#to me it sounds exactly like maroon 5's 'sugar' so

[eccentricallygothic]

Pairing: Boyfriend!Simon Riley | Girlfriend!You.

Description: Simon loves to take you on picnics and hikes in the natural wilderness when he's home. 

Warning(s): Fluff, Simon is his huge self, lovey dovey lisping, age gap, minor teeny tiny allusion to smut, ddlg overtones because it's literally Simon. 

Inspo: Here. 

Note: I started this as a fluffy drabble a couple days ago but only completed it today because I need the comfort. Idk what this is exactly, but I think it made me feel better, a little.

. . .

“Shimonnnn~” you uncurl yourself from where you sit beside the clear water, rising to your feet and switching the song on the portable Bluetooth speaker to one of your choice. The melody of Sugar by Maroon 5 rings through the speaker and you move your hips to the beat. You twirl and spin, raising your arms in the air as you sway yourself closer to the mountain of muscle hard quietly working away at the chopping board, content. 

I am hurtin', baby, I am broken down— 

“I need your lovin', lovin', I need it now~” you sing along to the song, the smell of nature and the sound of the running water only adding to the comforting ambiance of the little picnic spot your boyfriend chose for the two of you before setting up camp. “When I am without you, I'm something weak— ow” you let yourself go on his broad and muscular back with not much grace but he doesn't budge although your boobs hurt from how hard his body is. 

“Shimonnn~” his cap shields his eyes from the gentle sun as he chops away at the meat he intends to mix with the vegetable he has cut up. “Mmm” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle your face in his neck. He still doesn't respond to your cooing, comfortable with how you hang from him like a snuggly little monkey. Simon isn't a man of many words anyways. “Need yoooou~” the two of you always fuss about this on a picnic. He insists that the two of you should try out new things and utilize the little time you have to enjoy the wild. But you are young and hormonal, your body doesn't know restraint or discipline like he does. 

It's his fault for being so tempting anyways. 

“Later” you whine even though he doesn't refuse. Simon never refuses. Despite all his there's a time and place for everything talk. “Let me cook dinner first” the evening is getting cooler by the minute and the sun grows amber. 

You growl like the spoilt brat he's raised you to be and kick your feet while still holding him tight, the warmth of his back keeping your body afloat any worry or anxiety about the world outside the microcosm of love that is this place. 

Simon continues to work away as he picks up a bowl, not least bit bothered about your little tantrum. “Say,” he begins to collect the contents laid out on the chopping board into the bowl. “Doesn't that tree look optimal for a nice little timeout?” You whine loudly and quickly hide in his body as he effortly stands up, making you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Nuuuuu!” You make no move to get off and he doesn't mind. “It doesn't!” 

“Oh, it doesn't, does it?” Simon is distracted as he prepares the pan to be loaded over the fire he built. You shake your head and whine out your denial. “Then I guess we have our reason to behave ourselves right there, don't we?” You whimper and nod timidly before shutting up.

“Now...” When Simon is done and the food is on its way he puts you down on a boulder to pull his shirt off with one hand while he catches his cap with the other. “Who wants to go swimming?”

He loves the life that flashes bright in your eyes as you squeal and clap excitedly, kicking your feet and pushing your shoes off.

“Me! Me! Me!” Simon replaces his cap back on his head to hide the smile that makes its way on his face as he puts his clothes aside to attend to yours.

. . .

[btsbs]

.

[bribe-the-door]

If every song from hs2 was a color, what would they be?

[Track 1] Golden

so.... this is “pretty much on the nose” for what color it should be but I see it as sunset golden... except it’s the shadows of the sunset. you know how you try to take pictures on the beach at sunset and it’s all silhouettes? exactly. it’s bright and warm and golden but ALSO dark and an outline of what you’re trying to capture. your [person] is outlined in golden hues and a slight baby pink or bright orange if the sun hits the water just right on the beach... but you can’t see the faces of those in the picture.

[Track 2] Watermelon Sugar

care-free and bright pink. you’re on a beach [again.... sorry] and you’re sleepy in the sun. you have a pink drink in hand [a strawberry daiquiri maybe?] and are dulling the sunlight by way of huge sunglasses because the ocean in front of you is insanely bright blue like the ‘electric blue’ Crayola marker. it’s a song that feels drunk and dizzy and tastes sweet even on the darkest and moody of days. fight me on this. this is my happy song. it is laced with vodka or tequila and only to be thought of as a sunset song. NEXT PLEASE

[Track 3] Adore You

this one is all earth  tones... a mossy green, a deep inland lake blue, some rich soil brown, all things to make up a spring-time island. there are slivers of grey and deep heather gray and an occasional metallic gold of sea life below the waters, but also hues of deep red-brown and turquoise (easily confused with black or gray under the ripples of water). it’s grainy like a vintage-film reel and smells of old books.

[Track 4] Lights Up

lights up? it’s dark, y’all. all of the colors are muted and murky, kind of like you’re drunk and trying to make out what is in front of you. it’s a deep green again, a very deep yellow or beige, despite the boldness of the sounds heard. it’s as if you’re trying to fight your way out of murky lake water and as the harmonies grow to be stronger, you’re reaching closer to the top [of the lake/pond/ocean/water]. you can finally take a deep breath of clear air once you come to the top... and it’s a clear pale blue. you made it, babe.

[Track 5] Cherry

this song screams early fall morning to me. it’s foggy, there is a hue over a big field of grey and a slight pink, but it’s too early to tell. soft colors; lilac, an olive green, so many hues of pink and white and the slightest tinge of ice blue. kind of like the most stereotypical farm/field-based Nicholas Sparks movie you can think of, but made it slow-motion and sad and also probably post-rainstorm. there is most definitely a cherry blossom tree in the background and also a small white farmhouse, too.

[Track 6] Falling

periwinkle. violet. a tiny bit of a mustard yellow. the cool hues outweigh the bright character of the yellow without fail but the yellow tries to peak out every so often, clearly outweighed by the darkness of blues and purples. it feels like the morning dew and sticks to you like the humidity of a late summer night before a storm rolls in. you feel clouded by the weight of the world but see an ounce of hope in the peaks of the harmonies, that goddamn yellow peeking though again.

[Track 7] To Be So Lonely

baby blue ONLY for the “little boy” mention. i will not take notes on this. also... this song screams groovy and crunchy colors like burnt orange and a vivid gold color, and also a nice cheery blue. kind of the sky blue you see in cartoons but also a navy blue, too. this isn’t color related but the diversity in instrumentals here is incredible, this song feels like a goddam rainbow, but muted. like a jewel-toned rainbow with some glitter. only because of the use of the phrase “an arrogant son of a bitch”. case closed.

[Track 8] She

smokey and deep red embers of a flame, somehow kept alive by a force unknown. there is a deep purple vibe to this song, too, almost confused by a black or the complete absence of color in the dark of night. there isn’t a single bright thing of this song, save for maybe a spark or fleeting ember from the fire in a blazing orange or yellow. maybe even a white [if things are hot enough]. this song is pink in nature but red in execution, only shown in the light with a deep hue of maroon and gold.

[Track 9] Sunflower Vol. 6

YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW! is this even an arguable POINT! it is yellow and orange and bright pink and all things HAPPY because sunflowers are warm and remind me of summer when things are okay and fine and LOVELY. also there is definitely a hint of bright green and blue and a little bit of rainbow sparkle.... but only a little. kind of like only around 1:28-:1:35... you know? it’s sparkly. get out of here if you say it’s not. the “boop boops” are also translucent like bubbles and that’s a FACT

[Track 10] Canyon Moon

transition of afternoon sun to a sunset... like dusk, but a color. oranges and yellows and the preparation that goes into a bonfire. also the golden perfection of a perfectly toasted marshmallow? crisp like the evening breeze... teal and purple with darkness but kept warm by the flames of the lasting embers of the flames in front of you.

[Track 11] Treat People With Kindness (THIS IS MY FAV)

it’s rainbow. don’t even try to fight me on this. this song can only be described as confetti cannons going off at all times. i wish i had more to say but i had too much fun jamming out to this song!!!!! it’s absolute madness!!!! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! IT’S SO BRIGHT AND NEON AND HAPPY AND I LOVE IT!!!!!!

[Track 12] Fine Line

this one starts as a very, very dark green. it stays that hue for a while but slowly transitions into a brighter blue-green as the song progresses. little glimpses into the future of the melody show itself with golden and pink rays but they’re drowned out by the green-blue until the peak of the song when things transition into “we’ll be alright” over and over and over. it’s like a sunrise after fighting your way through the foliage of a dark night and not sure where you’ll end up. but you make it though it all and finally find the sun... golden and shadowy like this album started as. the change between dark and like are so obvious during this song.

[free-pool-trash]

Apology - Rin Matsuoka x Reader

Hi, I wrote a thing, it’s probably shit but I did it. Nobody asked for this but I wanted to write something, if you enjoy this please let me know :)

description: Your old best friend Rin Matsuoka returns from Australia but when you and the Iwatobi gang bump into him you realize he’s not the boy you used to know

warnings: Language, angst sorta, fluff

word count: 1233

Your life had been fairly boring since high school had started, Iwatobi high couldn't exactly satisfy the need to fulfill your hobby.

What hobby, you may be asking? The one sport you could tolerate, well, more than tolerate. Swimming. Something about gliding through the water sent adrenaline rushing through your veins. As much as you hated stealing your friend Haru's line, it made you feel... free.

More so to the point, Iwatobi high school didn't have a functional pool, yourself and fellow swimmer Makoto Tachibana had the idea to set up a swim club in the school back when you were both first years, only for Haru to shut the idea down.

This meant swimming was limited to only in the ocean during the warm summer months since the closure of you and the guys' original swim club.

Although you couldn't swim very often, you were lucky enough to be able to stick with your friends through out the years... most of them anyway.

Nagisa had told you all that the swim club you all met at was going to be torn down, it broke your heart really, a lot of your favorite memories were made there, it's where you met all your best friends Haru, Makoto, Nagisa and who could forget Rin?

You were proud of the shark toothed boy for chasing his dreams, you only wished he wouldn't have broken off contact with you in the process.

For old times sake you, Mako, Haru and Nagisa decided you'd go and bid your farewells to the old building later that night. It took some convincing to get Haru to agree to come along but eventually he said yes.

~ THAT NIGHT ~

The club was completely run down, the paint was running creepily down the walls really adding to the abandoned look.

Nagisa had brought 'purifying salt' to ward off evil spirits, which turned out to be sugar. The inside of the club wasn't nearly as run down as the outside although it still held it's creepy aura, as you were looking around you spotted the picture you had taken of the boys after they won the relay all those years ago.

"Takes you back, huh?" Nagisa spoke from beside you staring at the picture fondly, you smiled slightly "Yeah, you were all so little back then... It's so strange looking at you now, don't you think?" Makoto chuckled from behind you placing his hand on your shoulder "We could say the same about you (Y/n)." Your laughter at his reply ceased as footsteps began to sound from down the hall.

A tall figure was making it's way down the corridor towards you all "Yo" your eyes widened as the unknown male took off his cap "Rin?!" Yourself, Makoto and Nagisa shouted in surprise.

"Wow Haru, you still hanging out with those losers? And whatever it is you'd call that... pretty pathetic." He directed the last part at you, every ones jaw dropped, this wasn't the Rin you used to know.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, asshole?" You questioned ready to put him 6 feet under the ground, he only scoffed and turned back to Haru demanding that he race him. The two walked ahead leaving Makoto and Nagisa staring worriedly at your shaking form.

They knew you better than anyone, you were putting on a strong suit so Rin wouldn't see that his words had cut you, but they had and the boys knew that. "(Y/n)..." Makoto started gently, you only shook your head "This was a bad idea, I-I'm gonna go home" The two boys watched as you left with your head hung down low, you hoped they didn't see the tears spilling down your cheeks, but they did.

Making their way into the pool area they glared daggers into the back of Rin's head as Haru gave them a confused look before speaking up "Where's (Y/n)?" This seemed to peek Rin's interest as he looked expectantly at Makoto who was still glaring at him "She's gone home." A cocky smirk found it's way on to Rin's face "What? She couldn't handle a little insult?" Makoto's lips set into a tight frown "She can, just not from someone shes missed for years...not from you." Something inside of Rin hurt when Makoto said that but he played it off.

"Whatever, you guys came here to dig this up right?" He held up their relay trophy "Well you can have it because I won't be needing it." The trophy fell from his hand to the floor as he made his dramatic turn away.

~ (Y/N)'S POV ~

'I'm such an idiot-no-he's such an idiot, coming back here and insulting the people he cares about-used to care about. Maybe I should have just punched his pretty face then and there, ugh who are you trying to kid (Y/n) you couldn't hurt a fly, that's exactly why you fled the club crying.'

As you walked slowly the tears started to dry up, the initial shock of the whole ordeal wearing off, all you could do was question yourself, asking what you could've done so wrong to deserve being treated so badly by your past best friend.

Pulling out your phone and ear phones you decided on listening to some music to hopefully drown out the voices in your head. The night grew cold as you walked to the closest bus stop that happened to be all the way across town, you wrapped your arms around yourself to somewhat keep yourself warm as you slightly picked up your pace hearing footsteps approaching you despite the music playing in your ears, you kept walking until a voice called your name.

Stopping in your tracks you turned around only to be met with someone you didn't want to see, sighing you plucked out your ear phones and met his gaze, he walked until he was right in front of you, noting the dried tears and red rimed eyes you sported on your face his red gaze softened.

"Hey..." Was all the maroon haired boy could get out as he looked at you, how long had it been since he'd last looked at you like that you wondered, 4? 5 years?

"...Hi" He'd grown that much was certain. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said to back there, I didn't think you'd be in the old club with the guys. I was hoping we'd meet again under different circumstances." He explained earning a dry chuckle from you "Did the guys get an apology?"

"I wouldn't chase the guys down 4 streets to check if they were ok, so no, only you're getting an apology." He smiled softly only for it to fade at the confused look on your face "Why?" another sigh escaped the teen as he locked eyes with you "Because you aren't the guys (Y/n), because I missed you, because after all this time I still can't stand the thought of you being mad at me...and" His eyes began to water along with yours, to say the least you were happy to see he was still a huge softie, "you're still my best friend."

Smiling you pulled his tall form into you and wrapped your arms around his shoulders hugging him tightly as his arms found their way around your torso squeezing you while he placed his head in the crook of your neck and yours made itself comfortable on his shoulder.

Before he got the chance to pull away you whispered one last thing to him "Apology accepted."

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 1st December 2019

REVIEWING THE CHARTS SPEEDRUN – 1:20 (WR)

Top 10

For the eighth consecutive week, “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I is at #1.

Up a whopping 17 spaces off of the debut last week is “Before You Go” by Lewis Capaldi hits number-two, becoming his fifth top ten hit in the UK.

At number-three, we have Stormzy’s big debut for the final single from his upcoming sophomore album, Heavy is the Head. With the album release, this can likely get to #1, but for now, “Own It” featuring Ed Sheeran and Burna Boy has debuted at number-three. It’s Stormzy’s 19th UK Top 40 hit and eighth placement in the top 10, Sheeran’s 53rd UK Top 40 hit (Jesus Christ – that might actually be an inaccurate figure since I manually counted) and 27th top 10, and Burna Boy’s highest-ever peaking song and both his third UK Top 40 and top 10 hit.

The two new top three entries sadly crush Dua Lipa’s hopes at a #1, as “Don’t Start Now” is down two spaces to number-four. Let’s hope the Christmas period isn’t too rough on this track.

Billie Eilish’s “everything i wanted”, is also down two off of the debut at number-five, fairing a lot better than I expected it to, to be honest.

Lewis Capaldi is two-for-two in the top 10, as “Bruises” is steady at number-six.

Unfortunately, Arizona Zervas is up to number-seven with the clunker that is “ROXANNE”... trust me, I’ll be covering this in about a month, although not to that much of an extent. My year-end worst list seems to be pretty small and uninteresting this year, actually.

“Memories” by Maroon 5 is down three spaces to number-eight. God, that sounded like an AI-written sentence.

At number-nine, we have Ed Sheeran’s pathetic “South of the Border” featuring Camila Cabello and Cardi B continuing to fall down two spaces this week.

Finally, at #10, finishing off the top 10, is “Down Like That” by KSI, Rick Ross, Lil Baby and S-X, becoming what I’m pretty sure is the first UK top 10 hit for all artists here, although I could be wrong about that. Congratulations, I suppose, although the song is far from great.

Climbers

I am my own best source when fact-checking what the BBC site says. I don’t go to the Official Chart Company’s UK Singles Chart, I don’t go to ACharts, I go to last week’s REVIEWING THE CHARTS, especially for situations like this, in which BBC messes it up so badly that I’m confused to how they messed it up in the first place. BBC says that “Pump it Up” by DJ Endor, is down nine to #29. The issue is that it is placed after #20, and #22 continues after it. After looking at my climbers section last week, I found that “Pump it Up” by Endor was already at #29... last week. So, “Pump it Up” by Endor is up eight spaces to #21... and “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles is up seven spaces off of the debut to #28. BBC got that one wrong, too.

Fallers

There are only a couple here. We have the unfortunate continuing fall for the great “Must Be” by J Hus down seven spots only on its third week down to #20, as well as a couple of massive songs that have probably had their on-demand streaming numbers cut. It sounds about time for “Ride It” by Regard featuring Jay Sean and “Circles” by Post Malone to be affected by that arbitrary chart rule and they have, as they’re now down 21 and 26 spaces respectively, at #25 and #35. Oh, and “Paper Cuts” by Dave continues to flop down 10 spaces at #40.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

We have a pretty plentiful number of drop-outs and, uncommon for the UK Top 40, two returning entries. The drop-outs are all reasonable and in order of their last chart position (For now, at least), we have “Buss Down” by Aitch featuring ZieZie getting its streaming cut from #21, Dermot Kennedy’s ballad “Outnumbered” finishing its run at #23, “Jerry Sprunger” by Tory Lanez featuring T-Pain flubbering off of the debut last week from #32 after Chixtape 5 fails to continue its hype beyond the first week, “Post Malone” by Sam Feldt featuring RANI dropping out from #34, “Follow God” by Kanye West embarrassing itself out from #36, “Opp Thot” by Poundz suffering from the amount of new and returning entries from #37 (This one’s the most likely to rebound), “Lover” by Taylor Swift dropping out from #38 despite returning last week and the release of the first dance remix, and finally, as expected from last week, “Take Me Back to London” by Ed Sheeran featuring Stormzy and remixed by Sir Spyro featuring Aitch and Jaykae, is out from #40. Hopefully, I never have to type that mouthful again. Our first returning entry is “Orphans” by Coldplay returning to #27 after dropping out from last week, thanks to the album release. Our second, well...

IT’S CHRISTMAS INNIT

It’s starting! We have a second returning entry this week in the top 40, and it’s “All I Want Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey at #34, which is making a play for #1 in the US. I’ve already reviewed the song last year, and I just love this song even more now, to be honest. That’s the only Christmas song in the top 40 (For now), but I figured I should just mention the other Christmas songs in the top 75. “Fairytale of New Yorks” by the Pogues featuring Kirsty MacColl is back at #71, “Last Christmas” by WHAM! is at #43... and that’s all for now. We’ll definitely have more to fill out the new It’s Christmas Innit section next week.

NEW ARRIVALS

#39 – “Can’t Fight This Feeling” – Bastille featuring the London Contemporary Orchestra

Produced by Mara Carlyle and Hugh Brunt – Peaked at #4 in Scotland

It’s not exactly an unpopular opinion to admit that the original REO Speedwagon version of “Can’t Fight This Feeling” from 1984 is an incredibly well-written pop song, especially for the time, but real talk: I don’t like that version of the song at all. While I can’t deny the anthemic chorus, the song is such a slog at nearly five freaking minutes and it is exhaustingly dull. I was actually quite interested in hearing the full version of the cover, as the John Lewis Christmas advert always has a hit single to go along with it, in fact the next song I’ll be reviewing includes an artist who got their big break from John Lewis... and it’s only three minutes, and better yet, features the London Contemporary Orchestra in their first credited UK Top 40 appearance. I also like Dan Smith’s voice a hell of a lot more than I do Kevin Cronin’s. Notably, for a bit of trivia, this isn’t a John Lewis-exclusive single, as it features on a Waitrose advert as well. Huh. Anyway, is Bastille’s eighth UK Top 40 hit any good? Well, I feel it’s misleading to call it a Bastille song as this is very much Dan Smith crooning over an admittedly pretty gorgeous and busy orchestral rendition of the original Speedwagon single. Smith does sound overwhelmed in the mix by the strings at times, and the dude has a couple weak moments at times, especially during the verses, but he mostly holds his own and I’m always a sucker for some well-placed horns riffing out of nowhere. Even then, I don’t think the song is all that great, and nearly two minutes in, there’s a really abrupt, distorted string riff that clips heavily and it just sounds gross. Do I prefer it to the original REO Speedwagon song? Of course I do – it’s nearly half the length and I’m a fan of both Bastille and well... the Super Mario Galaxy soundtrack, as the tones of this instrumentation do resemble that at points (Which is never a bad thing). Oh, and I love the addition of the twinkly pianos at the end as a nice touch. Otherwise, it’s pretty good, but I don’t see it reaching the heights of the Lily Allen’s cover of “Somewhere Only We Know”, also from the John Lewis advert, that peaked at #1 in 2013. I guess it didn’t warm the cockles of my cockles.

#36 – “Into the Unknown” – Idina Menzel and AURORA – from the Frozen II soundtrack

Produced by Kristen Anderson-Lopez, Robert Lopez and Christophe Beck – Peaked at #55 in the US and #5 in South Korea

I don’t know or care about Frozen II. I am not a film person; I watch about five movies a year, and they typically aren’t boring Disney sequels that pose no interest for someone who has already seen the first film. I don’t think the sequel will ever reach the absolute phenomena that the original Frozen was because that era starting from 2013 is impossible to match, even for the monopoly that is Disney. This is Idina Menzel, or as most people know her, Elsa’s fourth UK Top 40 hit excluding those that she had as part of the Glee cast and AURORA’s second after the indie darling’s brief stint of fame she experienced due to covering the Oasis B-side from 1994 that was attached to a standalone single that peaked at #3 and got them sued by Neil Innes of Monty Python fame. AURORA’s version was featured in a John Lewis advert in 2015 and peaked at #11, and then she became a folktronica-influenced art pop songstress, who is still getting calls from companies to promote their products, despite the inaccessibility of her newer material. Regardless, this is “Let it Go” part two, or at least Disney’s attempt at one, and I have no idea what relevance this has to the film, but the song itself is okay, although it struggles, as do a lot of cinematic, orchestral show tunes, with structure and a lack of transitions that make the shifts in sections any less abrupt, as at times, it does feel like a certain string section is off-beat simply because you’re never prepared for what’s coming next. AURORA’s verse has a lot of odd empty space, and overall, her presence seems to kill the momentum of the song entirely, even if the chorus has a lot of swell despite some painful, dry mixing that Disney tends to have. Also, this will not be the next “Let it Go”. It’s way too disjointed and not nearly catchy enough, and nobody will be able to hit the belting notes these guys do in the chorus... except maybe Brendon Urie, who in fact did hit those notes in his inferior cover that debuted at #74 (Might be one of the first times since at least 2016 where both the US and the UK have had the same song twice on their charts). Weezer have a song on this soundtrack, too, called “Lost in the Woods”, and I kind of like it, to be honest, with some pretty cool, chugging guitar riffs and great harmonies from Cuomo in the pre-chorus. It’s kind of reminiscent fo the White Album, but I digress. “Into the Unknown” is listenable; next!

#35 – “French Kisses” – ZieZie featuring Aitch

Produced by Tré Jean-Marie

This might not be listenable, however. Aitch was the worst part of their last collaboration, “Buss Down”, which ironically dropped out this week (It’s almost like they called the Official Charts Company and asked them to switch the two out), with ZieZie being equally mediocre, although in his chorus, he was pretty cool, and in the verse, he was vile. I don’t have high expectations is what I’m saying. What a fitting producer for this song, though, and it’s ZieZie’s third and Aitch’s sixth UK Top 40 hit, so... eh? I actually quite like the vintage French vocal and string sample used here, but it’s abruptly drowned out by a bass-heavy Afroswing beat that sounds pretty okay but ZieZie doesn’t play it cool here, reaching into his relatively non-existent higher register in both the chorus and his verse, although admittedly that pre-chorus has some swagger. The post-chorus, on the other hand, has a nasal repetition of nonsense sounds, and Aitch just... Jesus, man, what the hell WAS that? He sounds half-dead, and his monotonous flow is continually harbouring on off-beat! His lyrical content is far from interesting either as he follows the main theme of the song, which is “I’ll give this girl French kisses and make her girl, “ooh-la-la”.” It’s a bit of a flimsy concept, and to quote a geography teacher, there isn’t enough place-specific detail to really excuse this dreck. This is pretty disposable.

#31 – “Loyal” – PARTYNEXTDOOR and Drake

Produced by Dregotjuice, OG Parker and 40 – Peaked at #63 in the US and #19 in Canada

Alright, well, I’m surprised this debuted so high but I’m not surprised it’s here. I’ve only ever liked PARTYNEXTDOOR on uncredited guest appearances (“Ghost Town” by Kanye and “Ratchet Happy Birthday” by Drake) so that doesn’t exactly bode well for him. I assume this will be a very Views or More Life-type song, which also doesn’t bode well as those albums are some of Drake’s worst but obviously have a very large PARTYNEXTDOOR influence. I don’t have much hope for this, but it’s PARTYNEXTDOOR’s third UK Top 40 hit (First as lead artist), and God knows how many of those Drake has at this point. The song starts off well with some lo-fi keys that could make a very smooth R&B ballad... but then the snares come in and it’s obvious this is some garbage. PARTYNEXTDOOR sounds checked-out as does Drake, although at times PARTY decides to just belt and it sounds freaking awful. It’s almost hilarious, actually. To be honest, the synths paint a really pretty atmosphere behind the Young Thug impersonator with the out-of-place “Ayy” ad-libs and the 808s that cover any sense of lead melody. This barely has a groove or melody to catch onto, and Drake’s heavily Auto-Tuned which leads me to believe he just came into the studio for about five minutes whilst drunk. It sounds like both of these lads are drunk, actually. Honestly, I’ve been nice. This is disposable, mediocre garbage, although the outro does seem promising, with some nice strings and cute synths... but I doubt that’ll lead to anything good on the album, if it even does. I doubt PARTY has that foresight. God, this guy is really only good for uncredited backing vocals, huh?

#16 – “New Dior” – DigDat and D-Block Europe

Produced by RXR Music

Okay, this song debuting high shouldn’t be a surprise. D-Block Europe get this high purely off of YouTube and Spotify every few weeks, and they’ve gotten to their highest peak of #16 before with “Kitchen Kings” and even “Nookie” featuring Lil Baby. DigDat, on the other hand, has never reached this high with one of his three UK Top 40 singles, not even “Guten Tag” with Hardy Caprio, which I’m still impressed by and don’t think he’ll make anything as good as that anytime soon, especially not with these two hacks. Young Adz and... the other one have consistently proved to be some of the most untalented yet also the funniest duo from this crop of British rap of recent years. I can’t take these guys seriously, and I know they want me to. This starts as all D-Block Europe songs do, with some incoherent murmuring from Young Adz and nonsensical guitar strumming, but this one has a lot of momentum initially, with Young Adz’s comedic inflections in the chorus (Which is all he has: for once, he doesn’t provide a verse) failing to cover up the hilariously cheap producer tag... but Goddamn it, I like it. I’ll admit, this is a pretty decent song all things considered. First of all, Sean Donoghue, the mixer of this song, sorted out the issues D-Block Europe constantly have with vocal mixing, and to be honest, now that I’ve got to hear his voice a lot better, Young Adz may be more talented of a singer than I thought, although he sticks to a pretty monotone cadence here. In the post-chorus, Young Adz genuinely raps pretty well, and the 808 hits that pound through the beat are a cool addition, as are the yells that act as screaming ad-libs throughout the chorus. DigDat is on-brand, and by that I mean a misogynist and untrusting gangster, but he has two verses here, and they both detail his court case with his brother – not in great detail, but it’s really interesting how he depicts his materialistic mindset failing to let prison tame him. It’s kind of emotional, which is something I never expected D-Block Europe to be. Dirtbike LB is just extra weight as always, although his line about telling his mother that Percocets aren’t vitamins is kind of funny. For once, I think these guys have won me over... well, this song has. I still don’t think these guys are any good, and this may be a complete fluke, but I don’t care. This song is good.

#3 – “Own It” – Stormzy featuring Ed Sheeran and Burna Boy

Produced by Fred Gibson and Jay Weathers

Somehow, I have less hope in this song than I do D-Block Europe’s. Since I’ve already said everything else about this song in the top 10 section, I can skip the pre-amble and get this done pretty quickly. I like the sporadic vocal samples, they have a crowd cheering effect and a sound you can genuinely attribute to found footage rather than some sampled pack. Stormzy doesn’t sound great here, in fact, he sounds asleep and oddly distorted, clipping in the mix several times in the chorus. The synths here are airy and boring, the groove is stiff, the ad-libs are awkward and the beat cuts out for no reason when they come in. Burna Boy comes in with Stormzy on the chorus and for a random bridge / interlude, so I don’t know his purpose here and it makes the song feel very disjointed. The extra glittery synths in the post-chorus are really nice-sounding, and Ed Sheeran can sing better than any of these guys, so he somehow gets the crown of the best verse here, especially due to the harmonies with his multi-tracked vocals and Burna Boy’s. I don’t like Ed, but he definitely brought his talent here, even though his vocodered contributions on the chorus are pretty gross, in fact the mixing on the song entirely is pretty gross – and muddy. Everything sounds a lot more distorted and loud than it should. Is it disappointing? For Stormzy, yes, but for a Stormzy collaboration with Ed Sheeran and extra baggage Burna Boy, it’s about what I expected.

Conclusion

Well, Best of the Week goes to... DigDat and D-Block Europe. Colour me surprised, but “New Dior” is actually pretty good, and Honourable Mention goes to Bastille and the London Contemporary Orchestra for their improvement on the REO Speedwagon classic, “Can’t Fight This Feeling”. Worst of the Week is definitely going to PARTYNEXTDOOR and Drake for “Loyal”, and Dishonourable Mention... uh, sure, ZieZie and Aitch. “French Kisses”. Follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank and I’ll see you next week!

[anavoliselenu]

Manwhore chapter 26

“Baby blue. The perfect event deserves the perfect dress, just like the perfect man deserves the perfect girl,” Gina argues with Wynn.

“I’m not perfect, but I want to look perfect tonight,” I tell them both.

“Your billionaire just struck gold with you tonight, you look like a million bucks—well invested and soon to yield.”

“Wynn!” I laugh.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t just bring him up to your room yesterday and let him stake a physical claim on you.”

“Because . . . we haven’t been together in a month.”

“Exactly why you shouldn’t have talked at all! What’s there to talk about? He wants you, you want him.”

I rummage through my earrings for a pair of small silver studs that bring out the gray in my eyes. “He . . . well, we’ve gone over it, I’ve told you two.”

“No, you haven’t. You get red and that’s it. You can’t talk about him without spacing out . . .”

I groan. My friends, Gina and Wynn, they want to know that I’m going to be all right.

“He read my article,” I say.

They’re looking impatient, their faces alive with anticipation. And I’m remembering. I feel his hands cup my face again. I feel his eyes on me again. His lips so close, and so far away. And suddenly . . . on the very edge of my lips. I look down at the palm of my hand, the invisible Dibs that unfortunately washed off after a week of showers.

“He asked me to go out with him tonight.”

Gina opened one of my wines and when she comes back with three foam cups, I tell myself—please don’t ever let Sin see we’re drinking this wine in foam cups. “Publicly?” she asks, handing a cup to each of us.

“Finally?” Wynn asks, taking a sip.

Setting mine aside, I nod as the butterflies fly fly fly in me. Still hidden in my closet is his shirt. I pulled it out of hiding last night—a shirt that brings back every memory—then I quickly stripped and slipped my arms into the sleeves, buttoning it up.

And that’s how I slept.

It felt like hot, sheet-clawing sex on my skin. I lay in bed, my hormones all crazed, telling myself that I’m not going to do anything sexy until he does it to me.

“And I said yes. And he told me to get a dress.”

He’d said it low but casual, as if it were the most natural thing for him to do for me, in his voice that never fails to get to me. Then I refrain from telling them the rest; that he marked my hand with a pen . . . and I went to my bed, and called my mother in the darkness, and told her . . . and unexpectedly, burst out crying from the happiness when I heard her voice.

“We’re doing this black tie thing and if it’s the last thing I do, I want to look incredible tonight,” I admit, looking at myself in the mirror above my vanity.

I haven’t looked this happy in a while—but I haven’t felt this happy in my life.

“This dress does the trick. The side slit is perfect, the strapless bare shoulders, the way it goes all the way down to your toes. You want to say: you know I’m naughty deep down but it’s only for you,” Wynn says.

“Oh please, like he’s not naughtier than anything we’ve ever known,” Gina groans.

I laugh. My cheeks flare red as I think about him and wonder if he’s as desperate to be with me as I am with him.

“But did he read your article? Something in it must’ve done something to him.”

Wynn brings out the copy of the magazine I have hidden under my bed, mainly because it has a picture of him, and taps on the last sentence. “This part: I’d leap blindly into the air if only there were even a 0.01 percent chance that he’d still be there, waiting to catch me.”

“Wynn. You two. Help me get ready!”

They turn on the music and with “Sugar” by Maroon 5 playing, I keep prettying up for him, repeatedly brushing my hair until it falls down my back, as lustrous as glass.

For weeks, I’ve been alone, staring at my laptop, hearing its low hum. It’s quiet for the night, the reporter tucked away. Now, the one humming is me. I’m wearing a dress fit for a princess. Now my friends are fussing around me, pulling out matching bags and shoes.

Gina is being especially helpful. Gina, who’s been concerned about me getting my heart broken. “Now you’re all eager for me to hook up with the same guy you wanted me to stay away from? You’re Team Justin now?” I tease her.

She pauses. “I’m Team what makes you happy. And . . . well, from what Tahoe told me, yes.”

I roll my eyes. “You believe that man?”

“He loves Justin as much as I love you!” she says. “He didn’t enjoy your breakup any more than I enjoyed watching you mope. He said . . .”

“What?” I ask, my full attention on her.

“He thinks Justin is really into you because usually people only fuck up with him once,” she specifies.

Wynn scowls. “What else did he say? If you’re going to be talking to him then you must tell us when you talk about Rache.”

“I only talked to him yesterday, and he said, and I quote, ‘Justin’s really into your best friend. Never seen him like this—ever.’ ”

I never thought my sexy parts could blush but they’ve been blushing every time I think of him.

“What does Momma Selena say? Does she know?” asks Wynn.

“Mother?” I laugh. Her name is Kelly, not Selena, but the girls call her Mom or Momma Selena.

“She wants to meet him. She’s excited that he came over. But I don’t want to pressure him right now, my momma will have to wait until we see where this is going.”

“Okay, let’s get real here though. Are you planning to sleep with him?”

“YES! Dude, YES, I PLAN TO SLEEP WITH HIM. I’M DYING TO!” I say, laughing with pure giddy anticipation.

“The car’s downstairs!” calls Wynn from the window, then she goes to the kitchen to ring him up, and peers into my room. “He’s coming up.”

“Okay.” Inhaling sharply at the news, I hurry to finish strapping up my shoes and get a sheer blue shawl from a closet.

“Hey, Rache,” Gina says, grabbing my hand. She looks at me and squeezes. “I’m happy for you, it’s been breaking my heart. Because I do have one, you know? Paul didn’t take it all, only the men’s part. But the girl’s part is yours and Wynn’s.” She looks a little emotional, her eyes glistening a little. “You know I don’t believe in love. But I believe in second chances, and this is yours, Rache. And you know, I kind of admire his persistence. He really seems set on getting you.”

I squeeze her hand, breathless at the thought. “You have no idea how he is when he’s after what he wants. Patient but so, so ruthless.”

She smiles at me, and I smile back. Dropping my hand, she heads to peer out the door. “Don’t open it yet, Wynn, she has to look perfect,” Gina orders, but seconds later, Wynn is the one we hear speaking.

“Justin, come in! She’s just about ready!”

I hear his low voice as he greets her and I’m not immune to the sound.

I’m in my bedroom, but through the parted door, I see a glimpse of a long arm in a black jacket, silver cuff link and white cuff—his hand at his side. Tanned and square, his long fingers idle. I feel a visceral reaction seeing that hand, those strong, knowing fingers, my body flushing in remembrance of how it feels when he touches me.

I take one last look at myself in a strapless blue dress that falls to my feet, with a long, sexy slit on the left side, the color bringing out the bluish shades in my gray eyes. My hair is loose and, because my shoulders are bare and I could get cold, I draw the matching shawl a little higher.

The nerves tangle up inside me as I step out and take in the full image of Justin. His back is to me, but I take a tiny pleasure in seeing the back of his head, his confident stance, the incredible amount of energy he seems to suck from his surroundings.

“Oh, there she is!” Wynn happily tells him, signaling past his shoulder.

He turns, one hand in his pocket, the other at his side, and I can’t help but notice how he makes a fist when he sees me. “Selena,” he says.

A massacre of emotions sweeps over me.

I can’t fight the nature of my body, and though I want to look cool, I’m blushing bright red as I smile shyly. “Hey, Sin.”

I walk over, tentatively set my hand on his chest and, seeing the admiring way he’s looking at me, press up on my toes to kiss his jaw.

He touches my bare back and holds me in place, prolonging the time that my lips are on his skin.

“You ready?” he asks quietly into my earlobe, so only I can hear.

I nod and we say goodbye to the girls. He slips his large, square hand into my smaller one, and as he leads me out of the apartment, I turn and see Gina mouthing, “Ohmigod!” and Wynn, a big wide “AAAAAAA!”

When we reach the sidewalk, Otis opens the door of the Rolls as Justin gives him instructions. I’ve barely slid into the center of the seat when the door on the other side opens, and Sin slides onto the bench opposite mine.

I don’t know if he likes my little strapless blue dress, the pink-painted toes displayed by my pumps, or the long slit on the side of said long dress. All I know is that my skin has broken out in goose bumps because of his nearness. And as he settles down across from me and his eyes take a slow, delicious trek up my body, there’s a little bonfire in my stomach.

I check him out too, because his tuxedo loves him so thoroughly it’s an instant aphrodisiac to watch them together. God, I’m this living, wanting, throbbing ache now.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes just a little bit liquid. “You look beautiful.” His eyebrows pull low then, shaping a perfect frown. “Though I was supposed to buy you a dress.”

“No,” I deny, smiling and shaking my head firmly.

“Yes,” he grins. “Stop saying no to me.”

Jesus. He looks at me with his green, green sparkling eyes, and I’m gone, gone, totally gone.

“I said yes to this black tie,” I counter.

I’m not supposed to feel shy right now. If there is a man who knows me, it’s this man. But he’s so masculine and looking at me as if I’m so female, he has the ability to make me feel so young and so terribly fragile.

“I bribed you with wine, I’ve come to know your vices,” he gruffs out teasingly. Then, he reaches out to take my hand and draws me across the car, to his bench. He chucks my chin when I’m settled down. “Your every vice,” he adds, deathly sober now.

“Do you?” I playfully say. “You don’t know them all. If you did, you’d be kissing me.”

He steals a heavy-lidded look at my mouth and I get a delicious little squeeze in my lower body when I realize he is going to kiss me. “But if you kiss me, you’re going to mess up my lipstick,” I say, but he’s already curling his strong arm around my waist and slowly, surely, dragging me flush to his side.

“Your lipstick will look great on me.”

“Sin!” I throw my head back and laugh.

He trails his thumb along the curve of my neck. “That laugh of yours,” he tells me quietly.

He says it as if it’s his greatest discovery.

A hairsbreadth from my ear, he whispers, “I can think of over five feet of you that I can kiss without messing your lipstick.”

Suddenly trembling in anticipation when I recognize the look in his eyes, I let him brush the shawl off my shoulders, laughing faintly and chiding “Justin” as he eases my hair aside to reveal the curve of my neck and shoulder.

He rubs his thumb along my collarbone and looks into my eyes as he continues to gently fondle my skin. He kisses the roundest part of my shoulder, his lips caressing up and down, side to side, before he sets a second kiss upward, heading toward my neck.

“Selena,” he whispers, so thick and raw, trailing his fingers to the R necklace resting at the base of my throat.

I’m acutely aware of his fingers shifting the small, gold letter aside. Then his warm fingertips are lifting the metal so he can press his lips into the delicate nook where my pulse is fluttering wildly. I’m mad with lust under his moist breath on my skin, the space between his thigh and mine, the deliriously slow path of ghost kisses he drops on his way up my neck, toward my jaw.

“I lose,” he says when he reaches my mouth.

I’m confused. I’m bewildered by his meaning. He’s definitely not falling asleep—his stare is as alert as ever. But he said I lose and I can see that he’s really determined to lose somehow. Determined to lose against whatever it is he’s fighting. He looks completely unapologetic too.

“I lose,” he repeats.

My eyes widen when he reaches out and brings me over to his lap and every bit of Justin is surrounding me, enveloping me, maddening me. The dark gleam in his eyes is completely serious, completely unlike the times he teases me. Jaw set, he curls a hand around my nape and pulls me to the wall of his chest, so close that all that’s between us is my dress and his shirt.

His eyes are fastened to my mouth now and OMG, I’m so breathless when he brushes his lips across mine.

“Do you think it’s this intense between us because of what happened?” I whisper.

His lips feather across mine again. “I don’t know . . . but I’m pursuing it. I’ll take this fire any day over the ice I live in.”

His chest is rising slowly, and I’m starting to pant. I’m trembling all over. My heart is beating madly and I’m holding my breath, waiting for what he’ll do next. His warm hands, his strong chest, his soft mouth suddenly pressing to the corner of mine. I catch a sob as he sets the ghost kiss right there, right where I need it, where I love it, where it branded me from the first time.

The lipstick doesn’t matter anymore, nothing matters.

I open my lips, but he drags his mouth up the side of my face and exhales slowly, fisting a hand in my hair as he holds me to his chest. I don’t move a muscle. If he’s giving me time to protest, I can’t. I just can’t. I missed him so much, a ball of emotion is forming in my stomach and my throat and my heart.

His delicious scent is killing me. So familiar I’m high.

His hair tickles the side of my face as he goes to the other corner, and I can smell his soap, and when he sets his lips fully on mine, I quiver. He slips his tongue lightly into my mouth, as if testing my resistance.

I open easily and when his tongue strokes over the side of mine, I rub back languorously, a low, dull throb building between my legs.

He eases back and then he’s staring down at me with smoldering heat that’s almost frightening. He’s looking at me like I’m something else, something extraordinary, something perfect, like he can’t believe I’m trembling in his arms.

His hands frame my face, his palms swallowing it as his lips start to crush over mine harder. Groaning, he starts kissing me a little bit faster, and I can’t get enough, can’t work my mouth fast enough to get all of him that I want. I push my fingers into his hair—his hair! And let him use the small of my back to press my breasts against his chest as he sucks on my tongue, slow and greedy. Justin is kissing me like he wants me more than the world he likes to conquer and more than the moon he’s never been able to get.

We kiss a little more.

I pour all my love into the kiss. My walls are crumbled at my feet when the kiss stops, but I have no energy to pull them up right now. My lids are heavy, but so are his. I’m struggling to breathe, but his chest is pushing against his shirt as he breathes deeper too.

“I missed you,” I whisper.

He murmurs into the top of my head, “I missed you too.”

We fall silent then, simply in each other’s arms, until we reach our destination.

I’ve never been both so relaxed and at the same time buzzing all over.

When the car halts, Justin wipes my lipstick off his face, strokes his thumbs over my lips while I fix my hair, then he steps out first to a few audible gasps outside. He stretches his hand into the car for me, I slip my hand into his and then let him pull me out, immediately stunned by the dozens of heads in line at the entrance of the party already fixed in our direction. They spot Justin and immediately their curiosities are piqued as to who he’s with, so they glance at me and can’t seem to hide their surprised faces.

I’m shaking inside but his hand, oh, it feels so steady as we head over to the bouncer to be admitted inside.

He squeezes my fingers to catch my attention. “The look in your eyes. What are you afraid of ?” he asks as the bouncer swiftly recognizes him and tugs open the door for us.

“The world.”

He grins down at me, so tall and powerful. “Relax,” he says. “The world’s in my pocket.”

And I feel relief flood me as I let myself believe it.

The ballroom is glistening when we arrive. It seems like all of the rich in the city are present. I force myself to hold my head high.

Modern glass chandeliers hang like tangled wires from the ceiling, while a wall of shimmering waterfalls greets us to the right. There’s a live orchestra, chocolate fountains, and perfect round tables covered in white linens and silverware, complete with Tiffany chairs to match. We venture deep into the crowd, walking amidst an impressive amount of glittering dresses, men in black ties, women in exotic perfumes. I’m aware of how those women watch Justin, and the men watch me. God, it’s incredible, the eyes he draws. Even if people don’t know who he is, Justin’s presence is so magnetic you instantly know he’s someone.

“Don’t let them own you, Selena.”

“I won’t,” I say.

“You’re with me.”

I look into his eyes. “I know.”

“Then let’s make a round and I’ll take you away . . . if you’re good,” he warns. And there, suddenly, is the spark of mischief in his eyes that I’ve missed so much.

With a brief look at my mouth that reminds me of the kisses he just gave me, he leads me to our table and introduces me to our table companions. I keep expecting to be sneered at, shunned. But soon I realize, no. These people respect Justin too much for that.

And they steal him away every second they can too.

I engage in a brief conversation with a couple he introduced me to, shaking my head when three different women come to flirt with Justin.

When we finally come back together, I can’t help but tease him. “Can’t you be alone for a minute? Without anyone catering to you?”

He smiles at me and turns me to a spectacular-looking older woman. “Selena Livingston, this is Norma Dean. She’s our host.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with your work! I read your piece on this thing right here.” She smacks Justin’s chest. “And I was hooked by your voice. Such a lovely, smart, passionate girl. What took you so long to snatch her up?” she chides.

“Traffic.”

When I look up, Justin’s lips are curled slightly and his eyes are twinkling and a ribbon of heat unfurls in my stomach.

And then I realize after her comment that maybe, incredibly, some of these people also respect me.

He soon leads me back to our table and introduces me to a few CEOs and their wives, philanthropists and entrepreneurs. They’re all older than us and very friendly.

I feel like I belong, even though I’ve never belonged here before, and I realize as we sit here discussing everything from ponies that they bought for their daughters, to business merger news, to the best hairstylists in town, that Justin wouldn’t have brought me somewhere if he thought I’d be shunned or laughed at. He respects these people too, and expects them to respect me. Every time one of them says his name and leans forward a bit in their seat to talk to him, they do so with such admiration that I realize he knows that my just being in this space of his will protect me. And I do feel safe.

A man has taken up a conversation with Justin on one side, while a woman is completely telling me the story of her marriage to the man sitting beside her. She’s at the part about how the ex-wife and her actually became good friends, when Justin whispers, “Let’s get away for a bit, Selena.” He looks at me as though it’s not even a question. “If I can borrow her for a bit, Julie,” he apologizes.

I’m aware of us drawing a few glances when we stand, his friends raising their eyebrows as he takes me by the arm and helps me to my feet.

He puts his hand on the small of my back and I feel it rush through me until I feel it in the tips of my breasts, between my toes, as we head out of the room to a set of elevators.

I notice that a couple of groups of young ladies in the room pause what they’re doing to watch us head to the elevators. They clearly don’t like him leaving with me.

“Your girlfriends weren’t too happy about you stealing away with me.”

His lips curve in amusement. “They’re not my girlfriends.”

“So what do you call all those girls who strip for you and cater to your whims for a day or two . . . or four?”

He stares at me, laughing, his smile like a bolt of light. “They’re just girls.”

We reach the top of the building, and he leads me out onto the roof terrace. “Come look at this.”

I turn with him and head to the very edge of the building’s roof, by the railing, with a breathtaking view of the lake. A sliver of moonlight dances in the middle of the water tonight. As he looks at it, I watch him in my peripheral. I have a thousand pictures of him but none like this. Pensive. Raw. The face I see right now isn’t for any camera, it’s for nobody to see.

“Won’t your friends miss you downstairs?” I ask, my voice whispery.

“They know I’m a busy man. They also know I enjoy my privacy when I feel like being private.” He studies me with the moonlight gleaming in his eyes. “I have a date with that blue dress of yours.”

“No you don’t.” But my stomach dips in excited contradiction. “I have no intention of letting it get acquainted with your tuxedo.”

“Yes, you do.”

He takes my hand, his warm fingers closing around mine. “I feel like being private right now.”

There’s a swooping pull in my insides as he reels me closer.

He’s the first to move, his hand lifting only a fraction to rest on my face as he curls me in his arm so we both face the lake.

I hadn’t ever grown accustomed to being held like this, the few months we were together. I stand here and just absorb the feeling of being close to someone who’s so much bigger and harder than I am.

We stay like that. The very air over the water seems electrified. He runs his hand through my hair and the sensation is so sweet and so intoxicating, I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

He obviously knows he affects me. But he looks affected too, his body stone-like and buzzing with tension. “I wanted to show you this. You see that lake?”

The wind brings his scent toward me and I swallow and almost taste it.

“I don’t ever want to leave Chicago simply because I love being near that lake. My mother used to take me out there—the Pearl was her yacht,” he says. “She’d never let me get in the water. After I was sick, she became paranoid. So I had to test my limits in private.”

“She took you out there just to look at what you couldn’t touch?” He shrugs. “And now you test your limits all the time.”

“I do. Sometimes to feel immortal, and sometimes to remind myself that I’m not.”

His eyes are mesmerizing right now.

“She was a good mother?”

“She was a good mother; I was a bad kid.” He smirks.

“No,” I say, instantly.

He smiles.

God, my stomach moves every time he smiles at me.

“I’m telling you, Selena.”

“No. I don’t believe you were a bad boy.”

He laughs. “I’m still a bad boy, only I’m a man, with the ambitions of a man. The desires of a man.”

As he investigates my reaction with a quiet but penetrating look at my face, I remember his father. The things I’ve seen and read online. In every video of them together I’ve seen, Justin is chill and controlled, admirably diplomatic even when the father is aggressive and full of venom. If Justin had been a “good” boy, though, he’d never have become who he is. His father would have kept his “good” boy under control, but instead, he became Justin Justin, and now the shadow Justin casts is so much grander than his father’s ever was.

“You know,” I hear myself offer, my voice showing my admiration for him, “my mother worked too much. Day and night. Maybe that’s why my imagination flourished, it was sometimes the only company I had. We didn’t really get to spend a lot of time together. Which makes me always want to give back, but it never seems like I can make it up to her.”

“I know what you mean. I can never say goodbye to mine.”

I’ve never been more aware of him as a human being.

Justin stands with his legs spread apart, staring out at the city, his profile mysterious and unreadable. I can tell by the sound of his deep breath he’s trying to remain unaffected. By the conversation. Maybe by me. But when I brush my body against his and he looks at me, his eyes turn to fire.

“Come home tonight, with me.”

One second I’m opening my mouth, trying to come up with an explanation why maybe we should take it slow, the next he brushes his mouth to mine.

“What are you doing?” I laugh nervously. “I’m going to end up with no lipstick at all.”

My skin breaks out in goose bumps when his reply is merely a curve of his lips. “Tell me you want to talk about Interface,” he whispers in my ear. That used to be our code for kissing . . . making out. “Tell me you left something at my place.” He rubs his nose against my ear. “Tell me you want me tonight.”

“I . . . I want to talk about Interface,” I say, not able to hold back a small laugh.

He strokes a finger up my arm, watching me. “My goal is complete domination of the market . . .” he murmurs as he lowers his dark head, his lips soft and warm as they press on my throat. “Elimination of all competition . . .”

He ducks his head and I feel his mouth brushing, almost like air, over the tip of one breast. I can’t breathe.

He lifts his head and frames my face in his hands, warm, strong hands, and then he smoothes a hand back, pulling me closer, his long fingers encompassing so much of me I feel it like a collar around the back of my neck. A collar that’s remarkably welcome, that makes me feel safe and controlled while the rest of my body’s in chaos.

His voice is low and gruff and his breath is too close to my face, my ear. “I’m taking over,” he continues in a husky voice. “Until there’s absolutely nothing left. Nothing before it. Nothing after it. Only what’s mine, what I claimed and what I make of it.” He kisses me then, and we kiss for a long time.

“Maybe I’ll invest in this Interface,” I whisper.

“Come down with me. One walk across the room to meet a few of my business partners. And then we leave.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“I’m not asking on this.”

When we head back downstairs, he places a hand on my waist. He caresses it as we go down—and oh, I definitely feel like his date.

“You’re a devil.” I laugh as I check my reflection in the shiny elevator wall.

“And you want me.”

I mock-gasp. “You’re a deluded devil.”

“I’m one who won’t stop until I get what I want.”

When we step off the elevator, he guides me into the ballroom with his hand on my nape. The touch is light enough to remind me I’m free to choose, but with just the right amount of pressure that says—I’m here. I desire you. Turn yourself over to me for a night and I’ll make every inch of you remember you’re my woman.

He lowers his hand to the small of my back, even when he’s stopped at a table to chat with a few businessmen. I let him introduce me and talk mostly to the men.

Only a few of the younger women at the table make me a little uncomfortable.

They’re draped in the most beautiful jewels, and looking at my tiny, simple R. Their dresses glitter and sparkle as they take in my plain silk one. Their hairdos are styled and swept and elegant as they stare at my straight locks. And judging by those looks, they just can’t seem to believe that the one standing next to him is me.

And still Justin’s hand remains on the small of my back.

I’m surprised that, for the first time since I’ve known Justin, I don’t care about these women, if they read my article or not, if they’re jealous, if they think I’m pretty enough for Justin Justin.

I’m human and flawed and hopeful and afraid and strong and weak and independent—and in love with him in a way I’m sure they are not.

I’m proud to be who I am.

I’m proud of where I stand.

REBOOTING US

Once we’re in the car and the partition between us and Otis is fully up, Justin presses me up against his side and his lips come down on mine. He parts my lips and his taste fills me, going like a shot of crack to my heart. A soft noise leaves me as I kiss him back with all I’ve got.

My fingers flutter over his shoulders and then I curl my hands around the back of his neck as we slow down and start kissing more leisurely, savoringly, getting reacquainted again.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks as he sets my mouth free. His eyes are so dark, I can hardly see the green in his pupils.

Nodding and breathless, I slide my fingers into his hair and pull his delicious mouth back to me. He fits his lips to mine, to the way he knows just how to.

He plays with my tongue a little, sucks gently on my lower lip.

The fingers of one hand trail under the fall of my hair and then he slides them upward to cradle the back of my head in his palm, and with that motion alone, he’s got me pinned in place. I’m helplessly subjected to his hungry mouth, and the way he’s kissing and sucking on me is so downright hot I’ve never been so turned on.

I end up lying down on the bench seat with his body above mine, my hands anxiously gripping fistfuls of his collar.

His tongue sweeps and sweeps into my mouth and when he retreats to give me a smoldering look, I notice the way his green, green eyes have darkened like a night forest.

“I miss you,” he rasps, looking at me so fiercely it’s as though he’s commanding me to understand what this means.

“I miss you too,” I croak feelingly.

“I miss the taste of you, the feel of you, the sounds you make.” Clenching his jaw as if he’s remembering what it was like to miss me, he strokes his curled index finger down the line of my jaw, watching what he does. I watch the emotions play across his features as he opens his hand and caresses my face and neck. Determination. Hunger. Control.

I’m panting, aching, wanting, waiting. Holding me by the back of the neck, he pulls me up to a sitting position and in for another wet kiss. Leisurely, his mouth slants from one side to the other as he tastes me from all angles. I feel delicious, juicy, luscious. Wanting to taste him just as thoroughly too, I draw his tongue into my mouth and suck, surprised by how the sucking motion causes every centimeter of my body to squeeze and Justin to reflexively tighten his hold on me.

He groans and draws me onto his lap and shifts me so that I straddle him, then he lowers the top of my dress with a little tug at the elastic of my strapless.

“Justin, what are you doing?” I gasp, covering my chest with my arms as my breasts pop free.

“I’m looking at you.” Completely shameless and in control, he takes both my arms and lowers them to my sides.

I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them, embarrassed to realize he’s probably noticed I used nipple stickers to keep from having to use a bra tonight. I didn’t want my nipples to be poking out, and now my perky breasts are staring up at him with two small, round tan stickers on them.

He runs his thumbs over each. My sex squeezes when I notice his gaze is loving, appraising, possessive. And dark. So very, very dark.

“I meant to take them off before you saw,” I whisper.

He kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’ll do it.” Then he leans close and kisses one tip of my breast over the sticker. Then the other, his lips warm and gentle. He then raises his head as he seizes each sticker between his thumbs and fingers and looks into my eyes as he gently pulls off one, then the other.

A frisson of need runs through me.

The act is strangely intimate. Looking into each other’s eyes as he does this to me.

He lifts his thumb to his mouth and my sex tightens when he licks it. He does the same with his other thumb. Then he uses both to rub my nipples clean, and I almost moan out loud.

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