“Don’t worry, Becca. We can order in something… What matters is that we’re here together, isn’t it?” He says, and I notice his eyes wandering down to my cleavage. Suddenly, I feel like a complete idiot for putting on a dress like this. What did I think would happen?
“I… I guess,” I stammer, reaching for two glasses of wine. As I set them on the counter, Robert proceeds to serve the wine. My heart kicks and punches against my chest as the sound of wine hitting glass reaches my ears. When I go for one of the glasses, I realize that my hands are shaking, and I have to take a deep breath. I take one long gulp, hoping that it will steady my nerves. With each passing second, I feel more and more uncomfortable about being along with Robert, and the fact that I was the one setting all this into motion doesn’t really help… I can’t exactly kick him out without looking like a complete bitch.
“What would you like to order in?” He asks me, going around the counter and closing in the distance between me and him. With each step he takes, my heart starts to pound louder, just like an alarm. “Or maybe we can think about that later…” He continues, lowering his voice and brushing two fingers against my cheek. I tremble as I feel his touch and, reacting by instinct, I take one step back, almost spilling the wine all over my dress.
“We can order now,” I blurt out, reaching for my cellphone while my mind goes into overdrive. I try and look for a restaurant that does home deliveries, but I can barely concentrate on what’s on the screen. Robert reaches for my phone and simply plucks it out of my hands, placing it on the counter.
“You’re nervous,” he whispers, smiling at me. “That’s okay. I’m a bit nervous too…” I gulp as he comes up at me and, taking another step back, I hit the fridge with my back. My eyes dart to his crotch, and I notice something bulging underneath his pants. Oh, God, I can’t believe that he’s already hard.
Coming up to me, he presses his body against mine, taking both hands to my face. As I feel his boner on my leg, I immediately react by pushing him back and stepping to the side. My mouth has suddenly grown dry, and I guess I can say the same thing about my pussy.
“Robert… I think you’ve misunderstood me,” I start, looking at him as I try to find the right words. I told him he could come over, I’m wearing a skimpy dress… And now I’m telling him that he has misunderstood my intentions? Well, that’s rich of me. Still, I don’t care - whatever I’m wearing, no man has the right to put a move on me without my consent. That’s right, I might be a lot of things, but I’ll never allow anyone to walk over me. Especially when sex is concerned.
“You’re just scared,” he continues, still walking toward me. The guy is relentless. “But you don’t need to be… I want you, Becca. I’ve dreamed of you every single night since I first saw you.” How do you spell creepy? Oh, right, R-o-b-e-r-t.
As if the universe conspired to save me from his advances, someone knocks on the door. I step out of his reach and walk hurriedly toward the door, turning the handle without bothering to ask who’s on the other side. My heart skips a beat as I see the man in front of me. Yes, I know what you’re thinking… And you’re right.#p#分页标题#e#
“Becca…” Mason says my name as he steps inside the apartment. In his clear blue eyes, I can almost see my reflection.
“Mason…” I say, my heart tightening up so much that I no longer know how in the world it continues to beat. He smiles tenderly at me, and then he notices that we’re not alone. He looks at Robert with one arched eyebrow, and I notice his eyes wandering to the bottle of wine on the counter. Finally, he look straight at Robert. His smile vanishes, and he purses his lips; I wish I could have a hole where I could hide right now.
He looks into my eyes, and I give him a weak smile. I’m sorry, I mouth, biting on my lower lip with regret. With a quick nod, I give him my assent to do what needs to be done.
“Get out,” he tells Robert, turning to him with a serious expression on his face. He’s completely relaxed, but I notice his hands balling into fists, almost as if he’s ready to crash them into Robert’s face at a moment’s notice.
“You can’t simply walk in here and --” Without bothering to hear what Robert has to say, Mason walks over to him and grabs him by the scruff of his shirt.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” He tells him, and I can almost see Robert shrinking in size. To have someone as imposing as Mason telling you to fuck off has be an intimidating experience. He opens his mouth to speak but, like a fish suffocating on too much oxygen, he simply closes it again. When Mason lets go of him, he straightens the collar of his shirt and, trying to act as dignified as possible - and failing miserably - he walks toward the door.