'Was it worth the wait?" he whispers to me, all breath. Flashes me a white smile, teeth bright white against his surrounding brown features.
Butterflies.
All around, flapping wings in my heart, hitting my chest violently.
I can't tell if these wings fluttering in my ears are his or mine, pressed against his firm chest that I am.
Cameron's curly brown hair obscures his gaze, but I don't need to look into his dark eyes to tell how soft they are, locked into mine.
Yesterday, this was just an impossible scenario I'd linger in while looking over the most wanted criminal's files provided to me by Dad— I was supposed to hunt the criminal down and bring him to my father— (that asshole makes me do all his bidding.)
A day ago this was a dream.
Now it was reality.
Me, daughter of the CEO— and Grayson, the CEO's nemesis— were lying in the same bed. Ofcourse, he's not just my dad's nemesis, but the entire city's. That includes me, too.
Mariah Kent Lockheart and Cameron Grayson had just made love.
That sounds amazing.
"—I've asked you something, love."
I jerk out of my irrational thoughts.
I'mnotreadytospeakI'mnotreadytospeak "It was amazing, doesn't that go unsaid? Why, did you not have a good time?" I try hard to sound much less flustered than I really am and just end up sounding almost angry.
His choked laugh vibrates through my body "Yes, yes, of course, my bad."
I frown, more insulted than reassured. "Did you not like last night, Mr.Grayson? Have you concluded I am not to your taste after using me?"
I shock myself just as much as him with my harsh tone. But then he laughs, an entire-body-shaking kind of laughter that I feel more than hear. But I wasn't cracking any joke.
I genuinely loved everything yesterday, and the risk of it added to the fun, especially the fact that we shouldn't have been doing whatever we were. I wanted him to reciprocate that feeling, he was the cause of it.
Plus, I can't help but feel that he's hiding something from me, and that was eating at my insecurity.
He pokes a finger between my brows to ease out my frown. Tucks my hair behind my ear and it makes me feel something beyond butterflies.
"Sorry, sweetheart. But it was amazing, doesn't that 'go unsaid'?" he mocks, and I laugh.
I hadn't cut my hair in months and that was showing up now, strands of holographic silver hair locks and threads laid scrambled across the sheets, radiating colour-filled refractions on Cameron's body.
We fall into comfortable silence as he spins my hair across his fingers and brings his hand closer to his face, breathing it in.
He's playing with my hair.
The city's most wanted villain is playing with my hair. God, I love this.
But I can't help but notice the contrast of my silver hair gliding across his brown fingers, the paleness of my skin against the color of his. The reflection of my siren-like eyes in his warm brown ones that radiate innocence.
A visual reminder we are not alike, not meant to be lying in the same sheets.
But for all I care, this just makes me feel like we balance each other out.
And a very dangerous thought flickers in my head— We could continue this.
This might actually work out.