Chapter 9: Crossing Boundaries
A/N: I've actually had this chapter done for quite a few days, I just wanted to release it in November. I mostly updated early so I can do my giant load of coursework and enjoy Season 2 of The Mandalorian without anything weighing on my conscience. I'm happy to see that you guys enjoyed John's insight/perspective, I'm thinking that I might start to include it in the story from time to time. John's usually more action-oriented than talkative and lots of his feelings are conveyed through that.
Truthfully, you hadn't expected to be back at your parents house so soon if not at all. Luckily your friends were still in the area admiring other houses and made a U-turn to come get you only to bail on you completely when you told them what you were planning to do. They didn't want to be around when you broke the news to your folks and you could totally understand that.
You couldn't put it off any further. It was better to just go ahead and tell them to get it out of the way. Inform them before your mother started snooping and putting her nose where it didn't belong. She had the detective skills of a seasoned FBI agent when she wanted to find something out. You just couldn't take the risk of her digging too deep into your life and finding out about John at the present time. Things would turn extremely awkward and you were terrible at lying to them. They'd see right through you.
The house smelled like someone had cooked breakfast at some point. Walking past the living room and foyer, you found your mother in the kitchen on the phone with your father, who was gone on a fishing trip with some of his co-coworkers. You took a seat on a chair near the kitchen and quietly watched her straighten up parts of the pantry.
"I've been calling you nonstop." She said, and you instantly knew the question was directed at you.
"I know."
"How did the interview go?"
Inwardly, you sighed. Your mother always wasted absolutely no time getting right to the point.
"It came and went."
"What the hell does that mean? Did you get it?"
"Nope." You whispered.
At this, your mother hurriedly stepped away from the pantry, placing a hand on her hip. "No? And why not?"
"Turns out that the professor had already had it set up for someone else to get it."
"We'll, that's not right."
"He felt like a certain kind of person needed the position."
"And that kind of person would be?"
"Exactly what you think."
Frankly, you expected her to be furious but she's surprisingly calm. It worries you right away.
"I know good and goddamn well -"
"I got an email from the dean this morning. He wants to set up a meeting to discuss the incident."
"Good. Go get my purse from upstairs." She bids to you, and you recognize that determined look in her eyes.
Right before you slide off the seat, you can faintly hear your father speaking to your mother through the phone. "Baby, don't go to that school and clown. You've done enough of that already."
"Oh I won't."
But you knew better.
As you moved to ascend the stairs, a throbbing on the side of your head came out of nowhere, forcing you to freeze for a few moments and wait for the pain to stop. The pain was enough to induce some nausea and it made it extremely difficult to concentrate. You hadn't had a migraine like that for sometime but you definitely remembered what it felt like. You made a mental note to grab some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom because you'd be damned if you dealt with the dizzying sensation all day. You already had enough to deal with as it was.
The receptionists are looking at the both of you nervously, almost as if they can recognize a disgruntled parent ready to raise hell about their child. They'd probably seen and had their fair share of incidents and gotten caught in the crossfire as well. You felt like you were in middle school again. Back then your mother had shown up to your school more than a few times to check teachers she felt had gotten out of line with you. It really used to embarrass you until you realized just how in the wrong the teachers were. Most of your former classmates still bring it up to this day if you happened to run into them on the street.
You didn't blame them for wanting to steer clear of any confrontation. Your mother wasn't anyone to play with. Speaking of which, she was entirely too calm about this and that scared you even more.
After about ten minutes, the receptionist led them in the office. Things really started to set in for you. The weight of what happened and your actions. This was serious.
You could say, "It is what it is" but at this point, what even is it?
The dean in question turned out to be a middle aged black man whom you'd never seen before. He was dressed in a nice, navy suit and wore thick-framed glasses. A picture frame of his family sat on the desk along with a snow globe, a stapler, and a few sheets of paper. The dean's job was to essentially try and be a mediator and find a solution to whatever issue arose with any particular student.
"I want to thank you both for coming here to meet with me to discuss the issue at hand." He acknowledged with a polite, professional tone. Hands folded neatly on the desk.
Your mother, however, wasn't moved in the slightest as she said, "Darnell, how long are you gonna sit there and act like you don't know me?"
You were slightly taken aback by what was unfolding in front of you. Your mother and the dean clearly know each other.
"Wait, you two know each other?"
"Yes, him and I went to school together."
The man held it together for a moment, before he slouched a bit in his head, releasing a sigh of relief. "You know I have to stay professional at work around these white folks."
You sat in the seat dumbfounded as they carried on a normal, friendly conversation while you felt like shitting bricks because of the nervousness concerning your undetermined education status. You're suddenly reminded of how when you were younger at church service, your mother would say it's time to go but start conversing with a person for twenty minutes afterwards. You hated when that happened.
"Mmhh...How's Tonya and the kids. I ain't seen em in I don't know how long."
"At the house running me ragged. The youngest girl is in her senior year in high school, just about ready to leave the nest."
"Are you ready for her to go?"
"Hell yeah. Me and Tonya will be on the first plane to Jamaica the second we drop her off at college."
"Oh I know the feeling."
You gave your mother a look that could be interpreted in many ways to which she ignored.
"I can't stress the importance of reaching an amicable solution in a timely manner. I want you ladies to know that the matter is being taken seriously and it's even been briefed to the President of the University."
"Wait, the President knows?"
He nodded. "He's placed the decision directly in my hands."
"The man, Professor Thomas, why isn't he here right now?"
"He's been removed pending the investigation, unpaid leave of course."
"That's a shame. I would've loved to give him a piece of my mind."
"I'm sure you would. It's crazy to see you haven't changed after all these years."
"What? Just because I've gotten older I'm supposed to turn into some peacemaker? To hell with that, ain't nobody gon mess with my baby's education. Y'all are taking much of her and our money for that matter anyway. In fact, y'all really need your asses whooped for that tuition balance."
The man held up his hands in a defenseless manner. "Look I'm just the dean."
"I'd like to hear your side of the story before any judgement is passed."
"The disputing party wants you expelled from the university but I believe there's a better way to handle the issue entirely."
Your heart leaped in your chest. Expelled? That asshole wanted you to be ejected from the university because of his actions. The nerve.
"He might just press assault charges as well."
"The way I'll have his ass in court on Monday morning. He doesn't want to play those games, trust me. My lawyer has never lost a case."
"I won't let them throw my baby under the bus for some old racist. I don't care how long he's worked here."
"We've received many complaints about him over the years regarding him and his behavior."
So apparently, he'd been up to no good for a while. You weren't surprised in the least, considering how he handled you. You felt relieved that the school was not trying to cover the incident up or make up an excuse for the professor conniving ways like many other institutions would've.
The shit would be funny except it fucking isn't. People like him thought it was okay to be stuck in their simple-minded ways.
"We've spoken to the station and explained the situation. I've spoken to the head of the station and they've agreed to allow you another opportunity next semester - that is, if you still want it."
"Given that all of your classes hinged entirely on the interview, you may take the rest of the semester off and still receive full credit. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience."
"Thank you for your time."
Your mother was sorely pleased with the outcome and in a way you were too. In spite of everything, things always end up working out. Sometimes even better than a person can imagine. It could've been worse and it probably would have been had it not been for your mother. As long as you put forth the time and effort into your future, it was the only thing important. This was cause for a celebration.
You typed a quick text to John, briefly hesitating on whether you wanted to send it or not. "How about I cook dinner at your place for tonight?"
"Sounds perfect."
As promised, you cook dinner at John's place. Moving around in a t-shirt and shorts he likes so much. You naturally cleaned as you went, not wanting to go through the hassle of washing dishes or wiping the countertops after everything was done. It was one of the many things you'd picked up watching your parents cook over the years. You father preferred to use the grill but you still regarded him as an actual cook. Nobody made better barbecue than him. No one.
John sits patiently at the table, merely observing you rip and run around the kitchen. For as busy as you were, you didn't miss how sometimes his watchful gaze would lower and settle endearingly on your backside. Honestly, you shouldn't be so surprised - these were the shorts that got your ass eaten.
This was a strange predicament, you preparing dinner at his home. It was...domestic. Dangerously domestic. You did not cater to men folks like this and thus this was way out of character for you. Maybe you were just being overdramatic. But the two of you avoided speaking about the implications of what it might mean. This was the most at ease you've felt in nearly two days.
"Me and my mom met with the Dean of Students earlier today."
"And?"
"As for now, he's under investigation and I get to take the rest of the semester off."
"They think he might press charges on me in retaliation but I'm not worried. My mom's lawyer is scary good."
"Come outside. I have something to show you."
You raced to turn the sauce down on the stove to a low simmer before following after John.
On the side of the house there's a shiny black car, an Audi RS 7 from the symbol on the front with a big red bow on top. You'd seen this type of car on a few commercials here and there but to see it in front of you was something different entirely.
"You got a new car?"
"It's not for me."
"Then who's it for?"
You at him and the car nearly several times before you actually caught the gist of what he was implying. Time seemed to slow down at that moment.
"This isn't my car is it?"
"It is." He said it so simple, as if it was nothing.
Your breath caught in your throat. "What?"
Your jaw nearly fell to the ground. He couldn't be fucking serious - he couldn't be. This man did not just gift you with a whole fucking car. A luxury car at that. This wasn't how you were supposed to get a vehicle - there was a savings account for that. A savings account that had only six dollars in it but a savings account no less. At the very least, you'd prefer that he'd given you the money to purchase a car as opposed to him going out and buying it himself. It might not seem like a huge difference but to you it certainly was.
You didn't even know where to start. "Why...how?"
It was hard to vocalize all the thoughts racing in your mind dying to come out of our mind at once. This was totally unexpected.
"Do you like it?" He queried.
"No...I mean...Yes! I don't know...I just. Why would you do this?" You stammered, visibly fluttered.
"You were upset and you needed a car."
You remember the conversation that you'd had with him a few days ago where you'd mentioned solely relying on ours for transportation and the fact that he'd listened and taken the initiative to take care of it without you knowing made all the difference in the world. Now you viewed him in a whole different light because of it. John's duality was astonishing. The man was undoubtedly a ruthless killer and yet could turn into the kindest person in a room depending on the circumstances. Could it be that he was partly motivated because you broke down in front of him? It was feasible. He will literally drown you in affection without you having to ask for it. He was set on creating an environment where you could exist and want for nothing.
The group chat would be in shambles once the girls got a hold of this.
He kindly led you over to take a closer look at the car and you quietly obliged him. The front seats were wrapped in leather and suede with a three spoke steering wheel and stylish center and console. You slowly ran your fingertips over every available surface, utterly fascinated. Everything in the car felt so sleek and new. As a whole, the car was downright perfect.
"I...thank you." You said, looking straight into John's eyes.
John inclines his head, satisfied with your acceptance.
Something then popped in your head as an afterthought. "Hey...um, how much is the car note? I'm not sure if I can keep up on the payments."
"It's already paid for." He answered, already walking back towards the house, while you just sat there in shock, the key fob still in your hand.
The disbelief was just too much to take at this point. They were crossing boundary after boundary.
You thought you really outdid yourself with the steak and fettuccine alfredo. Having some garlic bread would really set it off but you had to work with what you had. You just really hoped he liked your cooking. Going by what you could see, he seems to enjoy the food on his plate, eating quietly at an even pace. His table manners were exactly what you expected them to be like - disciplined and refined all at once. At first, you worried that he didn't like your cooking. Even if the food was terrible, he probably wouldn't tell you. You shouldn't be dealing with anyone who isn't generous enough to buy you a whole car. You didn't consider yourself a simple woman though, you know what you like and how you like it. How you're treated is much more important than how much you like someone.
The red wine in your glass was sweet and smooth, it reminded you of minute maid juice with the way you were gulping it down glass after glass. You never drink wine with dinner, usually enjoying the alcoholic beverage at parties or get-togethers. The problem was that you were chugging the wine instead of sipping it like you were supposed to. You felt like an excited child whose parents let them stay up an extra hour. John himself, was on his fourth glass and probably had more than a little buzz going on.
The man's voice sounds deeper, more throatier than usual, possibly an effect of the wine. Lord knows, it was certainly having an effect on you. Both of you were decently past tipsy by this point. All you wanted now, was that veined monster in his pants.
When both of you had eaten your fill, you opted for a different approach to get the results you wanted.
"Let's play a game...a drinking game."
John crooks his left eyebrow, seemingly considering the proposal carefully. You let the question hang in the air, waiting to see if he would dignify it with a plausible answer. Serious doubt entered in your mind, the man was a fucking killer, you couldn't even conceptualize him playing any type of game for that matter. You imagined the life of a hired gun didn't much engage irrespectively with juvenile behavior. But still, you hoped for it nonetheless.
"Sure." He finally answers after some lengthy deliberation.
You smiled at that. "Okay. Let's play, 'Never Have I Ever'. Do you know the rules?"
A quiet subtle glint in his eyes confirmed that he probably had no idea what game you were talking about. This was expected.
"I make a statement about something you have or either haven't done. If you've done it, you take a drink, if not you don't take a drink."
Both defined brows went up this time and you suppress a laugh as not to give yourself away. This would be an interesting game - for you at least. John was a no nonsense type of man that would shut down something at the first hint and you don't want to test his patience to the point of aggravation. Although he was not one to show his aggravation outwardly to others.
"Never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite sex."
A shot for both of you.
"Never have I ever had a one night stand."
The two of you shared an additional shot.
"Never have I ever slept nude."
Another shot.
"Never have I ever made out with a complete stranger."
By now, he had to know that the line of questioning was deliberate. He was way too intelligent not to catch unto your little game with questionable intentions.
"Never have I ever slept with someone older than me."
To your surprise, he actually took a shot along with you. Given the fact you were at least ten years younger than him, it wouldn't astonish you that he'd taken up relations with someone older than himself. He was a man after all.
"Never have I ever watched porn."
Yet another shot.
Oh that one was interesting. So he watches porn. That was much more fascinating than you could've thought.
"Never have I ever had phone sex."
This time, John's gaze settled upon you with an accusatory glint in his eyes, slowly lifting the glass of wine to his mouth and downing it in one go while you mirrored his actions.
You were totally cheating as you presented all the questions that were specifically geared towards things you knew for a fact the two of you had engaged in with one other. In laden terms, these were things you knew the both of you had done at some point or the other. He was still willing to indulge you however and he honestly didn't seem like the type to participate in these kinds of games. You knew that he didn't do anything he didn't want to and there was something about him that made you incredibly bold.
Both of you were drinking the maroon liquid too fast and now the tension was so thick in the air that you could practically feel it. It should be recognized that your body always took notice of the contract killer when he was in the immediate vicinity. The liquor had just made it even worse.
"Are you not horny? It's so horny in here." You remarked, fanning yourself with a hand.
John knowingly provided you no rebuttal instead swiveling those intense chestnut orbs on you as you inadvertently give yourself away. His answer was clearly written all over his face however.
His eyes were creating a fire in between the two of you and the arousal you were feeling increased tenfold. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed, fiery gaze indecipherable. Beyond everything else, you thought the look was one of the most telling expressions he'd ever given you. After careful consideration, you inched closer to him, hand moving to press against his upper thigh exceedingly near his manhood. His frame immediately goes rigid beneath your touch and your heart hammers loudly against your ribcage at the look he was giving you.
John dwarfed you as he unexpectedly stood elegantly from his chair. The man's hands came up under your armpits and pulled you into a standing position flush against his moderately warm body. He easily lifted you off your feet and carried you over to the living room couch, his mouth passionately latched onto yours. The inside of his mouth tasted exactly like the wine. John comfortably settled you in his lap and you surrendered to the lips, kissing, sucking, and nuzzling at your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips skimmed the sensitive spot on your neck. He pressed his tongue against your racing pulse. John wrapped his arms around your back, keeping you suffocatingly close to his body.
You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your hands over his broad, muscled shoulders. Before long, your lover's hands came down to rub and massage your ass in retaliation. Without further prompting, you took to rocking atop his hardened shaft and rubbing yourself against that hard bulge. His hands switched to caressing the soft skin of your thighs and sliding along them while your hands came up to bury themselves in his soft, raven-colored hair. Fingertips danced across the skin of your back as the oversized shirt you were wearing started to come up inch by tantalizing inch before he brought it up and off your body in a fluid motion.
He admired the alluring sight of your bra covered breasts, palms coming up to hold the delicate flesh. It didn't take much for him to release the small fabric from your chest and let it join your shirt on the floor. Following that, John brought your chest closer to his waiting furnace of a mouth where he quickly latched into your nipple with no hesitation. Your head fell back with a mewl. He started gently tweaking and squeezing your nipples, showering both erect buds with attention. Once his tongue circled around your areola, you felt like your entire world had fallen completely to the background and there was only you and him in this moment that mattered.
The sound of a phone ringing broke the world of bliss you'd fallen into and you felt slight irritation zip up your spine for a second. The device belonged to John as it sat on a small table that held a lamp next to the couch. A glaring reminder that what you wanted was just out of reach. Just. It's owner leaned away from your pillowly cleavage, reaching to answer whoever was calling and you couldn't help but feel neglected in the moment. You quickly trailed you hands around the front of his neck, pulling his face back towards you
John's hand snapped to your neck with lightning speed, starling you into forgoing your desperate actions altogether. The aggressiveness shocked you into silence. His stare held a foreboding glare before he reached out to retrieve the vibrating phone.
John coolly held the device to his ear, not even bothering to speak. As the person on the phone began to speak, John merely held your doe-like stare. You couldn't tell if he was paying attention to what the person on the other end of the phone was saying. Not sure if he even gave a fuck about entertaining them. Whilst the other person was still speaking, John wordlessly ended the call - powering the phone down thereafter. The device was then set aside and you had all of his attention once more. The room temperature seemed to rise afterwards. There will be no more interruptions for the time being.
Oh right.
Lifting yourself off his lap, you lowered unto your knees in front of him working to open his pants and take him out. You marvel at the contours of his dick, holding the weight of it in your hands. Your lips wrapped around the sensitive mushroom tip, kissing it softly before running your tongue over it. In all honesty, you were starting to think that you enjoyed sucking his dick more than he did. You swallow down his shaft, taking him deep in your throat with the eagerness of an experienced slut. This time, you didn't even have the capacity to choke - only focusing on swallowing around the muscle and regulating your breathing through your nose. Under your lashes, you observed John's head falling back against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, obviously in a state of relish. You could plainly see the desire painted across the hitman's rugged features. The sight could only be described as sexy.
You ignored the sudden ache making itself known in your jaw while drooling excessively to accommodate your actions. This was without doubt one of the sloppiest blowjobs you've ever given. A hand held the back of your head, carefully not to pull at your loose braids. You loved that the man was always cautious of touching your hair, usually waiting for your permission to do so first. You wrapped a hand around the base, moving it up and down as you sucked indulgently. Solely focused on stimulating your deadly lover. The taste of salty male essence hitting your coating your tongue. A low groan reverberated from his chest and your pussy clenches involuntarily. This would end up getting you the fuck of your life.
To you, John would always remain a major source of intrigue. The arrangement should be 50/50 - you make him dinner and he eats you out for desert. It felt good to be in the arms of a killer.
Your entire body started to pulse with delight, the throbbing below your navel most prevalent. The wetness in your shorts couldn't be ignored anyway. Soon you're blushing intensely and panting heavily, nearly quivering with lust. The heat invoked by him had your pussy tingling. The wine had you horny as fuck and you wanted him to do something about it. The alcohol makes you bolder and nasier for some reason, presumably from knowing that he'd be inside of you soon.
Your eyes are tear stained, lips burning as you pull back and slip him out of your mouth. A shudder passes through him so quickly that you nearly miss it.
"Good girl." He acknowledges.
You're preening at his words as he headily maneuvers you on the surface of the couch, on your back.
His brown orbs were darkened and focused exclusively on your soaked crotch, concealed by the shorts he was fond of. John leered with a heated expression - like he wanted to devour you on the spot. Fingers danced across the seam of your shorts before dipping in to roll the garment down past your thighs. He breathed in deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent, kissing along your inner thighs forcing slippery excitement to slip out in increasing amounts. His tongue rolled over every crease and crevice of your cunt, drawing out delicious whimpers out of you. You arched off the couch, your lips parting to admit a long moan.
"You taste good." He says quietly, lust deeply attached to the words.
You'd never heard a man say that to you while eating you out. Juices started to seep out of you like a leaky faucet as a result.
He slid his wet muscle between your folds, paying extra attention to your clit, slathering saliva all over the source of your warmth. "It's so wet."
"For you." You breathlessly added. "Can you just...just take your pants off. I want it now please."
You've had enough of all the kissing, touching, and teasing. It was time to get down to business. You were too drunk to deny yourself any further.
Without waiting, you leaned up and reached down to grab his face and slam your lips back unto his. He lets you take over work to quickly remove him from his clothes before the position was soon altered into straddling him for the last time. You angled him upwards and you slowly slid down to accept him with a whine. Hot juices soaked his dick as your inner muscles squeezed tightly around him. John began languidly rolling your hips into his lap after a brief adjustment period, forcing you to take it to the hilt each time. You continuously implied yourself unto his hot pillar of hard flesh. Your lover gave you a penetrating look as you bounced on his lap, inciting a symphony of mewls and moans. John's molten orifice latched onto your right nipple, pulling on it with wet sucks, sending you into a spiraling void of pleasure.
After about thirty seconds, your thighs started burning and you had to take a moment. This was the most exercise you've done all week. It was a shame that you didn't have Megan Thee Stallion's knees, you probably would have maintained the position longer.
Luckily, you're repositioned on your back again, legs splayed in the crook of his arms.
His thrusts were slow but still had an urgency to them. The strokes were slow and measured, the friction felt heavenly. His pubis was rubbing against your cunt deliciously, causing a sensory overload. He intentionally began making circles with his hips, you get lost in a haze of pleasure, the sensation making your body tremble. At this angle, he was aiming right for your sweet spot every time. It dawned on you that Alexis' assumption was right on the mark - your mind was totally gone. You're suddenly jealous of everyone he's ever been with like this but not too jealous since you're the one with his full attention.
The pair had never had slow sex before and you were left wondering why they hadn't done it sooner. Every sensuous movement felt prolonged and intense.
You noticed a light film of sweat started to glisten over his skin. John is gifted in more ways than one. His sex and personality are so bomb you start crying right in the middle of it because you realized you might have to kill someone over him. You'd already made up your mind that if they decided to part ways, he and his new bitch would never know peace if you had anything to do with it. One hand was holding your cheek, while the other held your thigh open.
The most arousing aspect of everything was that John was whispering heated praises against your ear in that familiar language you couldn't decipher all whilst he continued ruining you. You couldn't understand any of his filthy words and yet they lit a fire hotter than hell in your body. The slow pounding tempo made your toes curl painfully, his body unleashing a pleasurable assault on your body. You were feeling it in places that you didn't even know you could.
"Voz'mi eto. YA znayu, chto mozhesh', ya videl, kak ty eto delal ran'she."
"...Ston dlya menya."
He's still murmuring praises to you in that unknown language easing that gorgeous dick in and out of you. His voice is darker and full of depth. You don't know why whispering during sex was so sexy but it was.
"YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, milaya. YA nikogda ne smogu nasytit'sya toboy." He uttered with an almost feral groan.
There was that word again. Whatever it meant, it must be a term of endearment for you.
"Ah fuck!" You breathed.
John's movements paused for a moment, he seemed to regard you before saying, "Watch your mouth." all while looking into your pleasure etched face. The grip of your fluctuating core threatened to unman him - your walls were clenching and unclenching around his dick. He loved this - he was showing you that he truly loved doing this. Acting as if he can't get enough of this - of you.
You were too busy getting the stroke of your life. It was ecstasy of the highest degree and you never wanted to come down. A heavy pressure in your stomach makes itself known. You began to feel the welcome sensation of an approaching orgasm. Every muscle in your body stiffened and your insides started spasming uncontrollably, a myriad of colors exploded behind your eyes, a wave of rapture coursing through your overwrought body. You feel the hot spurts of cum spilling into you as you seize up. Close to a second later, he filled your womb full of hot cum. You felt lifeless, limbs heavier than normal.
It took more than a few moments for both of you to recover. John leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your parted lips, leading to both of you staring longingly into each other's eyes afterwards. His eyes were full of admiration and you were of sound enough mind to know that your eyes were the same. They couldn't put a name to their actions. This was much deeper than either of them knew. Both were satisfying a greater need for each other. Both of you were internally committed to each other on the same scale. They'd inevitably crossed a few lines, especially with the car situation and there was no going back. He knew could sense that your heart, mind, spirit, and intentions were pure. Maybe that's why he was doing all these unexpected things for you like letting you stay in his home and buying you cars.
He had no idea that you were hopelessly in love with him.
Translations: Voz'mi eto. YA znayu, chto mozhesh', ya videl, kak ty eto delal ran'she. = "Take it. I know you can, I've seen you do it before."
Ston dlya menya. = "Moan for me."
YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, milaya. YA nikogda ne smogu nasytit'sya toboy. = "I'll never leave you milaya. I can't ever get enough of you."
