***Eleven***

He drove us down the pass, switched on his hazards and pull off road. The handsome devil turned his complete attention towards me. "Firstly, you do know that it's a crime to stare and not to mention undressing me so shamelessly in front of the crowd," his statement has a rhetorical ring to it. "It's really a shame how little damage my eyes did, seeing how you're not running around completely exposed," I countered sarcastically. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat which made me smirk internally. "How can you shift so easily from being an adult towards a toddler or even a savaged angel?" His question sounds genuine but the savage part pained me more then I care to admit. I dare not show it, I swallow my pride. "It's a rare ability that the female species had been gifted with. Thank God that you're not a feminine whisperer or else you would have known all of our secrets," I barked cynically. "Are you being serious right now?" I gave him a little seductive wink before responding much too quickly, "Baby you know it; I'm as serious as a heart attack." I gulped as realization struck me. Had I just given him a lame pet name? His eyes bore through my soul. I can't seem to look elsewhere; it feels as if invincible fingers are keeping me in place. I'm not that week little girl whose been engulfed by teenage hormones. It took while to transform into this version of me, time can do that to you and I had a lot of it on my hands. Six years to be precise. In that period I've picked up the shards and altered into a better person. Being around Misha Anderson seems to turn me back into that 17 year old form, which I don't particularly hate.

Before I could test my theory he leaned in closer and pressed his lips firmly against mine. My arms snaked around him, like gravity had mysteriously vanished. My fingers started playing with the longer hair in the nape of his neck. His hands gripped my hips while Misha's tongue slipped into my mouth and played tickle-toe with mine. Euphoria washed over me as his left hand slide down and came into contact with a patch of bare skin. I pulled away unexpectedly, my lungs in need of a gasp of air. I stared up into his hooded eyes, lust and desire licks at his gaze. Throwing me completely over the edge. I scrambled over the gearshift and sat upon his lap. The throbbing bulge in his pants pressed against my heat, that's dripping with anticipation. I attacked his lips with my own. The passionate moment got so intense and needy that he started to grind against me. A low moan spilled out of my mouth. I can tell that the vibration against his lips is driving him insane. Misha pulls up my dress, teasingly slow, mid-waist and gave one of my butt cheeks a firm squeeze which rewarded him with another moan. I throw my head backwards giving him full access. He peppered my collarbone with a train of soft kisses as he thrust more intensely against my closed up core. One of his hands snaked up my skin and cupped my breast underneath the dress, while the other made its way into my soaked pantie. I turn into a whimpering mess as he drew circular patterns over my heat while his thumb fiddles with one of my pink buds. I move against his hand, quietly begging him, as his erection twitched against the seam of his pants.

A sudden honk of a vehicle beside us brought us down from our high. "Not trying to ruin your heated reunion but Shaun is about to call the police and report you guys as missing," the guy in the other car quipped. An unstable breath rolled from Misha's lips. "Thanks Simon, we'll be there in a minute," he assured the other man. My eyes grew wide in shock as I asked: "Was that Simon Jefferson?" He nodded as I climbed off his lap. The person that interrupted our moment, already gone. Misha looked down at his pants and threw his head back with a heavy sigh. He grunted in irritation. I lay my hand against his thigh and asked as I bite down on my bottom lip, "Would you like me to help you with that?" Before he could answer any which way, I fold my hand around his dick and massaged it. A soft moan crossed his lips; the sound is like heaven to my ears. He regained himself momentarily and wrapped his hand around mine urging me to stop. "Thank you for the kind gesture, but we have to get back to the reception and I won't be able to drive with your hand on my crotch," he physically begged of me. I pull my hand away from his and turn my attention towards the window. "Just drive," I said through clenched teeth, as rejection bubbles into motion. "Come on Gen, it's not like that," he started but I cut him off. The nerve of some men, he just had his hand in my underwear, but I am not allowed to touch him. "The name's Genevieve and yeah, it's precisely like that. Seems that you might have changed into a fuckboy," I remarked coldly as I turn my face to look at him for a second. "Sure, whatever," Misha said as he put the car into drive and made a U-turn. As he rode up the pass he mumbled something under his breath, still it reached my ears: "If only she could see how much she turns me on." I don't think that it had been intended to reach my auricles; therefore I ignored it, keeping him under the false impression that I haven't heard a thing. If only he could see how much he excites me and how I'm throbbing for his attention. If only he could see me for the woman I've become and not the 17 year old tease that he seems to see me as.