Thief (n.g.)

Chapter 17

Babe's POV

I wake up rather  uncomfortably, and cold. My head hurts really bad. I sit up and open my eyes. I now notice I'm in Nash's car, and I'm on him.

Shit my shirt is off, and I'm wearing his jacket. His belt is unbuckled. Shit shit!

“Oh my God, oh my God." I repeat to myself.

“Shh, lay back down, I'm cold, and you took my jacket." Nash grumbles, his eyes still closed and he moves his hand looking for me.

“What happened last night?" I panic.

“Lay down and I'll tell you."

I do as I'm told.

His sleepy voice begins. “You got drunk, we kissed, we made out, you tried to have sex with me, but something was telling me not to, so we didn't. Simple as that." He wraps his arms around me as a child would a teddy bear.

I sigh of relief.

“So you think I'm hot, huh?" I chuckles.

“Oh my God." I whisper to myself.

“I found a lot out about you last night."

I can't decide if his voice is tugging more at my embarrassment or my nerves.

  “What all I say?"

“Enough. You weren't being very lady like, you kept pulling at my pants, you even managed to unbuckle my belt." He says. His voice turns to a pur. “One more pull, and I would have gave in."

I screw my eyes shut. This is so embarrassing!

“Would you have wanted me to?" He purs again.

I shake my head into his chest. My heart races.

“Are you sure?" His hand slides down to my butt. “Because you really wanted it last night."

I take a deep breath. “Well I don't now." I lift myself off him.

He chuckles. I guess he found this game of embarrassing me

fun.

“Oh c'mon Babe."

I climb to the front seat.

“Hey, watch your feet." He warns me.

I sigh as I lean against the window.

“Alright, fine. You want to go home?"

Home? Yes I would love to go home. But don't you remember? Your psychotic family held me hostage and gave me the option of death or to stay with them!

Oh how I longed to say theses words to him, but I decide against it and nod to his offer.

On our way back he taps his hands on the wheel to the beat of the horrible music he had playing. The cuts along his ruff skin make me cringe.

“You have pretty hands, wish mine were still like that."

“So where did you go yesterday?" He ask as he turns the volume down.

“What?" I say even though I heard him.

“Yesterday. Where did you go?"

“Just a random walk." I shrug. It was quite the lie because it was at first just random, but soon turned quite particular. But he didn't ask.

“Mhm." He hums. Letting me know he doesn't believe me. “So you're one of those mystery girls? No body knows where you go, what your name is, you're like this little box of secrets, waiting to burst."