Chapter 42: Paradise (M)
"Baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen my white shirt?"
"Maybe?!" I tease, biting my lower lip. The bacon sizzles on the pan before me. I don't always wake up early to make breakfast, but after last night, I'm now too amped to sleep longer. I scrape the bacon off the pan and onto a plate, turn the stove off before setting our breakfast on the table. As I take my seat, Mark comes bouncing down the stairs, his footsteps heavy as he makes his way to the kitchen. I watch his smile grow wider upon seeing me. "I think I'm keeping this one, thanks!" I shrug. I found the shirt he wore for the fansign in Yeouido in the laundry basket and immediately tried it on. It stills smells like him. Like body spray and lavender. I like the way his shirt falls halfway down my ass, my boyshorts peeking slightly under the hem. It fits so well on me that I definitely think I can get away with wearing it to the studio under a cute sweater and a pair of tights.
"Sorry, Baby, I can't give you that. You have to take it off," Mark throws me a suggestive grin before sitting down, his hair still wet from the morning shower.
"I can't."
"Why?" He asks. I purse my lips and shake my head.
"I just can't right now but I'll give it back when I'm done showering, I promise. Now eat." I command, pushing strands of wild hair behind my ear. Mark needs to be out two hours from now because they still have plenty of schedules to go to before the end of Flight Log: Arrival promotions. Usually, when he's bound by call times and secrecy, Mark leaves immediately after his quick naps. But he woke me up with kisses today and told me he wished he could stay a bit longer for breakfast so I suggested to cook for him early because who am I to disagree when he's been nothing but good to me lately?!
"What are your plans today?" He asks in between bites of toast and bacon.
"I don't know, I'm probably gonna be at the studio later." I answer, smiling sweetly. He asks me if he should drop by and say hi, and I argue that people would think it's weird that he's visiting. Frankly, I just don't think it's wise to be seen with anyone from the group.
These days we almost always talk like normal couples do. We bicker lightly, constantly teasing each other. We have more photos together now, more selfies, more kisses, more traces of a relationship we're not supposed to have. I know we're being reckless—stupid, even. But the way he smiles every time we pretend like we're something more than friends with benefits kind of warms my heart. He's changed a lot in the past year. People have seen the shift in his attitude, from being the shy, quiet guy to being super confident on camera and on stage. It's like he finally found his groove.
Meanwhile, Jackson is starting to show a different side. Where Mark gets brighter, Jackson's energy mostly just dwindles down. It's like he's burning out and I'm guessing it's because he kept jetting around for work. More importantly, I'm amazed that he has been showing more of his serious side. It's like he wanted to prove he's so much more than just a smiley face, a funny voice. I remember that awkward moment we had about a week ago. Actually, I haven't been able to forget that. Who, in her right mind would even forget a seduction like that?!
Of course Mark doesn't know, and I feel guilty about it but I'd rather keep all that to myself than let them fight like kids in a playground again. The discovery that Jackson's interested too worries me. Had I known it was him and had I turned around things would have been very different. Maybe.
I try to shake it off. No use knowing that Jackson's the mystery voice from the New Year's Day party, especially when Mark's becoming more and more possessive of me. Judging by the way he's staring as I finish my toast, and the way he's licking his lips while watching me drinking my water, it seems that his desire to have me all for himself—like I'm a tub of ice cream and not a person—is still there.
He finishes his food quickly. I take his plate along with mine and head to the sink, the shirt rising a little as I go about. I know he's watching, and I know for a fact that he would want another round after last night. I wash the dishes silently and as soon as I'm done I feel hands cupping my ass. There's very little effort on my end as I arch to his touch and close my eyes. "Baby, I'm gonna need my shirt back... Now..." He says, voice commanding as his fingers dig deeper on the flesh of my hips. He starts grinding against me and I let out a deep moan. I try to shake off Jackson's image in my head while Mark envelopes me in a backhug.
"Take it off for me then," I answer, turning to him. Mark kisses me, pulls me away from the sink and sits me on the cleared out dining table. I immediately open my legs for him, like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's like muscle memory, the way he makes a path of wet kisses down my neck. Slowly, he starts taking the white shirt off me, kissing every inch of skin that opens up to him as he removes the buttons one by one.
I'm naked underneath his shirt save for the black underwear. I writhe as his hands and lips roam my body, the fabric dangling halfway off my shoulders, down my arms, my fingers hidden by the shirt's long sleeves as I run them through his hair. Mark looks down at his handiwork, a constellation of hickeys from the valley in between my breasts down to my navel. Then he takes my nipples in his mouth. I cry out in pleasure when he starts playing with my mounds using his tongue and his lips. I'm so lost in his touches that I don't even feel my phone vibrating on the dining table a few inches above my head. Mark reaches out for it and stops to check the image on the screen.
Jackson. Fuck. Why the heck is he calling in so early?!
*Flashback*
Love: What's taking you forever?
Jackson: Wait, one sec I'll be right there
Jackson: WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TELL ME WHERE WE'RE GOING?! JEEZ!
Love: LOL Just come down already!
It took Jackson five more minutes to reach my car in their building's parking lot. He was wearing a black fuzzy sweater with tiny hearts near the neckline, a pair of black skinny jeans that showcased his toned thighs, and a pair of black army boots. He his perfume occupied my car and my head. "Wow, that's a LOT of perfume."
"You like it? It's Calvin Klein," Jackson said, beaming at me while fixing his seat belt. It smells a lot softer than his usual manly musk so I knew it was new. Why he had to bathe in perfume though, I really don't know.
"Yeah, sure," I answered as I back out of the parking lot. I drive in silence and listened to Jackson ramble on and on about upcoming activities. He was being eased back into their schedules again since his doctor finally gave him the go signal to work. I nodded and smiled, happy that he was healthy and obviously happy. Jackson cleared his throat suddenly and I did my best not laugh because I already knew what was coming.
"So, what's your birthday gift for me?" He asked, pretending to be nonchalant about it.
"You'll see..." I answered briefly as the car rounded the corner. It wasn't just my birthday gift, it was ours. It was my idea, sure, but Sheen and JYP and the six other boys were all on board with it. So to say that it was MY birthday present would be a bit too much.
I drove up to the cul de sac that separated Corinthians Hotel from the usual curbs of Agpujeong. Unlike the Busan hotel, this one's a bit smaller, but classy nonetheless. It showed my father's taste in design, like all of the other hotels we have across the globe. He married South Korea's wood accents and hanok-style floor plans with Australian white marble floors and huge glass windows. The result was a distinguishable black, white, and brown color palette that works so well with any kind of aesthetic, earning him the respect of hundreds of designers and architects all over the world. My father didn't even go to design school. He was a carpenter from Busan who happened to have an artistic eye and a lot of trustworthy business and creative partners. I'm actually glad I inherited that eye for design from him because it gave me the opportunity to work in an industry that thrived through creativity.
I stepped out of the car all bundled in my black coat and politely left my car keys to the valet. Jackson trailed behind me wearing a pair of huge sunglasses that dominated his now chiseled face, a byproduct of his incessant dieting and the sickness that followed. We entered the elevators, both quiet and a little wary. I pressed the top level floor, where the most expensive suites were located. Then I decided to take my coat off, revealing a nude colored wrap dress that fell just above my knees. Jackson took off his sunglasses and stared, consciously nibbling the sides of his lower lip. I looked back at him, doe eyes blinking like an innocent child, fingers crossed that he wouldn't figure out the surprise for his 23rd birthday.
"Okay, what are we doing here?" He finally asked after a few moments of silence.
"Well..." I said, thinking of a way to explain things without spoiling anything. "We're here because you are going to get your birthday present..." I preceded the short and vague statement with a smile. It wasn't meant to be flirty, nor was it meant to give him other ideas. But the moment I smiled and spoke about an unknown birthday gift, Jackson's eyes went wide. Then he started laughing hysterically, his face tilted upwards. It's like he just got punk'd in the most fascinating way.
"Oh my god, I can't believe this!"
"You can't believe what?" I asked incredulously, wondering what he was thinking. He looked at me again with a deep, dark gaze and a dangerous smirk that somehow made my heart stop. Just as he was stepping towards me the elevator halted and the doors opened. I walked out of the lift as fast as my heeled feet could carry me, maintaining a safe distance from Jackson. Dear god, please don't let him get his hopes up. I rounded the corner and waited for him in a dark hallway that led to a door. He was taking his sweet time coming up to me, and he didn't even bother to wipe the naughty grin off his face.
"Uhm... Okay..." I said tentatively, melting slowly with the way he's staring at me. Like a prey in the middle of a goddamn forest. I'm supposed to be laughing my ass off by now. "Jackson... I-I need you to compose yourself before we enter that room because—"
"Because I'm getting my birthday present in there?" He asked, licking his lips and smiling devilishly as he stepped closer to me.
"Uhhh... Yeah... So..." I fidget with my fingers, walking closer to the door. I knew they were ready and I wasn't supposed to be feeling nervous about the surprise because Sheen said she already took care of everything. For some reason, though, I started feeling lightheaded as Jackson stepped closer, his face inches away from mine, his perfume hitting my nose, his breath grazing my skin, his black sweater blocking my vision as he towered over me.
"Good... I kinda like that you bothered wrapping my gift, it's really pretty..." He whispered, grinning as his fingers trailed the ties of my dress on the side, his other hand gripping my hip gently. I faked a laugh. He's CLEARLY not getting what he wanted for his birthday.
"Okay... well..." I backed up slowly and knocked on the door thrice. The door opened with a loud creak, revealing Jackson's parents, fresh from China. "Surprise!" I muttered softly with a hesitant smile. This wasn't how I imagined things would turn out.
There was a split-second glint of confusion in Jackson's eyes when he saw his beaming parents and then he looked back at me and smiled. He smiled so wide, I thought his face would break. It was the most beautiful smile I've seen from him. "Mommy!" He cried out, running to his mom with open arms. I bowed to his parents and stepped inside the room. Sheen was there by the door, smiling as well. She took Jackson's parents with her when she flew in yesterday. Their tickets were paid for by JYP himself, another extravagant gift for his favorite boy. The simple dinner for three and the cute white cake that had colorful letter candles blazing across it was Mark's idea. The fancy suite and the balloons, well, that was my birthday gift. And whatever it was Jackson thought was part of the package had been forgotten when we started singing him a Happy Birthday song, in three languages.
Sheen and I left the family to spend Jackson's birthday privately. We all knew that more than anything else what Jackson needed was quality time with his parents. So we headed to the hotel restaurant to wine and dine on our own and after a few glasses of wine I was finally able to tell Sheen what happened between the moment we stepped inside the hotel elevators and the time we entered the hotel room his parents were staying in. She laughed, I did too. Though I didn't spill any other detail that might give her a full understanding of my real relationship with Jackson—or with Mark—I'm pretty sure she got the gist of it, and she didn't judge, she didn't ask any other question. To be honest, it felt as if a heavy brick was removed from the invisible bag I've been carrying around for the past year. It may not have been the whole cat that's out of the bag now, but surely it felt lighter.
*Flashforward*
His eyes did not go dark, but there's a spark in there. I can see it. Mark cancels the call and puts my phone in his jeans pocket. "Mark, wait..." Before I even get to ask for my phone back, Mark pulls me by the back of the neck and kisses me hard until I'm out of breath. He pushes the shirt roughly down my arms and almost rips my underwear off, stripping me naked in a rush. Then he kisses me again, invading my mouth with his tongue while he's holding me so close. So close.
"I know you want this. Say yes, Baby..." He growls, pleads, panting in my mouth as his hands roam every inch of my skin.
"Mark, I—"
"Just say yes... Please..." He starts removing his black shirt and unbuckling his belt and taking his pants off. It's like we're in another hidden nook in the company and not in my apartment. "I want you so bad..." He adds, stroking his member almost angrily, eyes turning into the color of ash. Why is he like this?
"Yes," I finally whisper despite my confusion. Our lips crash, this time more passionately than before. He pulls me closer to the edge of the table, towards him, rests his forehead against mine and breathes before entering me slowly. Then he plows into me with his familiar push and pull. I spread my legs more for him. Lay down on the table for him. Moan out in ecstasy for him. All for him. "Yes, Baby..."
"Fuck, Love, you feel so good..." He groans as his hands take my legs to angle them better. "Oh, you're so tight... Oh, fuck!" His eyes are glazed over as he ruts, eyebrows knotted in concentration. I watch him intently, wondering how we ended up having rough sex and dirty talking when we started out so sweetly. But the view isn't so bad from where I lay. While we fuck, I get to stare at his muscular arms, his beautifully sculpted abs, his toned chest. He looks so, so different from the boy I had sex with in Los Angeles City, and yet the lust and the seduction feels exactly the same. I'm still weak. I'm still powerless. And hell I'm still enjoying every bit of it.
"Fuck me harder, Baby!" I shout. My request makes him cackle and I see fire in his eyes as he stops for a bit to help me wrap my legs tightly around his hips. Then he leans onto the table, hands on each side of my face, hovering over me.
"Your wish is my command, Princess..." He whispers, lips almost brushing against mine. Then he starts banging into me, pounding my pussy in a way that's almost foreign. I put both of my hands on his sides, holding on for dear life as he fucks the living daylights out of me. I arch my back so my hips would meet his trusts. He hits my g-spot right then, sending me on a cursing frenzy.
"Fuck, shit, Mark! Oh... My... Oh God, right there! Fuck me right there! Yes, Baby, fuck!"
"You like that? You like it when I fuck you like this, huh?" He snaps his hips so fiercely I'm afraid we might actually break the table. I hear faint buzzing from the floor again. Jackson?
"Baby, you're getting tighter, are you coming?" Mark pants. I nod and close my eyes to concentrate on the growing need gnawing at the pit of my stomach. I'm so close, and I will myself not to think of anything else other than the man who's been making me feel all sorts of amazing. "Open your eyes, Baby. Look at me and say please." He slows a little to put me off and I slowly open my eyes.
Necking. Rough sex. Begging. This boy keeps surprising me every single time with his kinks. I bat my lashes at him, lick my lip seductively and say, "Please, Daddy..."
"Please what, Princess?" He touches my cheek tenderly with long fingers, hips moving slowly, cock driving into me. In and out.
"Mark, please make me come... I need to come..." He smirks when I let the words out sweetly, pleased with the way he had me putty under his touch. He grabs my neck, choking me just right, and starts pounding mercilessly into me, making me moan so loud until my throat feels raw. "Damn, Mark! Aaaahhh!"
"Keep your eyes open, Baby." He demands. It takes a lot for me to follow, mainly because the harder be fucks, the more I wish to shut my eyes and feel it. But the way he's looking right at me with a devilish grin sends me off into oblivion while I stare back and before I even know it I'm coming so hard that I can barely feel my body. Mark pulls out of me abruptly and masturbates as I climb down from my high.
"I'm coming on you, Baby..." His words toe the line between a demand and a request for permission. I nod weakly, reeling from my climax and still excited to watch him come from my point of view. It's not every day you get to see an idol jerking off your splayed body on a dining table anyway. He moans as he comes, thick white threads landing on my pussy and my belly and my breasts. It makes me moan too when the hot liquid lands on my body and I can't help but lick my lips at the sight of Mark coming undone like this, his skin flushed, his eyes fucked out, his natural scent all over me.
"Well, that was hot." I say, panting as I'm sitting up. Mark smirks and then hands me paper towels from the kitchen counter. He dresses up again while I clean up and fixes his hair which I have managed to sex up during foreplay.
"It is, huh? You seem to like it rough..."
"Just me?" I say, running my fingers through my hair. He just laughs in response. "Baby can I have my phone back?" I ask carefully. His face turns serious as he finishes buckling his belt. I try my best not to roll my eyes at him as I climb down the table. This jealousy nonsense has got to stop. Mark takes my phone from his back pocket and checks the screen. Then he lets out a high-pitched sarcastic laugh before handing the phone to me.
"Wow, he's so eager to talk to you, huh? And here I thought he was busy. Don't worry, I'll tell him his timing is still shitty. Do you want me to tell him how I good I was fucking you on the dining table while he's trying to reach you?"
"Mark, can you stop this jealous rage for a second and relax?! Jesus!" I spit back, throwing him a nasty glare before checking my phone. He turns his back to me and busies himself with a glass of water. I look down, irritated now. The first thing I see are Jackson's missed calls. Then I find dozens of Twitter notifications. Immediately, my mind goes to the night Jackson and I drove out for his birthday surprise. Shit, please don't tell me this is another scandal.
Then there's a text from Nawoon, and an email from an unknown sender. I open the email first out of curiosity.
To: LoveKJ .au
From: youdontknowme
Message:
It's not Jackson, isn't it? I have proof.
[photo attached]
[photo attached]
[photo attached]
I check the attached files, fingers trembling. I suddenly feel so exposed and vulnerable that I'm shivering in my nakedness. Mark senses my discomfort and comes to me while the files are downloading.
"Hey... Hey, Baby, what's wrong." He asks, taking his white shirt again and putting it over my shoulders. I don't look at him. I just wait and wait until the images pop out. There's an image of me and Mark on our way into my apartment building, and of me and him wearing the same hoodie on the same dates. These were the same photos I saw on Nawoon's computer.
"Oh my god..." I feel weak in the knees. I sit on the nearest chair, tears about to fall from my eyes. Mark takes my phone to read the email and check the photos. We both fall silent. I wear Mark's shirt properly again and take my phone from him. He's too stunned to protest, too speechless to offer a solution. I check Nawoon's text next.
Nawoon: Unnie...
Nawoon: I broke my laptop and I took it to a shop in Myeongdong... And I lost all my files.
Nawoon: Did you get an email?
Love: Yes.
Nawoon: Na do...
Nawoon: You said you're just friends, right? We shouldn't have to worry...
Love: Yes, we're just friends. Nawoon, listen, we need to get your files back. Or find out whoever this person is. It's bad enough that I got Jackson in trouble today.
Nawoon: Araso... Mianheyo... *crying emoji*
Nawoon: Oh my god, I feel so shitty right now.
Love: No, it's going to be fine. Meet with me today, okay?
Nawoon: Ne...