Painting Paper Hearts | ✔

Chapter 12- The Sweet Escape and the Kitchen Mishaps

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Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the glare of the sun penetrating against my skin. With the bed very close by the window, it wasn't much of a surprise. I rubbed my eyes, pried them open as slow as possible then blinked, only to be welcomed by an unaccustomed room.

My eyes wandered around the well-lit part of the place. My eyes first landed at the sight of a desk and a chair, a first aid box on the wall—an old and rusty one to be exact, and a man's arm wrapped around me.

Wait, what?

Slowly, my awareness crept into me and felt a hefty weight on my side.

Right, we were locked in by Cedric and we had to spend the night. The hairs on my neck aroused from the hot breath blowing against my skin. The sound of his snore was faint but it was rather a charming sound to wake up like this.

The images from last night came back to me, one by one, without missing an important scene. It was as if I was replaying a scene in a movie.

From the awkward washroom conversation, the walk along the dark hallways, the warm touch of his hands as he guided me to the dark, the tickling that lead to the kiss.

That was some insane kissing.

It was breathtaking, toe-curling, and earth shattering kind of kiss. The kind that had sent jolting surge down my spine that could keep me up for days. His electric kiss sparked a fire within me and undoubtedly yearning more of it.

An inner debate was going on top of my head for one, I didn't want to move. I didn't expect much comfort in sleeping in a twin sized, bed but I would applaud our skill in making use of our space. We were resourceful, for the lack of better word.

Honestly, I couldn't believe how we survived the night with such cramp space and somehow (and almost magical in a sense), we managed.

With my back hard-pressed against his strong chest— the up and down motion of his breath, I could feel every beat of his heart— a soft rhythm, but loud with the silence all-encompassing us. I couldn't help but tuck in small smile when he unconsciously pulled me in, wrapping my petite body around his muscular arms, placed his chin on top of my head and went back to sleep once again.

But our position came with a vice. Like I said, I could feel everything. I mean everything— including what was going on down his private area.

Yes, this man was oblivious about his morning wood. I couldn't blame him since he was sleeping like a log.

It wasn't a displeasing sensation but rather an awkward situation for me to be in. In fact, Jack and I shared a few sleepovers (literally, just sleepovers) and this had happened to me in more than one occasion. Apparently, it was a natural phenomenon that (almost) all men had to endure all their life.

All of a sudden, I felt remorseful for all of the men in the world. To wake up every single morning with a hard on in between their legs must be a curse rather than a blessing.

The hard bulge pressing against my back was getting out of hand as it started to swell some more. It seemed like the bulge was getting bigger in size and I knew it was about time break Marcus's bubble.

I ran my wet tongue against my chapped lips, noting to self that I needed to drink a lot of water once we get the hell out of here.

"Marcus,"