Warning: mild suggestive content ahead.

Innocent

"Who were you texting?"

At this moment I realize that Yerin really messed him up, and I know he doesn't mean to be this jealous—to basically accuse me of cheating—but his subconscious is clearly still wounded by her.

"It was just Junwoo. He was sending me memes."

He just stares at me as people walk past us, packing things up.

"I couldn't watch you two," I mumble this, but he hears me. A perplexed expression takes hold of his features.

"Why?"

"Because you two looked so perfect."

He grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "To me, you look perfect. Don't ever put yourself down like that."

I'm relieved to see his sweet eyes looking back at me—the cold and distant look gone.

"Please trust me," I whisper this, referring to his accused tone from before.

He looks into both of my eyes, understanding what I'm talking about. He sighs, hand dropping from my chin.

"I'm sorry Sohee. I know I shouldn't but I guess I still worry about it." His hand runs through his hair, a sad frown formed on his face.

"It's okay. Eventually, you'll forget about her."

His gaze lays heavy on me, pausing to comprehend my words.

"God, I don't deserve you." He leans his forehead against mine, a nervous smile on his lips.

I kiss the smile away and watch it turn from nervous to playful.

"Come with me." He grabs my hand and we walk back into the dressing room. Eunji and her assistants are packing up their things.

"Bye Taeyoung," she sweetly says.

For the first time, I see her smile, at him. Then it immediately drops into the nastiest look I've seen in a long time, a look directed at me. Taeyoung doesn't catch it, for his back is turned away.

I don't like her.

I turn around to see Taeyoung unbuttoning his shirt. He looks up at me, his expression soon changing into a smirk.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm stealing your job." He drops his hands from his shirt and walks towards me.

"W-what?" I stutter, now realizing that the small room is empty.

His hands slowly grab my own, long fingers wrapping around my small ones. Then he brings my hands to the shirt, forming them to hold onto the hems.

It becomes harder for me to breathe, as if the oxygen is draining out of the room, forcing me to gasp for air. I focus on the button my fingers are on. Maybe if I don't look at his face I'll be okay.

So with flushed cheeks, I turn my attention attentively to the cream button, popping it out of the hole and making sure that my fingers don't touch the skin beneath. I carefully go down the line, the top of my head burning from his eyes, which pierce through me.

When I reach the bottom button my whole body moves against my will until it gently hits a wall. Taeyoung stares at my lips for a moment, then at my reddened cheeks. He smirks, his lips turning up on one corner as if pulled by an invisible string. Then he kisses my lips feverishly.

I fall victim to him and move my lips along with his. When I reach my palms out to rest against his chest, I feel his skin instead of fabric like I expected. My gasp falls into his mouth, he consumes it and continues to devour the rest of my lips. And because why the hell not, I decide to move my hands across his chest.

It is as smooth as it looks. As my fingers lightly skim over his skin, I am reminded of running tap water and the feeling of bringing your finger close enough to feel it flowing down. Soft, almost as if it isn't there. But when I push down with more force I feel the muscle behind the skin, twitching from my movements.

His lips move down to my neck, latching onto the mark from yesterday.

"Taeyoung, you're going to make it even darker," I whine at him, trying to pull away from his lips.

He quickly pokes his head up. "That's the point."

Then he begins to suck my neck. I can feel my blood pulsing, rushing to the area where his lips come into contact with my neck. I can almost envision the pink spot growing darker, getting tainted by his devilish lips.

His breath softly hits the burning mark. "Finish your job."

I hold my breath, frozen in bewilderment.

Do I? I become incredibly self-aware of my body, how it's positioned, how awkward my palms feel on his chest now. I'm so damn nervous, but my mind is clouded by him in the most heavenly way.

I want to obey him, and I don't really know why.

So I hesitantly glide the silk shirt off one of his shoulders, watching its weight fall and hang off his body. Then the other shoulder. Down his arm it falls, cascading down and turning into a puddle below his feet.

"Good girl," he whispers in my ear before nibbling on my earlobe with his lips.

I want to scream out profanities at this moment, he is driving me absolutely insane. And I can't help but like it. A lot.

My breaths now come out as heavy pants, my chest heaving. He slides my own jacket off, his hands running down my bare arms.

"Next."

His eyes are hooded now—dark as they look into mine. He looks so sexy, with the soft brown eyeshadow emphasizing his eye shape.

What am I doing?

Screw it.

I unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. My hands tremble as they lightly pull his pants down from his hips. The rest falls down, landing with his shirt.

He pushes against me even more, inhaling my lips once again. I moan against him, something I haven't actually heard myself do before.

Summer, Summer, Summer. Slow down. My conscience does it's best to get a hold of me. But it's so hard to resist him.

Not here.

A growling vibration leaves his mouth while kissing me and I shiver from the sound. It's undeniably the sexiest noise I've ever heard, and I gasp from this new aggressive side of him.

But then I become aware of something pushing against my abdomen and my eyes open when I finally realize what it is.

"Taeyoung, Taeyoung!" I pull away, laughing nervously.

"Yes?" He looks at me with a feigned innocent expression. What a liar.

"I'm not ready."

More like I don't want to lose my damn virginity in a dressing room.

He looks at my face for a bit, mouth open as he breathes heavily. Then he sighs, "I know baby, I'm sorry."

He retreats, his body leaving mine cold. I look at his sullen face as he picks up the fallen clothes and puts them on the rack.

I feel like shit.

"Wait." The word pops out before I have time to realize what I'm going to do.

"What?"

I look down at his black boxers, my cheeks surely blood red now. "I should at least—" I take a deep breath as I look up at the ceiling. "I mean—I feel bad, so—"

"I don't know what to say." I'm a stuttering mess.

A smile grows on his face before he chuckles at me. He walks back up to me, his hands coming to my cheeks.

"What are you saying Sohee?"

"Don't look at me like that," I pout.

"You feel bad for what?"

"For—you know."

"Know what?" His smile implies that he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"For making you excited," I mumble quickly.

"What was that?" His hand cups around his ear, mouth open in amusement.

"I hate you," I mutter.

"It's called an erection Sohee."

I squeal at him, my hands covering my eyes. He laughs, eyes closed into slits.

"You really are innocent aren't you."

My heart pumps fiercely from these words. I don't like him calling me that, and I don't really know why. It's not like I'm naive and clueless, I'm just inexperienced. Extremely inexperienced.

"No." I refuse to be called innocent.

He raises his eyebrows at me, "Oh?"

"Lock the door." If I'm going to do this, there's no way I'm risking being caught.

He tilts his head to the side, eyebrows crossed in confusion. Sighing with what seems like impatience but is really nerves, I walk to the door and turn the lock. With a deep breath, I shake the nerves out of my fingertips as I walk back towards him. Relax idiot.

He looks adorable with his perplexed expression, I can't help but smile at him.

Then I get down on my knees in front of him.

The look on his face is priceless.

. . .

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Love,

Sooaura