"How about this weekend?" Terrance asks as we take our sets for AP lit, taking out our homework in the process. "I know a great place."
Nixon flashes through my head. Those eyes, those words. I offer Terrance a soft smile, hesitant to respond. He wouldn't hurt Terrance though, he wouldn't do anything like that, he'd simply warn me off.

"Sure, why not."

For the rest of the day Terrance is on cloud nine as we pass by the hours. Taylor is back at school today, and Adam is still missing. The police have begun their searching for the boy, looking through every place they can think of. Detectives are on the case and papers are out already to find him.

Tomorrow they begin the search in the woods, they begin going in. It's weird how the town has a thick line of trees around it, almost like a wall. Many people live by the forest, their backyards basically are the cluster of trees.

Grabbing a handful of chips, I follow Oliver down the hall to our lockers. "Study session tonight at my place," he offers and I shake my head.

"The Adams have invited my family over for another dinner."

Oliver grabs my arm gently, pulling me aside into an empty classroom seeing as school was out thirty minutes ago and we just had music. "What is it?" I ask, watching Oliver as he shuts the door.

"We need to talk," Emily says from behind. Looking back, I see her sitting on the teacher's desk, her new hair color is lilac with a hint of silver. "About that night when-

"When you guys were doing something weird?" I ask, gaining a nod from the two of them. "Well then, carry away. What's the topic of this?"

"Lily, Maxwell isn't the kind of guy someone like you would want to get familiar with."

"And why not?" I ask, crossing my arms as Nixon runs through my mind. "For all I've seen, you guys almost worship the group he's on. Hell, Oliver, your mom even covered for me that night. Why do you respect him so much?!"

They stare blankly at me. "Are you part of some cult and he's like some elder?" My last comment is a joke, only, the two don't take it like a joke as Emily lets out a deep breath.

"Lily, what has he talked to you about? Has he told you anything...drastic?"
Drastic?

Well, besides the fact that he's told me he basically want to have sex with me and keep me- God, when I put it like that he sounds like a creep. But I'll admit, even though we barely do anything, his personality intrigues me and I want to know more.

"No, nothing."

Emily looks defeated as she lowers her head. "I saw you play piano a night ago."

"I always play pi-

"In his house late at night."

My skin runs pale. "I'm not having sex with him, Oliver. I'm simply giving him company. Why the hell are you guys up in my face about this?!"

I throw my hands up in the air, frustrated with my two friends. "That piano hasn't been touched in years since-

"And that's that," Emily interrupts.

"Since when, Oliver?" I ask, knowing there's something the two of them are keeping from me. "What do I-

"Since he moved that instrument there," Emily snaps.

I leave. I don't spend another minute with my friends as I rush out of the room. It's unreal how they just treated me, how they try and warn me about someone I've become to know as a good person, under a mysterious mask and isolated personality.

As I get home, I'm changing for dinner tonight, my mom finishing up baking the desert as I slide a pair of black jeans over my legs and a deep purple shirt over my head. The shirt has a low v in the back, forcing me to wear a low-clasp bra do the back, the front a small v dip, barely above the swell. This shirt has always made me feel good. Pair with ankle boots and my hair pulled back in a bun, my mom calls me down to help her out.

The cake is white, a soft frosting over the top with strawberries laid across like a forming crown. "Lily, go and tell you dad we're going."

By the time we are all in the car, Taylor is busy explaining to our parents about her chemistry test grade and I'm pushing in my headphones. My parents take the route I've found so familiar now, the route I've driven every night.

In fifteen minutes I'm standing outside the front door, my parents with me, and my eyes looking at Nixon's house. It's no different like the rest, all the lights off and not a single sign of a soul.

"Come on in," Mrs. Adams greets with a massive smile. "My husband is just finishing up a chat with our neighbor in the living room. They won't be long."

Neighbor?

Mrs. Adams leads our family into the dining room, Zayne waving as his brother, Brain, is already greeting my parents. I take the seat by Zayne, ignoring his constant scares as my mother and father comment of the delightful smell from the kitchen.

"So, how are things at the office?"
My father goes off about some new sales pitch as Taylor talks to my mother about some friend gathering tomorrow. Zayne and Brain begin some conversation about the upcoming Super Bowl and I just stare ahead at the window before me, wondering what Nixon is up to.

Just as Zayne taps me on the shoulder, Mr. Adams enters the dining room, and right behind him, in all of his mysterious glory, stands Nixon Maxwell, clad in another Italian suit and his hair a tad messy from a day of work.

Oh, God, this can't be good.

"I hope you don't mind, but Nixon Maxwell was here at this time talking with me and I invited him for the dinner."

"Oh, we don't mind at all," my father comments, helping Mrs. Adams as she brings over a spare chair, and just my luck, it's set on the opposite side of my place.

A feeling develops at the pit of my stomach as Nixon greets my parents with his name, saying he's just down the street. Right away, my dad hits it off with that man whose house I've even venturing to non-stop as we both know our relationship will only get more risky. My father ends up in deep conversation as the meal starts and I try to not focus too much on the scent of the male I just want to roll around in like some dog.

Deciding to distract myself, I end up having a decent conversation with Zayne over school, only, the whole time I can't take my mind off the man before me, off of the feel his touch gives me, off of the ways he makes me feel so aggravated yet turned on all at once.

"Yes, I have two daughters and a son. My son is currently overseas in Spain and these are my girls, Taylor, and Lily."

My cheeks heat up, my body reacting instantly under his dark gaze, under the gaze that makes me want to crawl across the table and do some PDA. "Hello," Nixon greets, his voice deep and velvety, his eyes black as they briefly trail down to the slopes of my breasts. The breasts he's buried his face in more than once as he gets moans from me.

I quickly snap out of those thoughts as I reply with a shy hello and go back to my Brazilian meal Mrs. Adams prepared. The woman can cook for sure.

Soon, my mother starts up a conversation with Nixon over Cancun, talking about the vacation she had there as he goes next to describe his. Out of it, I learn Nixon knows how to sail a boat, and I have no doubt he's got to look amazing in only-

Shut up, I mentally snap at myself, deciding to cut my meal with the knife. As I continue my slicing, I only draw attention. Before I know it, Zayne is tapping my shoulder. "Lily, you'll cut into the plate if you continue."

Looking down, I see my meal already freshly cut through and my knife just moving along the China plate.
"Oh."

For the rest of the meal my parents laugh and chat with the Adams and Nixon, only making me feel worse. They have no idea that the man I've skipped school for is talking with them.
Mrs. Adams begins to collect the plates and I offer my help, getting to my feet and reaching for the plates.

Instantly, I feel a heated gaze upon the valley of my breasts, only to linger on my face seconds more. Turning around, I feel his eyes on my exposed back as I grab the last plate from my side and scurry along to the kitchen. A chair moves across the wooden floor and as I go out of view from the guests, Mrs. Adams only leaves with the dessert, asking for me to grab the dessert forks.
Just as my fingers reach for the silver utensils, hands grip my hips and a warm breath blows against my cheek. "I want to see you at my place when you're done here," he speaks, one of his hands trailing to my back, feeling my skin as it becomes alive under his touch. "And I'd advise you not to wear something so revealing for an innocent dinner next time."

"I can't lie to my parents again. What do I tell them? I've used so many in the book." I express, turning around only to meet his pitch black eyes. "Why do they do that?"

"What?"

"Your eyes, turning black sometimes," I explain, his fingers drawing circles upon my skin. "Nixon?"

"Come tonight and I tell, don't come and you won't know."

I bite my cheek, knowing he's already got me hooked. "Fine, just don't freak me out when I arrive," I comment, grabbing the set amount of forks.
Turning into the dining hall, I hear his mutter a single statement. "No promises."

What does he mean?

<><>

Dry mouth and sweaty palms, I make my way up the front steps and grasp the door knob. As always, it's unlocked as I push through as if I've been here for years.

Setting my keys in the living room, I cross my arms as I look around. Spotless as usual. So spotless all the time it makes me think if he's OCD. I step out of the room, down the grand hall as my heart starts to beat violently within my chest.

As I near the backyard, I see him, there, out on the porch, his body highlighted by the moon as he's changed from a suit into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, still looking flawless.

Sliding open the door, he doesn't move as I approach him, the cold nipping at my exposed back from the shirt I wear. When I got home I told my parents that I'd be out with Emily for the night, a date night of sorts with her and two other girls. My parents bought it like all the other times, agreeing to let me have my freedom at home before I'm off in the real world.

Approaching the man who I have become to associate with shadows, instead of standing behind him until he notices, I stand right beside him, looking up at the moon with him as we stand in the dead silence of the night. "So..." I trail off, bouncing of the balls of my feet as the wind blows my pinned up hair. God, I'm glad it's held back tonight. "Is this some hobby just to watch the moon?"

I watch the rising and falling of his chest, the sculpted body I want to run my hands all over, the man I want to claim as mine for everyone to know. "Nixon?"

His head snaps back to me, watching with one single emotion in his eyes as his gaze is locked upon me. "Nixon." Suddenly, he turns to me, taking a step forward, like a predator, his shoulders square, his posture tall, claiming dominance as my heart rate increases. Every single movement he makes reminds me of a wolf before it kills, before it pounces on its helpless prey and sinks it's teeth into the poor creature's neck.

"I've been thinking."

"Have you?" I ask, finding myself backed up against the entrance to what I believe is the lounge area. My fingers push the handle and the door opens, not allowing me to become trapped.

Nixon follows as if on autopilot, making me become a slight bit more frightened for my life. "What have you been thinking about?"

My hand is held in a tight grip, strong muscles pulling me forward into a hard chest.

I'm cradled into his chest, his heartbeat echoing in my ears as my body yearns to have him on me, to do things to me no one has ever done.

"Nixon, what have you been thinking about lately?" I ask, trying once more to claim an answer from this male.
I'm hoisted a tad off the ground, my feet dangling as he begins a swift walk.
In no time the cold railing of the stairs is against my bare back and a gasp escapes my lips.

Nixon wastes no time as his lips are on mine, strong arms holding my body close as I'm pinned against the rail. My hands fall to his torso, running along the ridges of his muscles as a moan surpasses my lips.

As if my body as a mind of its own, my legs wrap around his hips, grinding in as a low groan comes from his. Pulling away, I raise an eyebrow. "What's with the growl-

He doesn't stop, he claims my lips once again and ascends the stairs with me holding onto him, not only for support as I'm carried, but also for the thirst I feel to have every inch of him against me.

Clothes begin to annoy me as I find my hands under his shirt, his warm skin tickling mine as I pull of the shirt. For sure he's a fine specimen of the male species. I'll never deny that no matter how much I'm paid. Hands wrap around my shirt, and the splitting sound of fabric tells me I've got to go shopping.

My hands land upon his shoulders, trying to drink in more as my back hits the feeling of wood. His hands are quick as he throws open the door and starts a new attack, one upon my neck.
And I know, as I enter this room, my legs around him, there's no turning back this time. I know this time there will be no interruptions to stop the sin that will soon occur.

Lips.

Hands.

My body lands against the silk of the bed, the bra I once wore stripped from me as I find myself wanting even more.

Warm breath.

Hot hands.

The feeling of need.

Lust.

My pants are discarded as lips latch onto my left breast, my hands finding his hair as I pull, hard.

I'm left bare.

I'm exposed.

I'm content yet scared.

Heart beat increasing.

Unsteady breaths.

His hands on me.

In no time Nixon is just as exposed as I am, making his way down to my core as my back arches once the unusual feeling hits.

I'm doing this.

I'm doing something I never wanted anyone but a man I was to marry wanted to.

"Nixon."

It's not a sign to stop, it's not a noise that warns him, it's a noise that escapes my mouth as my brain cannot function any longer.

His mouth.

Oh God, his mouth.

A vulgar word leaves my mouth hastily, and before I know it, his lips are back on mine as he comments about my body, about my tightness, my core, about how he wants to see me like this all the time.

Will he discard me after this?

All of me screams that he won't, that, just like me, I want more.

I want all of it.

The tearing of paper.

Pain

Stiffness.

I hiss, feeling myself grow full as he grunts.

My body feels as if it's on fire, his lips coming down to swallow the sounds of pain. Every so often a word is whispered against my ear, telling me to relax.

And I do.

Pleasure.

Pride.

A feeling I want to always have.
My mouth betrays me as I say words that make him go faster, that's make him burry himself deeper as my noises become non-stop.

I'm building up, building up to a moment I've only read about.
Just as I'm about to release, lips lock around a certain spot of my neck, causing me to jerk forward at a new found touch, one that brings pleasure I never knew existed.

He bites down, hard, and as he does, I hit my peak, coming down from my high as his hands run through my hair and over my body, telling me how I'm great, how I'm amazing, how he loves what I do when he touches me.

My neck is sore, almost too sore as he pulls out, a whimper leaving my mouth at the feeling of loosing him.

"Nixon," I breath out, trying hard to catch my breath as he leans his forehead against mine.

"Yes?" He asks, his eyes so dark and deadly, a color that makes me want to push him down and claim him like he did me.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

Once again, as I look into those dark eyes, I see so much.

Just as I close my eyes for a short second, my neck begins to burn. My fingers moving up to itch the feeling away. His hands grab mine, telling me no as it burns even more. "What's that feeling?" I ask, pleading with my eyes as a smirk crosses his lips.

"That, my dearest Lily, is me telling the world that you belong to me."

Another kiss and I'm forgetting the pain of my neck as we start over again, the feelings I've learned to love coming back as I arch my back.

"And tell me, Lily," he grunts in between his movements. "Who do you belong to?"

"You," I scream out, feeling him drive deeper than before as I meet those eyes, those pitch black eyes that cause me to gasp and want even more. "Only you."

"And it better stay that way," he whispers as all I see within his eyes is more than just complete dominance.

Anger.

Passion.

Hate.

Love.

Lust.

And most of all, the reflection of my eyes as I only pray my parents will never find out.