18

ROSIANNA

I knocked, but the door was open, so without thinking, I walked into his bedroom. Suddenly, I wished to God that I didn't.

Santos was sprawled out on the bed wearing only a pair of black shorts, revealing his wide bare chest. He was watching a movie that had a kissing scene going on. A very French kiss.

“Oh, who do we have here?” he drawled lazily, looking so relaxed with his hands supporting his head like a pillow.

Really looking at him, I got the feeling that he wasn't as relaxed as his poise suggested. In fact, a snake curled up waiting to strike came to mine. I eyed him warily, walking into the room and closing the door behind me.

“I wanted to ask something of you,” I began.

He released his hands and sat up. “Alright, Rosy-baby. Ask and it shall be given on to you,” he quoted seductively.

I bit my lips to keep from telling him that he had a one track mind. Instead, I swallowed tightly. “I need some clothes from you. Even if it's just your shirt.”

“Ahh...clothes.” He nod