Elizabeth's P.O.V-
"Where are we going?" I ask Cross.
We've walked up to the second floor of the house, and have passed several doors. My hand starts to feel sweaty in his, but he doesn't seem affected by it.
"Somewhere secluded." My eyes widen, he catches this. "I'm not going to hurt you or anything Eliza, I'm not that type of guy. You can trust me." We stop at a door at the end of the hall. It's long and black. A sign that says "Enter or die" is on the front of it.
"Whose room is this?"
"Mine." He pushes open the door and guides me in. Once the door is shut, it becomes quiet. The music and chanting of the people are muffled through the door. It's just Cross and me, in his room, with a bed. I hope he doesn't think we're going to have sex, I'm not that type of girl. I mean, I could be that girl, just not with a guy I barely know.
I look around curiously. His whole room is black, literally all black. Black posters, comforter, desk, and his windows are tinted. How the hell is he allowed to tint the windows? I see a safe on the floor, by his dresser, which is also black. It looks like one of those safes that mafia bosses have when they're trying to hide documents or guns.
"What's up with the safe?" I say, bending down and knocking on it.
"You really want to know?" He smirks. He lifts off his dresser and comes over to me. One of his hands splays on my back.
"That's why I asked the question."
He chuckles, then leans into my ear. I stand straight as an arrow when his voice fogs over my ear, "There's a double-action revolver and over 10,000 dollars inside." I jerk away from him so quickly, I thought I would break my neck.
"What the- are fucking kidding me! I will not be in the same room as a gun, you've got the wrong bitch." I try to move to the door, but he blocks it.
"I'm joking, Eliza."
"I don't believe you."
I watch him bend down, his fingers twiddle against the safe's lock. I can hear clicking as he gives out the combination. It pops open, and I brace myself for what's to come out. It's. . .weed. Pounds and pounds of weed.
"Why do you have over 10 pounds of weed, in a frat house at that?" I question. Oh, what am I saying, it's the perfect place to sell weed.
It plops down at my silver-heeled feet, "I sell it to college kids, my best days are at parties like this. Bunch of students just wanting to get high and forget about their troubles, I'm like fucking Santa Claus to these kids." He lifts me off the ground and walks up to me. I don't lean away from him this time. "I'm on financial aid, meaning that only half my shit gets paid for, and I'm not looking to be 20,000 dollars in debt, so I sell weed to pay for it. All of us can't have rich mommies and daddies as you do."
"How do you know my parents have money? You better not be stalking me, I swear. I know how to fight."
His fingers play with the hem of my dress, "I know Bridget, she's never worked a day in her life. Always has the new phone, and her car, it's a 2021 BMW i4, there's no way she bought that one her own."
"You're right. Bridget's a hard worker when she wants to be." I try to say this with a straight face, but can't." We both start to laugh. "Hey! Don't laugh, that's my fucking sister!"
"Sorry, sorry." The room becomes silent, his fingers still lingering on the hem of my dress. His fingers graze against my leg, I don't move. Once he sees that it's ok, his hands come to my waist, pulling me close to him. "You look good, tonight. I watched you across the room, and thought, wow, this girl is so fucking fine how could she be alone."
"I don't trust men, their assholes who all have STDs." He cackles at this, burrowing his head into the crease of my neck, he kisses it lightly. Does he think I'm joking?
"I can assure you, I don't have an STD." His kisses go from my neck to collar bone, I cling my hands onto his jacket.
A small moan leaves my lips, I can feel one of his hands slide down to my butt, I push it right back up. "No groping." The only person I'll allow to touch me like that is- is-
"Sorry." He sighs. Cross redirects me against the wall, my arms are pinned over my head. I watch as he trails kisses from the base of my neck to the mounds on my chest. He kisses the tops of them gently. "Is this, ok? I don't want to be doing anything you don't want."
"It's fine, I like it." My voice comes out shallow, his lips on mine feel good. I can feel my breath increasing with every touch of his lips to me. He's so fucking attractive, it's fucking disgusting.
"Can I kiss you?" He looks up at me with hooded eyes.
"Yes." They collide with mine; the kiss was aggressive and in no way comforting. I keep going, there's something inside of me, stirring around. This doesn't feel right, why doesn't it feel right? His kisses feel good, like a normal kiss, but not electric like- like-
Those hands, lips, his smell it's not right, not familiar. I can feel his nails claw at my dress, trying to touch me all over. Fevering kisses land on my jaw, neck, collarbone, breast and now he's groping my breast, they play with my blunged nipples. They don't harden, not like they do with-with-
Oh fuck.
I don't want Cross, I know I should since he checks all the boxes. A sexy black man who sells illegal weed, and would probably kill for me, I know for sure he has a gun around here somewhere. He's a modern-day mob boss. But there's only one man that can satisfy me, and I hate to admit it but- it's Andreas.
My body will only respond to Andreas.
I have to get out of here, having him touch me is making me sick to my core.
"Cross, Cross I can't do this." He moves away from me; heat is in his eyes.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I am."
He smiles, "It's ok, no problem." I can see him readjusting his junk.
I readjust my dress, grab my bag, and head for the door. "Eliza?"
"Yeah?" I turn to him.
"Anytime you want to, you know, let me know." He bites his lip, staring clearly at my ass.
"I will." I shut the door and head down the hall, squeezing through the crowd.
87Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoGMriBBylw
