Diamonds On White

17 | ♛ | Parisian Macarons

S E V E N T E E N
parisian macarons

A.E.A

"ADRIAN STOP, IT'S FREEZING!" I shout at an undressing Adrian.

"Hence why I'm getting in the hot tub." Is all he says in the midst of throwing his shirt and pants aside to put that sculpted body on full display before sinking into the steaming hot tub.

Half an hour had passed since Celeste had left with Ryver to safely drop him home, Elle had offered to take Casp while Blair was left with Art-and the entirety of those thirty minutes had consisted of me coaxing a drunk Adrian to head inside and call it a night.

But of course, the heir of Alexanderson Enterprise only abides by his own orders and that is why he's currently smirking at me from a hot tub during a 5°C New York night.

"Join me." He offers, making a humourless chuckle leave my throat which he arches a single brow at "I thought you liked the cold, last I remember winter used to be your favourite season Angel."

Everything about that sentence makes me stiffen.

Why does he have to remember every single thing.

"Don't call me that." I cross my arms, remembering that I'm still wearing his hoodie which now had a few dustings of flour over it. Adrian tilts his head, as if just remembering the same thing his eyes roam down to his hoodie "Does it bother you?"

No. The opposite, actually. And that is precisely why he needs to stop.

"You're not in your senses Adrian, so put your clothes back on and get inside to sleep off all that bourbon you chugged." Is my answer, his smirk turns sinful, hand now making languid strokes in the purple-illuminated water "Does that bother you as well? Me being here, next to naked."

Bastard. Arrogant bastard.

I grind my teeth together, avoiding looking anywhere but his face, anything lower is dangerous territory "When you get sick tomorrow, do not come crying to me."

That damned hand continues to play with water, even as he leans back with a satisfied groan that hits me straight to my core "But it feels so good in here, I think getting sick will be worth it." my breathing becomes choppy watching him tilt his head back and giving me straight access to the long column of his neck and tattooed collarbones "Come on, join me Arden."

I stop my perusal of the tantalizing view at that command. Adrian's drunk persona is a highly exaggerated version of his normal flirtatious and cocky self, he'd been pushing me from the moment we were alone, I've had enough. It's my turn to have some fun now.

"If you insist." His neck snaps up at that sentence-at the tone of that sentence-I smile at him, a portrait of angelic innocence as my hands reach the band of my leggings in slow, deliberate movements. He watches them drop, raptly honed in on my bare legs. He's always loved my legs, loved my tall height.