Is it just me or does hatred form way too quick for anyone's liking? Is the wrong that the sight of another guy's eyes on my girlfriend make my blood boil? I wouldn't say I hated him but I surely did hate the fact that he was so obviously attracted to her.

She had a job, photographing some guy's senior pics or whatever the fuck it was and she was wearing those jeans that drove me absolutely insane. She was so fucking perfect as she crouched into a comfortable position, adjusting the lights for another shot and I caught his eyes on her ass.

His eyes, his eyes that were nearly bulging out of his skull, were centered on the way my girlfriend's jeans hugged her curves and put emphasis on the just how big her ass was. She didn't even notice as he licked his lips, biting at them when she'd turned around to make eye contact with her only for his eyes to drift to her pink, plump lips.

And then to her chest covered in a tight cropped white shirt. You could still see the outline of her lace bra through it, her nipples showing through the fabric and when she'd put it on, I'd felt weak in my fucking knees but now that another guy had noticed... that feeling wasn't exactly pleasant. I never dictated what she wore, I did not have that right because her body was hers but at that moment, I wished I'd have voiced my concern sooner.

His voice was teasingly flirting at her, beckoning her closer when she'd moved to fix his hair in that perfectionist way of hers. I knew she didn't mean to get that close to him, her chest nearly in his face, she was just trying to get his hair right so she wouldn't have to do too much work with photoshop later on.

He wasn't exactly ugly though, he wasn't someone I couldn't see her with. That was my problem, that and the fact that his hands were grazing her waist when she'd almost fallen trying to move out of shot. His fingertips were just above her ass and I hated that she was smiling thankfully at him even though he was still all up on her.

And when she'd pulled out of his grasp to go back to her earlier position, I caught him fixing himself in his pants. That shit was what got to me. He had to know she was mine, I mean, it was hard not to notice the way my hands stayed glued to her when she was setting up her shoot. He was right fucking there when she'd called me baby and kissed me before pointing to the seat I was now sitting in.

I worked so hard to get her to be mine and I wasn't going to let some preppy blue-eyed good-looking guy steal her away.

Still, I sat silent, knowing that she'd be upset for me ruining her shoot over my own petty insecurities. It had happened before, Emerson being attracting and working with other guys, of course it had. Of course other guys saw how lucky I was and I often tried to welcome that but that was easier then. Those guys never blatantly gawked and flirted with my girlfriend especially not when I was in the room.

It was always subtly done in glances and small comments about her being a great photographer and not to mention beautiful. They never touched her or tried anything that would be deemed too forward on another man's girl, they simply admired and then set free and that was okay because I understood that as a human being, sometimes we just had to bless our eyes with someone perfect and then move on. I was okay with a man staring at her as long as they didn't act on it.

But that had changed by the end of the shoot. I'd kept my composure, didn't let the guy bother me too much and was in the middle of packing Emerson's things for her. She wanted to go over the pictures she'd taken with her crew, wanted to talk more about lighting choices and all things important to her. And I patiently waited for her to come back so we could go home and I could hold her in my arms with reassurance that she wouldn't leave me for another guy.

Then Preppy just had to do the one thing that made me lose my cool, he fucking asked her out.

His smirk was evident, eyes set slyly on her lips, and he so casually let the words fall from his own.

She, in turn, shook her head and informed him of our dating as if he hadn't already known. "I'm sorry, Kent, I have a boyfriend." Her voice was smooth, lips stretched into an apologetic smile and I would've felt bad for the guy if he'd let it go right there with an apology of his own.

But still, he was persistent, "baby, you're too damn sexy to be held down."

That was when I snapped, her camera-bag draped across my body and I made my way briskly to her, grasping her hand in mine and setting my own smirk at the rich-kid. I'd won, she was mine and that was the end of it.

But I couldn't let it go when we were walking away, making our way out of the clearing he'd requested. Sensing his eyes lingering on her ass, I pulled her towards me with our interlocked hands and grabbed her chin with my other. Tilting her up towards me, I placed my lips on hers, kissing her softly. Letting go of her hand, I gripped her waist, pulling her closer towards me in the middle of the fucking grass and licked gently at her bottom lip, deepening our kiss. My eyes stayed locked on Kent behind her and the challenging look he'd given me was enough for me to pull her all the more closer and give him the perfect view of me squeezing at her ass in those high-waisted denim jeans.

He'd rolled his eyes at me, shoving past the man beside him to grab at his things and leave the opposite way.

And I smirked into the kiss pulling away when she hit my chest with her balled fist.

"Stop, we're in public." Her voice was slightly annoyed but I caught the small smile in her brown eyes and threaded my fingers back through hers. "Don't think I didn't notice you glaring at him, no need to get jealous, yeah?"

Yeah, I wasn't ever letting her go.