Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 36
“At. The. Last. Fücking. Minute.”
Biscuit groaned, going full-on mope mode.
“Just smack me already and call me a dirty bästard. I’ll just go home, watch Baywatch and die alone.”
I was doing my best to keep a stern face as I got up.
“Come on. I can smack you in the car.”
He took out his wallet, resigned. The waiter came to our table, looking at the food left on our plates.
“Is everything alright, madam?” He asked me, concerned. “Is the food not to your liking?”
I gave him a genuine smile.
“The food was lovely. I just have an early day tomorrow. We’ll definitely stop by again sometime.”
Biscuit looked up hopefully. It was plain weird how much he resembled an orphan puppy right then.
I gave him my best bîtch face.
He went back to moping.
We put on our coats, and headed to the front door. Biscuit almost subconsciously held the door open for me and while he didn’t notice the gesture, I certainly did.
We walked back to the parking lot, him mumbling, me trying my hardest not to ruin this by doing something stupid. Like laughing.
The parking lot had a few cars parked, but otherwise it was dark and deserted.
Biscuit just about to get in the car when I caught his shirt in a fist. I pushed him back against the window glass, one hand on his chest, the other holding his tie. He looked at me in stunned silence : for once, I knew I’d caught him completely by surprise.
“What are you doing?” He asked, quietly.
“I’m giving you another chance.” I said, pulling his tie down, so his lips barely touched mine.
Biscuit’s breathing got ragged real fast.
His arm snaked around my waist and pulled my body close to him. The other broke my grip and in a moment, he’d hauled me onto the hood, hitching my legs over his hip.
And just like that, my breath hitched and I was hot in places way too close to his chiselled body.
I definitely hadn’t thought this through.
In this light, Biscuit’s hair was dark as the night, his crystal blue eyes saturated with lust. He smelled like cologne and fresh spice. His muscles were tense and he reminded me of a caged animal.
I felt the cold metal of his ring as he brushed my lips.
“You told me you wanted a gentleman.” He said, his deep blue eyes darker than ever. “So I’ll give you one last chance to save yourself and find another one. Because we both know I’m not going to stop with one little peck on the lips.”
I ran a hand through his hair, as he looked at me like I was the centre of his universe.
“Stick to your playbook then.” I said, sounding bolder than I felt. “Shut up and don’t stop.”
He didn’t bother being gentle.
His kisses were hungry and passionate, raw in the wildest sense of the word. His fingers went straight for my shoulders, snapping the chains so the pearls fell to the pavement. His tongue skilfully made me forget everything but him, his hands tracing that low neckline with thinly veiled curiosity.
My fingers tangled in his hair, as he got me hot, hungry and hurting. I was completely at his mercy, and in that moment, I needed him like the very breath he’d stolen from me.
I knew then I was the only one who’d lost tonight.
I’d lost my control, my soul, my very sanity to this adorable, infuriating son of a bîtch.
As his lips left mine to kiss my neck, I whimpered in annoyance. He smiled in victory, nipping at my tender skin, leaving a mark.
” Mia.” He whispered in my ear. “Mia per sempre.”
I took a deep breath. “What does that mean?”
I needed to know.
“You’re mine.” Biscuit said, simply. “You’ve always been mine.”
I saw no point in protesting it anymore.
In that moment, he’d created our own little world, he’d stopped time in it, and he’d started a miracle.
If I didn’t believe in magic, I sure as hell did now.
Biscuit suddenly let go of me, and I almost fell face first on the ground.
What the actual fück?
I was one good explanation away from punching him. I sat cross legged on the car, extremely pissed off.
“After everything I put you through, that’s all you’ve got?” I was fuming. The saddest part of this being that I was still very much hot and bothered.
Dear God, I was definitely going to hell . “Some game you talk, mister.”
He wasn’t listening to me.
“Do you hear that?” Biscuit asked me, looking around, his eyes sharp.
And through my heated haze, I finally heard it. The rhythmic muffled beeping. It seemed to be coming from the car’s chassis. I jumped off the hood, looking underneath the car.
Four glowing red digits stared back at me, counting down.
“The car’s rigged. We need to get out of here.” I almost grabbed Biscuit’s hand. “Go on, do your disappearing gig.”
Biscuit closed his eyes and I followed suit, expecting that now familiar choke-the-air-out-of-you sensation of travelling a thousand miles a second. When I opened them again, I expected to see the Taj Mahal or something.
All I saw was a stunned Biscuit stranded in a car park, with a fücking bomb ten inches away.
The waiter, the wine, all of it came rushing back to me. And suddenly I knew why he seemed so familiar. Why I couldn’t possibly have recognised him.
I’d never seen his face after all.
I couldn’t help but think about how I got here in the first place : stalking Biscuit in a waitress costume.
I would’ve appreciated the irony. If I wasn’t scared of blowing up to bits, that is.
We didn’t have time, so we ducked behind the farthest car here, hitting the asphalt hard. The pearls on my back bit into my skin and my heels broke, but I didn’t care.
For the first time, I knew there was a very real possibility we could both die tonight.
The heat wave followed a blast of light and we were tossed away like paper dolls. I could feel the flames almost licking at my skin and the shards of glass piercing my arms.
I closed my eyes, feeling Biscuit’s hand in mine, suddenly feeling sadder than I ever had.
If that bästard dies after all this, I will fücking murder him.
Victoria : “Every LIKE saves a life.”