Seventy Shades Of Steele

Seventy Shades Of Steele(15)

*Angelina's POV*

His face is turned to me while his arm circle around my waist, our bodies crushed together and I feel every inch of him. It's erotic and intimate. A little too intimate, an intimacy that has your heart getting attached and your mind comfortable. It kind of explains why I couldn't fall asleep. How could i miss this? The king of the business world looking like a devilish angel. Do that even make sense? A lot of things aren't making sense at this point. This must be a sign. I need to leave. Like right fvcking now.

Yet instead, I find myself gazing at the rough stubble on his chiseled jaw and then my eyes memorize those petal soft lips. I continue to gaze on his face, his entire face that looks relaxed for once and the difference is so startling that he almost looks ten times younger.

He looks almost innocent, not as innocent as a boy but more of an adolescent. His eyebrows then furrow and his lips purse. I wonder if he's having a bad dream. Before I can stop myself, I have my finger smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead and then my lips find his lips for a brief second. A brief second that leaves me breathless and wanting more.

Holy fvck!

He sighs, his muscular arm tightening around my waist before he finally relaxes again.

My nose now touches his and I try not to over think this, the feeling of us so close causing all kind of emotions to well up inside me. This is getting too much. I can't keep on torturing myself like this, holding onto something I know I can't have. My imagination runs too wild when it gets the chance. That helps me to write my songs and play with strong emotions, but it doesn't help my heart from breaking. I saw what happened to my mother when my father left. He didn't promise anything yet she gave him her all, her emotions tore her apart. I know I have that same vulnerable heart, one that falls too hard and fills with too much hope time after time. I won't be weak and be torn apart. He might be my first, but that's all he has to be.

Knowing a man like him, this won't continue and I can't have that shame to wear in the morning when he kicks me out. It will definitely haunt me forever even if the paparazzi don't get to snap a photo and post it online and plaster it on the front of magazines.

With that thought in mind, I purse my lips in determination and try to lift his arm from around my waist, but it's so damn heavy. He must work out like every freaking day for countless hours. Another reason I need to leave. A man that spends that amount of time working out thinks more of himself than anyone around him. He didn't strike me as the selfish type, but you never really know until after he got the cake. And he got the cake alright.

With another try, I finally manage to put some space between us. Enough so that I can slip out from under his arm. I manage to wiggle almost finding my way out, but then his arm tightens under my breast trapping me.

"Where are you going?" His husky voice breaks through the barely lit room, his foot now trapping me to the bed before he eases me back up the bed to face him. His eyes are wide open as he stares at me in question.

"I...I...um..." I can't believe I am fvcking stammering. This can't be happening. I feel as if I am caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I just really hope that my face doesn't look guilty. My bladder then chooses that time to want to burst and I squeeze my thighs together. "I need to use the bathroom."

At least that isn't a lie which I am grateful for. I am a terrible liar. He frowns at me before he sits up, the sheet moving down to his waist.

"All you needed to was ask," he says flatly and I bit my lip. I really could've asked, but...but...