GRIFFIN
"Why do you have an apartment if you live at home?" Ariel drawls, stumbling out if the elevator at my penthouse. I grab her arm to steady her. "Woah." She giggles, the now familiar dimples making an appearance.
"I have some late nights at the office." I briefly explain.
I prefer having a place away from the estates for personal use. Not everything can be a family affair. And there is a reason the airtight security at the estates is airtight.
"Hmm." I unlock the door, leading her in. "Sometimes I wish I could have barbecue flavored chips. All the time." She whispers as we walk into the bedroom.
She's been mumbling the craziest things the whole car ride. I would have thought it was annoying if everything she did wasn't so goddamn cute.
"Alright get some sleep." I point to the bed. She looks up at me, then at the bed.
"Are you going to sleep with me?" She asks, walking closer, craning her neck to look at me. I look down into those eyes, trying to ignore the view of her breasts that this angle provides. God help me.
"No." My voice is husky with desire.
"Why not?" she pouts, her bare arms come up and hook around my neck. Her soft skin against mine makes me grunt. "I loved kissing you." She whispers, her touch, her scent, the look in her eyes, everything clouds my head.
"Because you're drunk. And if you weren't, you would never ask me to sleep with you." I push a strand of her hair behind her ear, my voice softer than I thought possible.
"Why?" she asks, a picture of innocuous lure.
"I am not a good man, tempesta."
"I don't think you're that bad." she murmurs, resting her head against my chest for the second time that night. "You just need some love." her voice timbres, almost like she was sleep talking.
My heart beat soars, palpable pain stinging my chest, confusing me. The comfort of her warmth the only thing stopping me from pulling away from the source of the unknown feelings.
"You should-" I stop when I hear the deep breathing and feel her become heavier against me.
She fell asleep. This is the first time someone has fucking fallen asleep on me. I look down at her head against my wide chest, the same need of protecting this woman in my arms dominates my mind.
I gently maneuver her body so I can pick her up and lay her down in bed. Once she's settled on the pillow, I take in her sleeping form. Already soft features even more softened with sleep. Her bottom lip in a constant pout, her cheeks puffed and rosy, long eyelashes resting against them. My eyes trail downwards but I stop myself.
She's sleeping.
I go to cover her up with the duvet but her shoes are still on. Mio Dio, now she has me taking off shoes. No one has ever had me like this, on my knees, slipping off heels. Even fucking rubbing her foot because it looks red.
Fuck me.
I look back at her, recounting the events of my night. My anger that I had buried for her benefit makes a full recovery. My growl of anger swallows the living room as I dial a number and speak before the other line has a chance to greet me.
"I need you to bring me someone."
ARIEL
"Mm." I moan stretching out my legs under my soft covers. God does sleeping feel good.
I could sleep forever.
"Non pi importa un cazzo, fallo adare via." That distinctive voice speaks. Am I dreaming about him again? Why does this keep happening to me.
I hum, basking in the thick Italian accent, and the deep voice that settles somewhere low in my stomach.
"Allora prova un coltello, non ti guiderò, attraverso esso." He sounds angry. How can my brain imagine him speaking Italian when I don't know any Italian? Is this some sort of-
"Vaffanculo Carlos." I jerk awake at the loud sound of a phone being slammed into something. "Merda, I did not want to wake you." he says, his expression as close to guilty as it probably ever gets.
"What?" I ask. What a dumb thing to say. Griffin cocks an eyebrow.
"What."
"What are you doing here?" I ask him, my hands clutching the covers to my chest. This is the most realistic of my dreams.
"This is my-"
"You're in my room now? God this is getting out of hand." I tightly close my eyes then open them again. He's still there. I blink more. "Why aren't you going away." I whisper under my breath.
"Are you still drunk? Or is this where I find out you're a psychopath." His shit eating, satisfied smirk is enough to confirm my suspicion. He's real. Dream Griffin is much nicer to me.
Drunk. Oh god. Last night runs through my head, sending me for a spin.
"No you insufferable-" he raises his brows again, challenging and self assured. I frown. "God my head hurts." I clutch it, letting the covers fall. I hear his sharp inhale at look up. "Thankyou for letting me stay here." I mumble, getting off the bed. I look down at my dress and grimace. How did I fall asleep in net. Ew.
I take a moment to look at him. White casual t-shirt, grey sweatpants resting low on his hips. The muscles of his back, ripple with the effort of his movements, strong massive arms, littered with tattoos. Oh god he is so hot. I never knew he had tattoos.
"Check your phone. It's been going off all morning." he gestures breaking me out of my ogling. I look at my phone on the nightstand.
I faintly remember texting Blake that I would be spending the night at a friends so no one should be worried about me-
They're all from Lucia.
She probably just wants to ask what happened. She's the only one who knows I was on a date. I said I was going out with friends to everyone else.
I'll call her later.
