and start to get up so he can sit in the passenger seat.
He hisses a little when his side comes in contact with the seat, and then he slumps down.
"Who? Who are going do get us? And that isn't even our biggest concern, because now the air-condition is full of snow and this car will be really cold, really fast," I yell.
My glare is still on him, as he starts to smirk back at me.
"I got everything under control," he says and fixes a little on his watch.
I scoff and arch an eyebrow at him.
"When men say they have control, usually means their egos has taken over their brain. The actual truth is that I am going to die in a car with a man so arrogant that I want to punch you every second."
He shrugs.
He actually just shrugged, as if he doesn't even want to argue with me. That's it, I'm dead. Well it's just so typical to die just when you have gotten a good job and a good apartment, or as good as it can get for a twenty-three-year-old.
"How old are you anyway?" I ask with narrowed eyes.
This man can't be a day over thirty, well actually he almost looks my age.
"Twenty-six, you?"
I hesitate a little. He must have seen this and shakes his head with an amused smile.
"Sammy, if we're going to die, which we're not, then what's the point of me not knowing things about you?"
Well he sort of has a point.
"Twenty-three," I mumble and lean my head on the head-rest.
He frowns at me.
"What?" I ask, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"You don't look a day older than eighteen," he mutters and drags a hand over his chin.
"I've heard that before. Well it might be because I was just going to have a calm ride so I didn't care to put on some God damn make up," I mutter angry.
"Oh I didn't notice."
His voice suddenly turns a little huskier and he smirks at me, again.
"Oh no you don't," I say and point at him.
"Don't what?"
His face remains the same, and his voice still low.
YOU ARE READING
Dangerous Attractions
Romance"You can't change my mind," I say through gritted teeth, trying to keep in another moan. "I don't have to." He brings his head away from my neck, his eyes meeting my own. They are dark and his smirk still on his face, only becoming deeper and deepe...
