She Kidnapped Me! |ON HOLD|

Chapter 14 - "I Understand Girls' Periodic Urges To Throw Themselves At Me."

Chapter 14 - "I Understand Girls' Periodic Urges To Throw Themselves At Me."

Alarice DeVega is kissing me.

For the second time.

And I'm sitting like an idiot.

That thought kicks my brain into action, and then, I'm responding to the kiss.

She wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me closer, her fingers tightening on her grip in my hair. I groan at the pinpricks of pain in my scalp and let my hands trail down her shoulders to her hips, holding her firmly as I dart my tongue out and lick the seam of her lips, deliberately taking control. She moans lowly into my mouth, caressing my tongue with an expert stroke that sends a full-body shudder through me.

Yup, that's the kinda kiss I'm talking about.

She breaks away suddenly—her arms still around my neck—gasping for air.

Oh yeah, humans do need to breathe occasionally.

I raise a brow at her as I take in slow deep breaths, smirking slightly—unable to help myself.
"So, I'm the 'cuteness' huh?" I breathe, my hands tightening around her hips.

Heat colours her cheeks a delectable shade of pink.

"Who?" She asks, feigning innocence as she slowly removes herself from me, moving away slightly. "I didn't say that you were cute! I was just . . . " She gulps, looking away, as she scoots away further; forcing me to release my grip on her, "Just . . . "

"Just kissing me because you couldn't keep your hands off me?" I ask sarcastically, puckering my lips in a teasing manner.

Whoa! Way to be cocky, Anders.

Maybe the wine is slightly showing its effects...

She rolls her eyes in a blasé manner, trying to appear unruffled. "I kissed you because I saw a reporter. I didn't want her to recognise us." She lies fluidly, leaning forward and running her hand through the hair on the back of my head, smoothing down the strands that she tugged at so a few seconds ago.

"Oooh, and where might that reporter be, right now?" I needle, craning my neck as I peek over her both shoulders quickly, jumping up when she tries to block my view.

"She . . . Um, She's gone! That's why I pulled back!"

"Uh huh,"

"I'm not lying!" She protests vehemently, shaking her head.

"It's okay, baby. I know I'm irresistible. I understand girls' periodic urges to throw themselves at me," I wink, ignoring her jaw dropping in shock, as I calmly turn around and sip on my wine.

"You . . . You . . ." She struggles to come up with a creative word, and I grin.

"The big bad future-CEO doesn't know how to cuuuurse," I sing childishly, accepting the bill when a maître'd places a leather bound envelope-like thing on our table discretely, trying to not disturb us.

"Wow, Alarice. You gonna pay this much for me? I think you're getting me all wined up, because you're planning to deflower me tonight." I state brazenly, rolling my eyes at the huge bill with too many zeroes as I close the leather envelope-thingy back.

Alarice splutters on her wine, coughing violently as the drink flows through the wrong passage. I face palm and quickly give hard taps on her head, trying to help as I grab a few tissues from the neatly designed arrangement of wipes in the middle of the wooden table.