"No no no... Uh-uh you do not get to do that." I hear him quick on my heels. "Someone with the balls to let someone take a needle to his neck doesn't get to act like a fucking little girl."
"They aren't that bad. Stories are blown out of proportion to say the least." Truth is the few I remember getting hurt like hell. The neck actually wasn't that bad though so I feel justified in that part.
"I know what it feels like, so I call bullshit. That is aside the point though. You are running and avoiding." I was and I have to admit it is fun. A chase, a rush.
"Oh really you have ink? Where?" I try a bit of a diversion and try and pop out a sexy bad boy look. Really it feels kind of stupid and I catch a small smile that he catches and makes go away. What the hell I try a pout. He shakes his head. I shrug and turn back sown the hall. I almost make it to door before I am off my feet turned around and slug over a hulking shoulder the size of a work out bench.
The air rushes out of my lungs upon impact and barely catch it before I am flung on the bed once again wooshing all of the air out. He looms over the bed as I push back to the top of the bed, a fearful looming. If I didn't know the twinkle and the hint of a dimple I may have been scared. When I am just about to the top he is covering me his hand holding my wrists lightly in place above my head. His nose touches mine. His breath warm and soft against my lips. I think he is going to go in for the kill. Then he pulls back.
"Now then, spill..."
