Chapter Twelve

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Hands on your body, I don't wanna waste no time...


He's hurt. A one year old rejected him and he's fucking hurt by it. Who the hell is he anymore, Boran wonders as he stares out the car window, unable to meet Miray's eyes after a while. She's watching him as if she knows and he's so ashamed by it he wants to hit something, and he doesn't really consider himself a violent person.

Boran wonders if Alihan would have pushed Kubilay's hand away. Of course he wouldn't, Kubilay is his 'father'. Of course he is. Boran has the most irrational urge to go back and grab the baby and scream at him "ME! I'm your father, not HIM! You're MINE!" Right, because that's what good fathers do. Scream at their babies. If he ever imagined he would make a good father, this pain disabused him of that thought. What kind of father gets mad at a one year old?

He makes his way with Miray to their seats by the catwalk and the cameras and paparazzi are going insane in their direction because getting shots of them together are like spotting a damn unicorn for the tabloids. He hates this. He's okay one on one with fans because for the most part they're respectful and just like to tell him they like his work, or are freaking out too much to get invasive. A swarm of paparazzi though... Shoot him now. This is why it would be a nightmare if they ever became a public couple. Miray is so much better at this than he is. A bright smile and a wave and she just has that look about her where she's having a grand old time with the photographers while not acknowledging any of the pushier vipers. She has a gift with her smile and sweet nature of making the more legit journalists protective of her and keeping the vipers away. If that has changed since Alihan was born, she hasn't let him know, but he wants to punch those that shout out questions about the little boy when they're outside. Miray hasn't gone public with him yet and Boran tries to pretend he doesn't know why.

Ipek has left them to head backstage and Boran sits next to Miray, thinking this whole night was a damn mistake. What is he doing here? He usually hates this stuff but the chance to be out with Miray, spend time with her in public was too tempting to pass up. Now it's own kind of hell because he wants to put his arm around her. He wants to touch her.

Flash!

Flash!

Flash!

For fuck sakes.

Miray turns to them with a smile that makes even Boran unable to resist smiling back because she's so damn beautiful she makes his heart hurt. She wraps a friendly arm around him and pulls him forward to face the cameras with her.

"It's okay," she whispers in his ear, imperceptible to the others. She knows he hates this because he knows him that well. "They'll go in a sec."

She smells amazing. Something softly floral mixed in with her own scent that still lingers in his sheets when she leaves him. He tries to calm the lower half of his body and is glad it's so dark. It takes steel will to not turn and nuzzle his face in her hair as they give the photographers enough of what they want that they will hopefully leave the two of them alone for the rest of the night.

The event organizers warn the photographers back towards the runway to focus on why they're actually supposed to be here. The lights dim but Boran can't completely relax because he knows the sneakier of the snakes will still try to capture an unguarded moment if they can. Miray leans back and the hem of her dress rides up just a little on her thigh and he swells just that bit more in his pants as a whisper of lust curls in his belly. She moves her hand to her dress to pull it down and he says it before he can stop himself. He brushes his finger against the back of her hand and he's not even sure she can hear him because he doesn't want to speak too loud and risk the person one seat over from him hearing. "Leave it."

Her hand stills. She heard him. She gives him a look, part worry, part aroused, but then quickly faces forward again as the show begins. He tells himself not to do it. Yet he can't help touching her, just a little. The back of his finger slips down between their seats and touches the bit of her exposed thigh. Her smooth flesh tenses against finger and he forces himself to face forward as well. If anyone looks their way, they would suspect nothing, Boran is sure. The temptation is too great. Just to touch her. Nothing too risky. She doesn't look at him but Miray's lips part and her tongue licks the bottom lip just a little. It's the hottest damn thing and Boran shifts in his seat. Oh she has him. This tiny girl has him by the balls and he should try and fight it harder but it feels too damn good. The way she looks at him when he's inside of her, like he's the most perfect thing in the world to her, like he's a fucking king, the way those beautiful blue eyes shine hot and her soft creamy skin turns pink all over. He wishes the room was brighter so he could see if her cheeks are pink, naturally pink in a way different from her makeup.

She doesn't want him to stop. God, if they were alone, he'd have his fingers up beneath her dress and inside of her, fucking her until she screamed. For now, his fingers can only stroke just that bit of exposed thigh between their seats. He tries to look around ever so carefully, trying to look casual while being careful. Boran reaches his foot ever so slowly towards her and hooks it around hers, dragging it towards him so that her knees spread just a little.

Her breath quickens, her breasts rising and falling against her dress. He could spend days on those beautiful breasts if she'd let him. He opens his palm against the side of her bare thigh and squeezes. Miray's eyes are on the catwalk but her throat works as she swallows. Boran moves his hand up just a bit more and he sees her catch her bottom lip with her teeth. The move is a bit riskier and they both know it. A beat of disappointment hits his insides and he's going to pull his hand back but she reaches for it. Her hand moves down between them and catches his, linking her fingers around his just long enough to pull his hand up higher on her thigh until he's almost resting it on her lap.

He's so hard he's gonna burst through his pants. It's almost painful and he shifts in his seat again, the action bringing his hand inadvertently towards the inside of her thigh. Her eyes flutter closed and he feels her tremble against his hand. He can feel the heat between her legs just for a second but it's enough to make his vision go blurry. He needs to fuck her. Boran's mouth goes dry and the urge to drag her off and bury himself inside of her is almost superhuman in its power.

Boran struggles to remember where they are, fights to regain some semblance of sanity. The risk is too high. Pull back, easy, easy, man, he thinks to himself. For her. He stops because the risk is too high for her even though, just like that little boy, he wants to grab her and scream that she belongs to HIM! One last squeeze and he lets go of her thigh. "Come to me tomorrow," he whispers in her ear, his eyes on the runway as if he's talking about what they're seeing.

She nods and runs her foot briefly down the back of his leg before bringing her legs together once again.  


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