I feel wet kisses on my hair. Fingers curl around my waist. Their sweaty, eager, wanting and I remember the touch of the guy on me last night, so aggressive and evil. I jerk out in my sleep. What happened? I attempt but don't manage to lift my head up still so sore and I remember how much I drunk last night, I barely manage to crack my eyes open. I'm on the mattress, we're on the mattress. His knuckles come up to stroke my face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He mumbles into my back, tears and sniffles blend into his voice. Tyler. He's still here. I don't think he realizes I'm awake. Should I tell him? "I'm okay." I manage and his torso stiffens. Leaning up to see my face I see his face, a little bruised on his eye with tears soaking his cheeks and dripping down his smooth unshaven jaw. The other guy must've got him quite good, although I'm sure his injuries are a lot worse with the way Tyler got him. Considering how much I did drink, I still remember quite a lot, too much for my liking. The punching, the anger, my screaming. I shiver. I curl my hand around his finger and he sniffs some more tears back. Why's he crying so much? He bundles me up in a hug and weirdly feel too overdressed under my bed covers - he didn't undress me last night which I'm glad of, but I blush at remembering my short leather skirt and tank top. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't get there earlier, I could've stopped-" "No." I stop him, he couldn't of. It's happen to me worse, especially in Orleans and Atlanta. I mean it's Vegas for Christ's sake. That's the thing with Tyler, I think, he thinks everybody is good. I wish I was more like that.

The rest of the morning he makes me breakfast and we eat in-between him apologising. "By the way you got some mail." Pointing to the table, Meh, I'll look at it later. Probably more pizza coupons and Debt letters. "Thank you." I smile at him. "For the mail?"He adds, frowning. Ha the dumb fool. Shaking my head at him. "No, for last night. If you hadn't turned up - I don't know." His face suddenly hardens, he doesn't want to think about it, and God, neither do I. "It's fine. I think I showed him a pretty good lesson afterwards." He smiles proudly. That he did, I get flashbacks again of him kicking and punching - I did not expect that from such a...sensitive man. But he's surprised me - and I like it. I touch his bruise near his eye, a faded but still obvious pinkish colour with some blood stains. He inhales as I touch it and I move the plates with leftover Waffle and Syrup of the mattress so I can lean up - to kiss it better. He doesn't inhale sharply but instead closes his eyes. "I mean it, Thank You." He smirks, accepting my thanks. Good boy. And I'm not done kissing.

I realize I've missed him. He's still in his bloodstained clothes - but somewhere manages to look so gentle with his puppy dog pout and wide eyes. I want him. I've missed him. He saved me. Kissing down his neck, tracing his jaw line with my mouth he stifles a moan and flips me onto the mattress, so he's hovering over me. "I missed you, Mallory." I know. I missed you too. And he seems to read my mind and trails kisses down my chest. "I love your uniform." He smirks breaking the serious overtone, his boyish teeth at me looking down at my barely covering shorts and tank top - I blush and giggle hard. He keeps the trails of kisses going, down my stomach, back up to my chest, down my neck, around my ear, back to mouth - and it's heaven. Every now and then he'll flick his tongue out and look up at me under his lashes to weigh up my reaction - he aims to please. Wrapping my legs around his back I grin at myself - this should get him going. He growls lightly while kissing down to my navel and pulls my shorts from underneath me, grabbing hard on my behind. Damn, I want him. The cocktease. "I hate the fuckers who get to stare at you like this more than me." This is a side to him I've never seen before, aggressive, jealous, angry. Well I also saw a glimpse of him last night with the potential harasser. I knew that he probably didn't like my "occupation" - as he put it, and this confirms this. And I don't think I like it. But there is NO way I'm getting in a fight right now with my lower regions shouting out at me. Plus jealous Tyler is kinda - Hot. I've never had a guy want me so much. And not just in the sexual way it feels either. He grabs my behind even harder - from jealousy or arousal I'm not sure. I lay panting as he kisses every inch of me - concentrating on the facial expressions that move over his face and trying to work them out - work him out. Why is he here? Why does he want me? I think we need to date more. Talk more to each other, without all the drama. And I can't believe I'm telling myself this while a hunk of a man is straining in his jeans squirming above me. And then my serious arousal kicks in.

Grabbing his tousled, slightly blood ridden hair, I force his lips against mine, the movement, our tongues together. His hands roaming up my legs, to my thighs, under my panites, over my clit - Oh, that's good. My moans eager him on. He makes comments occasionally, mostly "Oh yeah baby" to "Fuck yeah", and I giggle to myself remembering how posh and upper class he normally is. He finally has too much foreplay and strips himself of his shirt, some bruises lay over his chest and neck, bottle green coloured - I hope they'll fade soon. He then rids himself of his jeans and his Calvin Klein's that cling to every glorious inch of him. I bite my lip hard as he undresses and remove my tank top - now just laying fully in my smiley face teal panties I remember Doug bought me. "Well you're a fine sight there, Miss..." And formal posh Daddy's Boy Tyler is back. I like him. "You're not too bad yourself, Sir." He crookedly smirks at my endearment and leans over me, inches from my face. "You could get better though." I frown, what does he mean? Does he want me to change? Change jobs? He laughs loudly, noticing how in-depth I've thought of this. Was it an insult? And soon I realize he just meant he wants me out of my remaining clothing - the panties. I blush and cringe at my self-deprecation as he slides them off. "Perfect." He strokes my hair lovingly and kisses me deep - his tongue eager for mine, pushing against me, and then he's in me - filling me. Oh fuck me, it's good. Every inch, and he moans into my ear as he slides more in, pouring his weight onto me. Grasping at one of my legs, he slings it across his waist and he doesn't want to wait. He thrusts hard, his eyes gazing into me and I feel insecure. I slam my eyelids but he notices. "I want to see you. Open your eyes." And I do as I'm told, liking Dominant Tyler. He breathe harshly into my mouth thrusting harder, keeping his gaze on me - but soon it seems too much and he moves away, the heavy pants overtaking him and him jaunting his hips wilder, filling me more. Crap! He's so good. How does he do it? And my subconscious thinks it might be more emotional than physical - something I've never had and I brush that thought away as I feel myself rise. He steadies two sweaty palms on my hips as he lifts and lowers me onto him and his perfect pace and now his eyelids are slammed in concentration. Now slower, but deeper. So deep. Glints of sweat drip down his torso over the M of Michael as I concentrate all my attention on him. Every inch, every gut feeling I have rising up. Higher, and Higher. "Tyler-r-r-r!" I scream out, all my senses slamming down and I feel the sweat on my chest and his face back on my neck, smirking into me, he's still in me. I faintly heard him scream out the same time as me and I realize most of my past experiences I've faked it - wanting it to be over already. Never knowing it could be this good.

We lay there for the rest of the day, from 9 to 5. We do it twice more, shower and floor. He's very tiring to keep up with - but I couldn't be more happy to oblige my services. By 6pm I'm curled up on his chest again, and we talk about last night - he apologises again and I ignore it. I don't want to think about it, or remember it. Jason will be freaked out when I tell him and I ask myself if I really should. He may be able to work it out of me anyway, we don't keep many secrets. And then I realize the reason we weren't talking before he saved me again - New York. "When are you going back to the big NYC then?" I dread to ask but it can't last forever, not much ever does. "Well you never let me explain before you sprinted out of my apartment. Aidan is going back on Friday. But especially after last night's events - I'm staying for now." He's staying? I seem to gleam a megawatt smile and nuzzle into his chest. Well I won't miss Aidan, that's for sure. I've probably judged him too harshly but I'm 100% sure on my decision that he's a prick. "What about last night? And you don't have to stay. I know that Ally girl is back there." I remember him faintly talking about her, maybe he stills likes her and I reject the thought immediately. "I know you're strong but I want to be here, to protect you. And don't hate me for saying that. And she's history." To protect me?! I've been on my own since I was 15, protection I don't need. But then I remember last night and don't fight against him, instead giving into his warmth and comfort on the mattress. Giggling at the parallels of my room and his reflective gold hotel room.

Gazing down at the microwave and quickly taking out the pizza before it hits one second - I'm such a pro. And I hope Tyler likes Pepperoni Pizza. Well - slightly burnt pizza. He's laying motionless on the mattress watching Family Guy and laughing at Stewie and Brian, his laugh is adorable. He looks nothing of the Daddy's Boy I remember when I first met him, now he's got blood stained jeans on, shirtless, laying a old springy mattress drinking warm Walmart beer. Maybe I've changed him. Then I contemplate the stupidity of that sentence. Me change someone? Nope. Never. If anything he's made me tolerate him more by him being sweet and saving my ass. "Didn't you say I had post?" He doesn't look at me and concentrates on the TV. Earlier he was concentrating on me cumming for him. I blush immediately. Shut up, Mallory. "Yeah, on the table." I slide over there, having put my shorts and bra back on. Bills. Bills. Pizza Coupons. A letter? Maybe it's for that women with the kids upstairs, our mail gets mixed up a lot. But it says my name. Well kinda. "Mallory (Alison)" is scrawled in neat handwriting on the front. WTF? But nobody knows my real name but Jason, and - Doug. And Lois. And I freeze , my heart melting. They've found where I live.