"What's the problem miss?" He asked her once again. When he asked the question the first time, she hasn't answered him.Lancelot thought it best to assume she did not hear him the first time. How could she? When all along she had been staring at his face. Her eyes subconsciously dancing from his lips, to his jaw, then his eyes again.It would have amazed him how fascinated she was with his physical being if he wasn't so used to it already. She wasn't the first and she certainly couldn't be the last.As he watched her blink rapidly before stepping away from him, Lancelot tucked both his hands into the pocket of his blue trousers.He just wished she would tell him how much she needed to get her car fixed so he could move on. He on the other hand, would have to toll his car away until he could get it fixed.His eyes travelled to the bonnet. With the damage the collision had done, it would take at least a day or two to get it comple
After paying the driver, she touched the door handle and turned to him. "Remember, stay close to me and do not say a word. I do the talking and you smile, shake hands and kiss my forehead when necessary." She turned away from him and opened the door. A thought crawled up to her head and she returned her face to his. "Note. I said when necessary." Her emphasis on the last two words caused him to scoff. If he wanted to, he would kiss her forehead, that and every part of her body, soon enough. Only if he wanted to; and he knew he wanted to. If he was going to get an answer to the questions raging in his head, he was going to have to touch her. The urge to hold her was strange to him. Knowing how much he hated physical contact, Lancelot wondered what it was about her that caused him to want to hold her. Maybe it was the fact that Ziko had warmed up to her. WARMED UP. Ziko had not only warmed up to her, he had acknowledged her as his mate. That wasn't possible. She was a human fe
The wedding party started in full swing three hours after the exchange of vows. And those three hours were the longest Roxanne had ever experienced. She had clung to Emily every second, afraid that if she let go of her, Rayla would be back again to spite her - even though she knew Rayla and Jonah has returned to wherever it was they planned to get ready for the wedding party. Roxanne could not afford to face Rayla again. Earlier on, Lancelot had rescued her. She could not count on him to do so again after the wedding... Or during the wedding party. That was, of course, before he made it known to she and Emily that he would be attending. Roxanne could still see the shock on her own face. She remembered pulling him away from where she stood with Emily, to a corner. She needed to speak to him privately. "What do you think you're doing? I needed you to escort me to the wedding, and that's over." "Is it?" He had said. His perfectly carved brow arched as he looked around the venue. ".
The rest of the party went by in a blur. Roxanne sat there as they talked and laughed over her head. She continued to boil with rage. How could they do this to her? She knew Rayla would spare no expense to see her down, but she had not expected her family to side with her. She had not expected him, Jonah, to humiliate her in such a manner. When everyone ate and drank, danced and sang, she managed short smiles here and there and a few glasses of Chapman, with the few slices of cake Lancelot silently forced into her mouth. She appreciated his show of romance. At least, with the way Jonah's eyes darkened on them, she could tell he was jealous. She couldn't wait for the night to be over. "And now, for the grand event of the night! Ladies and gentlemen, sit back, relax, aww and ouuu..."The audience erupted into laugher, interrupting Jonah's best man. A man Roxanne knew as his roommate during Jonah's college days. "...at the beautiful bride and her loving groom as they give us their
Alas! It was over, all of it. She catwalked back to the head table, even as the smile she forced at her sister and Jonah disappeared from her face. She needed two things; lots of drinks, and a taxi to get the hell out of here. She walked steadily, her head held high, chin and shoulders up. She would never look down again, ever. She arrived at the head table, picked a bottle of champagne and excused herself. She was going to find a corner and drink herself to stupor. She walked towards the exit of the room and found a stool there. With a weak smile, she fell on it, still clutching the champagne bottle in her hands. Luckily, it had already been open, but was more full than empty. She pressed the lid to her lips and took her first gulp. Fuck all of them, she thought. She would make lemonades out of the bitter lemons they served her today, she would make sure of it. Halfway into the bottle and ten curse words later, she caught sight of a familiar male figure heading towards her.
'Fuck it' He hissed. With one grip, he pulled her to himself and crashed his lips on hers. If he had thought he felt fire burn through him the first time her hands brushed against his, then this right now was hell itself. His lips were tangled with hers. He kissed, sucked on her lower lip, bit it occasionally. Everytime Roxanne moaned against his lips, Lancelot felt a new wave of madness sprout up from his belly. He had kissed women, a whole lot of them. But none had ever consumed him like she did, no woman's lips had ever left him aching for more, praying for more. Their hands were on each other. Roxanne's polished fingers dug into his blonde hair, making a mess of the gelled strands. He lowered himself, his kisses travelled from her lips, down to her left ear. He lingered there, kissed, licked and sucked the lobe of her ear softly. Roxanne moaned, with every stroke his fingers drew across her spine, every kiss he planted on her neck, she felt her panties dampen. She ached for
The last thing he remembered was closing his eyes admist the darkness, the calm waves of sleep washing over him as he took deep breaths in and out. When he opened his eyes, there was nothing around him, besides darkness and a vast body of water. Lancelot froze with cold and fear. The darkness terrified him, the body of water he found himself sink in frightened him to death. He began to struggle, flapping his hands and legs to make it to the surface of the water. Suddenly, he felt someone touch his feet. Lancelot looked behind him. He saw his face, Bran. Bran had a reassuring smile on his face. A smile that seemed to say "everything would be okay."For a moment, there was hope. His brother would save him now. Nothing of that sort happened. Lancelot continued to feel himself sink deeper and deeper into the water. He looked beneath him again, Bran was nowhere to be found. Why? Where did he go? Fear fell upon him with brute force again. Lancelot had to reach the surface, there w
He was now awake. Still, he continued to toss and turn from one end of the bed to another, fighting to get his sleep back. From the beam of the sun rays that escaped through the window and hit his face, Lancelot could tell that it was already day break. Yet, it felt to him as though he had just only slept. His mind drifted off to the events of the previous night. He thought of it all; getting ready for the strange woman's sister's wedding party. He saw himself sit next to the her, he saw himself get swept off his mind and his feet by her skilled and free spirited craftsmanship with the piano, he saw himself rush to her, seize a bottle in her hands and put her in his car. When he recalled himself being tangled in the sheets with her and Ziko marking her, his eyelids flew open immediately. What had he done?! His gaze greeted the chandelier hanging on the roof above him. If he hadn't been so tense, he would have taken time to appreciate it's beauty, but it wasn't time to do so now.