HIS SEX TOY

Chapter Ten

"DO YOU LIKE to keep me waiting?" He smirked before his entire facial expression changed to mortification. What had he done? It was putting a rise to his blood pressure. Going down south. He had to get her out of it. No reason to make it obvious. "Well, that dress looks uncomfortable. I think I can find something to change in for you."

She spun around with a smile as he started to get up. "Of course not, I love how it feels," she looked up at him then, the sparkle in her eyes unmistaken. It took the air from his lungs having him feel as if right there stood the precious being he had ever set eyes on. Of course that was an irrational thought which should never be entertained. She was a wild flower. There was no way she would stick with him. He was just hoping for a memory with her; one she would remember. That only had him smiling before he could stop himself. He didn't know what was wrong with. Why was he smiling so much? No doubt that was what probably scared her. He would be scared too. Something he wasn't proud of, but he really didn't have one of the best smiles. So ironic since he was here pining after a girl that had the most beautiful smile in the world. Well, he wouldn't exactly say pining would be the appropriate word. He was a man after all. Men didn't pine.

That sounded even weirder in his head.

There was a time when he would sit and wonder.

Why were there so many limitations for society when the universe itself was limitless?

Was it then a lie? Did numbers actually have a limit? They should, shouldn't they? Because there must be a set number of stars, a set number of planets...

A set of memories that haunted him.

Was it too much to ask for? That this memory last forever? Instead of all the memories, the terrible parts of his past, that swarm in the forefront of his mind, he wanted to have the light of this woman in the midst of it all. Maybe then he would not die a sad man. As a matter of fact, it would make him wish for another day to live.

To live for her.

To relive that memory.

He knew it was a done deal. This was the girl he loved. The girl who replaced the gaping hole within him with light. With life.

With a heart.

She wrapped her arms around his torso, her hands now stuffed in the sleeves of one of his cashmere sweaters.

"When did you get into my sweater?" He asked and she pouted up at him, her lashes fully extended and around her eyes a bit puffy (why didn't he notice that before), looking absolutely breathtaking. Maybe it was the red of the sweater that complimented her.

But it hung off her in the way that a too big sweater would. Totally unflattering. Yet she remained to be the object of his desire. The very purpose of his uplifted mood. He sighed.

"You looked a bit upset staring out the window without even paying me any attention," she replied with that same pout which had him smiling even more than he often did. Was he poisoned or something? This could be the side effects before his death. Right? "Did I do something wrong?"

She now furrowed her brows.

Things were still a bit jumbled in his mind when it came to her. But he wasn't going to think about it. Although he was finding that difficult. Her arms loosened and he wasn't sure if her reaction was because of his facial expression or what.

"So I think we should stick to the first agreement." She blurted out as she unwrapped her arms from around him.

He looked so lost, as lost as she felt. Why was she suddenly interested in how he felt anyway? This was supposed to be a one night stand and then she would be back to trying to leave this country. Even though this was the only place she knew. She gazed up at him, this handsome man that she craved so badly. Not even her last boyfriend in high school made her this way. Yet he did. Was this apart of womanhood? Or was it because he wasn't pimply and immature?