(Kyle)
I need to stop…
…But she’s right.
I can’t control how I feel –I missed it.
I missed her.
I missed this.
Ace’s orders…
I can’t think straight.
It’s getting late.
I pull away from her. I stare down at her. My shadow is casted over her face as she looks up at me, breathless. We’re inches apart –and I have to fight myself not to kiss her again –deeper this time –harder this time.
Stop before it’s too late.
“Do you remember,” I whisper, hesitant, “the games we used to play when we were younger?”
Her hands dip under my T-shirt and slow their way up my abdomen. She bites her lip. “How could I forget?”
I back away from her slightly, my hand pressed to the wall beside her –my face tilted to look down at hers. “Do you remember how we would pretend to be the big guys?”
“And how we deemed ourselves the royal rebels?” She adds, scoffing. “Do you really think I’d forget?”
“You’re a slave, Tony,” I say, exasperatedly. “You should forget it.”