“I never say to him, ‘Let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them;’ I say, ‘Let them alone, because I should hate them to be wronged:’” — Catherine Earnshaw.
The four of us had spent the afternoon touring with our cars after we have had breakfast, and then we sought out a restaurant where we had our lunch. The dusk had fallen over, and the remnant rays of sunlight leaked across the horizon, painting it with shades of red. It was time to go clubbing. As much as I hated crowds, I couldn’t resist party or pubs. Jeremy ordered us to be dressed at our best, so he ended up shoving me a black suit of his own since I didn’t bring any formal attire.
I didn’t even know why was a suit necessary if we were going to be drinking and eating the night away, but staying on the amiable side of our humble host was a primary concern. Alexander was busy chatting with the boys in the living room, the high and loud laughs easily penetrating through the door while I worked on arranging my tie to suit the best position. I haven’t heard him laugh like that ever since we've known eachother; he almost sounded carefree.
Giving one last look at the mirror, I turned side ways to see if the attire suited me (no pun intended) and it took me by surprise that it did. I wasn’t a fan of formal outfits, as one could easily say. I didn’t feel myself wearing stiff clothes which allowed zero flexibility for my arms and legs, but I was quite surprised with how I looked. The reflection staring back at me appeared to be confident, and handsome. My shoulders filled in the crisp blazer, while the complementing black trousers clung to my legs, giving it the perfect fit. My fingers saw a tube of hair gel sitting on top of the dressing table, and took hold of it.
Generously squeezing some of the content of the tube in my palm, I applied the substance to my hair, slicking it back and letting a small portion of hair strands gently spike upwards. Putting the tube where it was, I exited the room in order to join the others who were seated on the couches, all dressed up, facing eachother and chatting away. The heads twisted in my direction as I entered, one of which forced himself to look away with blushed cheeks, while the other was blatantly staring. Grey eyes ran up and down the full length of my body, stopping at my lips, narrowing them to slits, unspoken lust taking over them.
He had chosen a navy blue suit for himself, which looked too good on him to be true. The crisp suit perfectly hugged his torso, which gave away the fact that the body beneath the clothing materials, was a hell of a sexy one. I hadn't forgotten that I had been endlessly running my hands over every part of it, and knew the road map with a few deft touches. It was ignominy to think that I found him to be so irresistibility attractive, and could barely control my body's reaction around him.
“It's rude to stare, Xander.” Jeremy interrupted swiftly, giving his brown coat a gentle shake while Adrian let out a low cough, breaking the eye contact between us. Roulette's eyes snapped back at the speaker, after which he stood up not uttering a single word. “We’re getting late, lads. Before we depart, I'd like to inform you that the car arrangements would be the same as they were when we entered town. Harris rides with me”, He announced, his gaze fixated on me, “while Adrian goes with Cole and Jeremy goes with his own car.” With one last lingering look at me, he turned to his heels, fingers curling on the doorknob.
“Anyone has any problems?” He asked in an overly dominating voice, not bothering to turn back to face the team, whose members exchanged glances with each other. Wesley tensed beside me once more, his jaw pressed into a hard line. When no refute or rebuttal came, he was out of the main door. Without sparing any glance to the others, I stepped in the blue mustang that had pulled up before me. Slamming the car door shut, I placed myself on the seat beside the driver’s, and his foot pressed on the accelerator, making the vehicle take off from it's resting spot.
Having him that close to me, did a lot of things which I would never be able to explain. Adrenaline flowed in massive amounts through the veins, muddling all sources of voices of reason in my brain. I watched him grip the steering wheel harder, the muscles of his shoulders flexing and straining against the suit.
“What are we actually doing?”
“You're sitting in my car while I'm driving.”