"You don't get to leave this time, Angel. I need to hold you in my arms a while longer."

The longing in his words almost made me whimper. I was feeling the same way. We've lost so much time. Time we could have spent together, getting to know each other. Time spent losing myself with him.

"Can we leave this place?" His eyes widened at first at my blunt request, but soon after a soft smile replaced the surprised expression, and he pulled me closer to him.

"Thought you'd never ask!"

Before I knew it, he was carrying me to his car like a bride; I wasn't sure if I longed for the warmth of his arms around me or was in need of some air, but didn't contemplate further as I was placed in his car. The cool leather against my exposed skin created goosebumps, and I rolled my eyes at my own reaction; as if my intoxicated body needed more reasons to shiver.

Trying to distract myself, I tried pulling the damn seatbelt around me, but it got stuck. Sighing, I gave it another try, but my still drunk body kept pulling too harshly. It just wouldn't cooperate. I felt like such an idiot and I hated making a fool out of myself in front of him, which was obvious by the despicable pout on my face.

His chuckle made my already blushing cheeks burn, as he halted my movements with his hand. "Let me," he said, and the words brushed against my cheek. "No need to fight with the seatbelt, Angel." His smirking face was now closer, making me gulp at our current predicament. I took my time to look at the features of his face, missing the green of his eyes before they were looking back at me.

"So beautiful."

The 'click' of my now successfully buckled seatbelt brought me out of my trance, making me realize, I was the one that uttered those two words, right to his face. I knew I was a blushing mess. It was clear as day; he was enjoying this whole situation, if that playful smirk was any indication. He went and done it, when he bit his own lip, teasing me further, and I tried averting my eyes away from his burning gaze, but I couldn't. I was entranced and I didn't want to waste a second not gazing at him.

Once again, his teasing chuckle broke my trance and I watched him taking off his jacket, before placing it around my shoulders. His action was followed by the revving noise of his car, as he was soon driving away from my apartment.

Wanting to hide my choice of clothing for the night, I pulled his jacket closer to me, drowning myself in his warm scent emanating from it; aftershave, coffee and cigarettes. Always cigarettes. It was funny how I craved the scent of his cologne mixed in the burning, deep smell of the poison, but that was just him.

My actions didn't go unnoticed by Brandon, but in that moment I didn't care. In that moment all that mattered was how small his jacket was making me feel and how I wanted the real him performing the same action in a completely different setting.

"I need to ask... Where's the other sock?"

It was around midnight and lights decorated the busy streets of Chicago. His driving was calm and I found myself admiring the city lights from his side of the car, since I couldn't take my eyes away. As if possible, the lights casted upon his figure made him look stronger, mysterious.

The car ride came to a halt near fast-food restaurants and ice-cream shops, and his eyes found my own. I bit my lip, averting my gaze away from him for a moment, as I tried to gather my thoughts.

There had to be a logical explanation... "It's silly, really. It was a game, but trust me, you don't need to know the details." A logical explanation was not found in my mushy brain.

"Oh, come on, angel. Now I'm intrigued." His words were playful, but his eyes were telling a different story. I had picked his interest and there was no way he was letting this go.

"It was a dare... at dare pong? I stopped playing soon after losing my hoodie. Who knew dare pong was that difficult..." I joked, hoping for a quick change of subject, which seemed near impossible with his heated gaze. Luckily, his chuckle helped dissolve the shyness I was feeling.

"And that explains the Disney top, I presume?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe?" Caught between amusement and frustration, he rubbed his forehead; the teasing smirk never left his face.

"I called at the perfect time, then." He said with a sigh.

"That game was hours ago, but yes. Yes, you did!"

"I can't wait to hear why." Unbuckling his own seatbelt, he turned towards me with a smile; a rather cheeky smile that meant business.

"I'm not sure I should answer without my lawyer." I was enjoying this game.

"He's right in front of you." A game I was probably losing.

"Is that how you do things? How you roast the defense in court?"

"Only when I'm winning." The click of my now unbuckled seatbelt startled me, as he retrieved his hand back on his lap, after freeing me. "Still curious to hear why my timing was so perfect, Angel."

"I... Needed a breather? It was too stuffy in the apartment. And a friend, who was probably too wasted for his own good, was being overwhelming."

"The same friend that was with you today?" Brandon cut to the chase sharper than a razor blade.

"Why, do you know him?" If he was prepared to ask questions, then I would provide him with a few of my own. I wasn't sure, but the frustrated sigh escaping his lips confirmed my suspicions. 'Gotcha.'

"I might have met him. In the past." Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him in frustration, before two lean fingers pinched my chin, turning my face towards him. "Did he get close to you?" His eyes seemed distant, but still, they held a certain fear inside, I couldn't decipher. His question was bothering me, almost like a warning that wasn't directed towards me.

"Jaxon Inkles is a colleague and a friend. I don't know what's the deal, or if anything happened between you two. I know you're not willing to tell me, but he is my ally on the field and we work good together." Before more words could spill out of my mouth, I bit my tongue, staring at him with the same intensity he was.

His next question caught me by surprise. "Did he hurt you?" He seemed frustrated and nervous for a moment, as he furrowed his brows.

"Brandon, he's just a colleague; a friend. Relax. He's fun most times, just had more shots than he could handle, that's all." His eyes were calculating, thinking my answer over and over in his head. "Why? Do you know him?"

With a sigh, he threw his head back on his seat and pinched his nose. He avoided answering the question, but at this point it wasn't surprising. This time, I decided against pushing him away or asking more questions. By now, I knew how he worked. He didn't appreciate getting cornered and unless he was prepared, he wouldn't share his past with me. I needed more time. We needed to start trusting each other first, before the dark and the bitter were put into words.

"Hey..." I took a hold of his hand, interlocking our fingers. "I am actually starving and Stella's piña colladas might have been too strong for my empty stomach." His smile prompted my next words and rather straightforward invitation. "Do you think we could drive through some fast-food restaurant and get some food, before we settle somewhere to talk?"

Rubbing my hand with his calloused thumb, he spoke affirmatively, huskiness replacing the nervousness and frustration in his voice from before. "Of course, Angel." Soothing lips connected with the back of my hand, making a million butterflies erupt in my stomach, before he resumed driving down the road.

"How does a movie under warm blankets and maybe an extra pair of socks sound?"

I would have pinched myself, if I wasn't holding his hand with one hand and a paper-bag filled with burgers with the other, so my last option was to positively nod my head at his proposition. He was back to being his playful, teasing self, and I was glad the mood wasn't soured by unspoken words and unresolved questions.

Between light conversation and laughter from the both of us, I soon realized he was parking his car in the driveway of a house – his house – away from the overpopulated center of Chicago. I tried not to overthink, but still, coming face to face with his home created a warm feeling inside of me. In his own way, he was letting me.

Brushing strands of hair behind my ear, he looked at me with his expressive eyes. Words weren't exchanged between us, but it felt like he was asking if I was sure; if I could trust him. And I did, I did trust him. Nodding to the unspoken question, he smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek that spread warmth to my skin instantly, before he turned to open his car's door for himself and then a few seconds later for me.

"I see the lawyer has a rather classical taste." I teased once we made our way inside his house. It shouldn't come as a surprise that everything was so tidy and in place, but this was only the 'lawyer'-side of him. This man had boxing as a hobby, creating a different image in my mind; a more rugged and dangerous image.

He was hiding that side so well...

From the outside it looked really homey, big enough to fit a family, but not uncomfortably huge. White, with a garden I wished to explore one day; the thought brought a smile to my face. Walking straight to the living room, I took out the contents of the papered bag and placed them neatly on the mahogany coffee table, while Brandon walked upstairs to find his stored blankets, while I looked around for a bit.

Once alone in the living room, I took the time to look at the beautiful space around me. Golden framed pictures decorated the grand-canal-colored walls on one side of the room. My feet were silent on the wooden floor, as I neared a picture of him receiving his Honor's Degree from Law school. Next to that was a picture with a teenaged Brandon, his parents and two younger female versions of him. They all looked so happy. That photo looked old, the corners were worn out, but it was protected in the glass frame.

Weird, I thought to myself. I glanced around, but saw no more pictures of his father and sisters, just his and his mother's. Where were they?

Without thinking, I touched the handsome face on the picture, biting my lip at those bright green eyes. I stayed there for a while, only to feel his breath at the back of my neck, his hand holding my hip. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of him close to me, before I opened them again to stare at the picture in front of me.

"When was this?" My voice was above a whisper, afraid not to scare him away from the question.

"Eleven years ago. I was fifteen back then. My sister Mia..." he paused, pointing to the youngest girl with a big grin and pigtails, "...was nine. And Ariana was twelve. It's one of the few pictures we have together before–" A sigh was heard from behind me, confirming what I knew about him; his past was a dark place for him, and he didn't enjoy visiting the awful memories. "Before we lost my father." His voice was pained, and I swallowed the lump I didn't know I had in my throat.

I reached for his hand still on my hip and held it in my cold, smaller one. I wanted him to know, feel, I was there for him. Sensing I was still a bit cold, he wrapped me in the blanket he was holding, before reaching for my hand again, making me smile.

"What about this one?" I asked again, referring to his graduation.

"Three years ago."

I did the math in my head. "You finished your PhD in law at twenty-three? Who are you, a genius or something?" He chuckled at my surprise.

"You're one to talk, being almost a surgeon at twenty-four, but, let's just say I worked double as hard to make up for lost time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I turned around and my breath hitched; he was closer than I thought. He didn't say anything, and I knew he wouldn't explain further, for now. With that 'Brandon King' trademark smirk, he handed me a pair of clean blue socks, before pulling me towards the sofa. We ungracefully plopped on the velvet grey material of the furniture and covered ourselves with the same blanket I was holding. It wasn't big enough for both of us, so I just scooted closer to him; as close as my blushing cheeks could handle.

Out the corner of my eye, I could see his devilish smirk, making me feel fuzzy. "Your food is getting cold," I felt him whisper near my ear and pushed him away, trying to scatter the dirty thoughts away with him. "You're blushing."

Tired of being the only one frustrated at our game of tug, I leaned as close as I could handle, to return the favor. "So are you." My lips brushed his earlobe, teasing him, when he turned towards me. Feeling a surge of confidence through my veins I leaned in, close enough to brush my nose against his, before moving away to pick up my food.

I knew he was staring, but if we continued the same dance for a little longer, I would be the one to lose. And I hated losing. Fortunately, I didn't mind losing to Brandon if it meant he was kissing, tasting my lips, with an intensity that left me breathless. It happened faster than deemed necessary and my brain didn't realize what was happening 'til he was pulling away; still, the tingles left on my lips meant this moment happened. 'It was real. He kissed me', I thought to myself, when he rested his forehead on mine, as he spoke in a husky tone.

"Rum. Your friend used too much rum, in her cocktails." I couldn't take my eyes off his lips. His soft, warm lips, that were connected to mine a few moments ago.

"Right..."

In a startled daze, I retrieved my forgotten burger from the table, and settled down. I tried to calm my fast-beating heart, my fast-thinking brain, my too fast everything. It must have been the same for him, because he soon after reached for his food and the controller under the coffee table in a daze; without uttering another word.

In my surprise, he deemed the lighting in the room with the object he was holding before reaching for a second controller to turn on the TV in front of us. I could call him out on trying to show off, but the current dimness of the room made me nervous again. I wished my brain reacted fast enough to kiss him back, instead of freezing up in the moment. All this simply reminded me that this was his arena, and he was much more experienced in these types of games than I ever hoped to be.

"So, do you live all by yourself?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood we created, as we settled on an action film. With him next to me, I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the film, but I didn't mind; I wanted to get to know more about him.

"Ever since I finished high school. My mom and Mia moved to New York a few years back. Ariana is... currently in Europe." He chewed on his cheeseburger before taking a sip from his milkshake. "I had to redecorate, of course, and make the place my own. I love my parents, but their taste... Let's just say this is more me."

I looked around at the place, smiling. It was minimalistic, but then again, he seemed like a guy to be pleased with a few things. I was sure he had money, but this humbling side of him was pleasant.

"So, what does Mia do in New York? She should be, what, nineteen? Twenty?" Having the feeling that his sister, Ariana, was a touchy subject, I started with Mia; the playful girl on the picture with pigtails and a wide smile.

"She'll be twenty-one at the end of summer. She's currently a pre-med student and has dreams of becoming a surgeon, as a matter of fact. She's enrolling at the University of Chicago for her new semester, so maybe you'll get to meet her soon."

"Who knows, maybe she'll be my intern when I'm done with residency." I chuckled, as I thought of future Dr. King assisting me or Stella in an operating room. "I promise not to give her hell when she messes up." I was looking into the playful eyes that kept taking my breath away, before I couldn't hold his stare anymore and turned towards the film that was playing in the background.

"Should I be worried about your brother?" His words took me off guard and I almost choked on a fry.

"I don't know," my eyes were back at his. "Should you? Are you a threat to his sister?"

"Never!" The conviction in his voice was exhilarating, making me feel confident in whatever these feelings were. His breath fanned my cheek and I soon felt the goosebumps rise at the nape of my neck and arms.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Markus is like a giant soft teddy bear... Stella on the other hand... Let's just say, if something were to happen to me she would cut you open. With a scalpel. And no anesthesia. " I chuckled when his face changed colors, while he gulped with some difficulty.

"Noted."

Conversation between us was becoming easier the more we shared about each other. We talked about our lives here in Chicago, while devouring our food, our jobs and what we wanted to achieve in the future. His love for defending the innocent and his passion for boxing, an adrenaline rush that I wasn't yet prepared to understand or come to terms with. Truth be told, I was afraid of seeing him get hurt, a fact he could already decipher from the glum look on my face. The conversation was somehow brought back to how I, Stella and Markus first came here, and I teased him about his reaction every time he heard my brother's name.

"You were so jealous today." I stated, pushing him with my shoulder cheekily.

"I didn't do anything." My eyes widened at the meaning behind his words.

"Did you want to?" I pushed back, but he remained silent. Pointing a potato fry accusingly towards him, I asked again. "What is it? Did you want to remove his hands from around me and replace them with yours? Is that it?" I was sitting on my legs, facing him, the movie long forgotten by the both of us.

Instead of saying anything, he just took the fry from my hand with his mouth, his lips grazing my skin lightly. I blushed instantly, turning away from him. I was sobered up, but I kept pushing my luck around him.

"There's the blush I missed." He pinched my chin and turned me towards him.

I was biting my lip, trying to stop the blush from further tinting my skin, but it was of no use. I already lost the battle.

"Don't–" He took a deep breath. "Don't do that, Angel, I've told you before." He said, his eyes darkening. His thumb moved to my lips, freeing my bottom lip from my teeth.

"Why not?" I asked, my voice something between a moan and a whisper.

"I'm a very patient man, Erika. But it seems like all I wanna do with you is just lose control. Give in." His husky voice was affecting me more than I was ready to admit.

"But... I want you to lose control..." I was sure of that; ready, even, to live in the moment and not in my head.

"What are you doing to me..." He said with a sigh.

I didn't have time to answer, before he claimed my lips in a searing kiss. A kiss filled with passion, promises. I kissed him back, this time, with equal passion and a hint of something else. Bringing my hands around his neck I pulled him closer and he did the same by pulling my body over his lap, as I effectively straddled his strong thighs.