Dorran:Get in there.
I stand and head towards the porcelain bathroom on the right side of my office. Once I’m inside, I lock the door and press my back against the tile wall next to the massive mirror.
I can feel my heartbeat at the base of my throat, and it’s crazy because all I’ve done is walk into a damn bathroom, and I’m already spiked on adrenaline.
I guess this is what happens when you give into your impulses.
Or obey a guy’s random command – someone you’ve barely known for a little over a day.
I work on maintaining my stupid breathing as I text Dorran back.
Me:Alright, I’m inside.
A second later, my phone vibrates in my hand with an incoming video call from him.
Good God, this guy is a walking, talking jeopardy to my existence. I’ve never felt more like a sneaky teenager than I do right now.
It’s fucking insane how willingly I do things he wants me to. But then again, I’m too reckless not to, so there’s that.
I answer the call, and Dorran’s face immediately takes over my screen.
“Hello, Little Swan,” he says in that scotch-smooth voice of his, and just like that, I’m sucked right back into the endless vortex of his allure.
10.
Dorran’s in a dimly lit, brick-walled room. There’re a couple of punching bags behind him, a few pairs of boxing gloves hung up on long nails that seem to be hammered into the wall, along with idle metal chairs strewn haphazardly around the area.
The overhead lights appear mostly fluorescent, and cast a subtle shadow over his side profile, making him look more beautiful than he already is.
His hair is slightly damp, and beads of sweat are running down the column of his strong neck. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that’s all but clinging to his chest, and when I bring my gaze back to his face, I see the sharp contours of his features appear furthermore accentuated against the lights above him.
“I know you’ve got a reputation to uphold,” I begin, “but you’re taking the aesthetic gamewaytoo seriously right now.”
His lips twitch. “And I knowyou’vegot one to maintain as well, but this…” He jerks his head forward. “This seems kinda extensive, don’t you think?”
I move the phone around a bit so that I can show him the mirror and vanity area next to me. “What, the bathroom?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is that really a bathroom, though?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, why?”
He places his right elbow on top of the back rail of his chair, then lifts a shoulder. “Looks too fucking pristine for it to be one.”
“And bathrooms can’t be pristine because…?”
He scoffs. “I don’t know; maybe because all you do in there is shit and piss.” He clicks his tongue. “I mean, an occasional quickie too, if you’re feelin’ like it, but that doesn’t mean your bathroom needs to look like a fucking dollhouse or something.”
I laugh. “I can’t believe you’re complaining aboutthis,” I tell him.
“It’s an unnecessary show of wealth,” he states. “I find it icky.”
“I respect that.” I smile at him. “But I didn’t build this place; my mom did.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from her,” he remarks.
“Have you met her, then?”
Dorran rolls his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to sneak into your bathroom to talk about yourmom, Cignette.” He leans back in his chair. “Show me those tits of yours so that I can get a damn boner.”
