"No," he shook his head again. "But I'm sorry in advance if I do," he paused, bringing his eyes to mine again. "Rip it," he smiled, starting to lean in. When he got too close, I started doubting if I made the right decision.

So I closed my eyes to drown out stupid thoughts of regret.

"I hope that's okay, Indie."

My eyes snapped open, meeting his directly.

He chuckled, leaning in and pressed his lips to mine. He started kissing me but I have no idea how much I kissed back. Or even if I did. He just called me Indie. For the first freaking time since I've known him, he called me Indie. He pulled away to look at me.

"You just called me Indie," I stared, dumbfounded.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Isn't that your name?"

"It is. But you never call me by my name. You've never called me Indie before. So, why now?"

He shrugged, "It seemed more fitting for the moment."

"Why don't you ever call me Indie?" I'm curious now.

"Because everyone calls you Indie. Someone should call you Indigo, might as well be me. That's our thing, isn't it?"

Isn't it?

"Do you have any more questions about your name or will you actually kiss me now?"

I snapped out of it, nodding. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he shook his head. He grabbed my waist and pulled me forward, closer to the edge of the counter before smashing his lips against mine, much harder than last time.

I actually kissed him back this time, grabbing a hold of his black v-neck. I don't know, but I was pleasantly surprised by the kiss. I always knew he was a player and I thought, okay maybe he's good in bed but there has to be something bad about him. So, he must be a sloppy kisser.

But no, he really isn't. He knows exactly when to deepen it, when to soften it, when to hold it in the same way. He's kissing me like he's kissed me before and knows exactly what to do. And he actually does know exactly what to do. At least that's how it feels. And it's driving me insane.

His hands went to my ankles where he somehow managed to unhook the strap and then pull my heels off, letting them drop to the floor. His lips moved away from mine but started trailing down my jaw and neck, settling in one spot. Simultaneously, his hands started sliding up my back, looking for the zipper. He found it and pulled it down but it definitely got caught because he huffed, pulling back to look at me. "I'll rip it, I swear to God."

"Don't," I clicked my tongue, pushing him away. I reached behind me, finding the zipper, and zipped it back up a little before yanking it all the way down. "There."

His lips found mine again and he didn't take the dress off immediately. His hands just roamed up and down my body over the fabric of the dress. And that confused me because guys don't usually pay so much attention to foreplay. They're always eager to just throw the dress off, get me naked, and get it done. But he's really taking his sweet time.

What am I even doing? This is so not the right thing, I know that. But I'm still not stopping.

I tugged at his v-neck but he didn't stop kissing me and he didn't take it off. I tugged harder and he even smiled against my lips. But he didn't fucking take it off. I groaned, pulling away from him.

"Tell me something."

"You always want me to tell you something," I whined, running a hand through my hair.

"You really won't tell him?"

"No," I deadpanned.

"Does that mean I can't either?"

I shook my head. "That's between you and him, don't bring me into it. I want nothing to do with that asshole. Why so many questions?"

"There are certain things I should know before I'm inside of you, Indigo," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "I knew it was too good to be true."

He laughed softly, kissing my jaw. "Things like this don't work if you don't trust me."

"I trust you with sex. Other than that? No."

"Why do you trust me with the sex then?"

"Because I know that you know what you're doing. I know you fuck around a lot but somehow girls are still okay with it. Now, if you're just sleeping with a girl and rejecting her, but she's still coming back smiling, you must be doing something right. Right?" I asked, resting my arms around his neck. I tilted my head to one side, watching him watch me. "Hmm?"

He nodded slowly. "Right."

"Can we go inside yet?"

"No," he shook his head.

I sighed, staring at him.

"I want to know. Why me?"

"Because you're his best friend," I shrugged.

"That's a bitchy thing to do."

"So is cheating on someone. On their birthday. Ditching them. Completely ignoring them, not even answering their calls and texts, while they wait for you to pick them up."

"He didn't cancel earlier?"

I shook my head.

He watched me for a minute. "You're not going to start crying, are you?"

"Over him? No way," I scoffed, shaking my head.

"Good. Sex is never good after crying."

"That's not always true. You're taken care of after you've cried," I chuckled.

"Are you here to be taken care of? Because this isn't the right place."

"Am I crying yet?" I lifted a brow at him, leaning back on my palms.

"You're here out of anger and frustration. So, do you want to lead?"

I blinked, a little surprised. I've never had a guy ask me blatantly if I wanted to lead. Some guys don't like the girl leading at all, some guys don't care which way it goes. But nobody asks so genuinely.

"Why don't we switch through and through? Surprise me," I shrugged.

"Okay then," he laughed a little before leaning back in, bringing his lips to mine. When I tugged at his shirt this time, he did throw it off, leaving it on the counter. He worked the straps of the dress down my shoulders and the dress fell off, pooling around my waist since I was still sitting on the counter.

My legs went around his waist while he held me by the waist, sliding me off the counter but keeping me up.

He slowly set me down without breaking the kiss. The second my legs straightened out and my feet hit the floor, the dress fell all the way down, and I stepped out of it, kicking it aside.

He picked me back up and put me on the counter and I pushed him away, gasping. "Marble is cold, asshole."

He laughed, pulling me back down. "Sorry, sorry. Most girls are distracted enough to not feel it."

"I don't buy that one bit," I scoffed.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes, trapping me between him and the counter and leaning down to kiss me while I went on my toes.

"You're so tall, doesn't it—"

"You talk way too much," he groaned against my lips, shutting me up pretty well. He deepened the kiss quickly and pulled me away from the counter, holding my wrists behind my back. He either knew his apartment really well or he was making sure I didn't crash into anything while we walked around the kitchen island.

My back hit a door and he let go of my wrists. But when I brought my hands up and touched his chest and abs, he grabbed them quickly and pinned them on either side of my head. After kissing me like that for a while, I was getting impatient. "Switch," I said breathlessly.

He let go of my wrists and spun us around. I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, walking him inside. I kept walking until the back of his legs hit the bed and he sat down.

He tried standing back up but I kept my hands on his shoulders. "Switch," he mumbled, pushing my hands off and standing up, turning us around and making me sit back down.

I laughed while he trailed kisses down my neck. "You don't like being told what to do," I sang.

He stopped at a sensitive spot and started sucking harder than he was before in the kitchen.

I winced lightly because it stung. But it was the nice kind of stinging, the kind of pain you craved a little more each time. The lights in here were already mostly off, the window curtains were drawn back and the bedside lamp was on, that was it.

Without stopping, he slid the hair tie off my wrist and then placed his mouth back on mine while he gathered my hair, pulling it into a ponytail. He was able to find the bra hook without my hair getting in the way and he unclasped it with one hand.

I don't even want to think about how many times he's done that before. I pushed him off. "Switch."

He let out a small groan but sat down anyway. He scooted back on the bed and then pulled me into his lap, still facing him so I was straddling him. I kissed him, trailing kisses down his jaw while he pulled the bra down, tossing it aside. "Mm-mm," he shook his head.

"What?" I huffed.

"Switch." He rolled us over and pulled me to lay down while he hovered on top of me. He leaned back down, trailing more kisses down my neck, going lower this time. To my collar bone and lower than that too.

"Take off your pants, I'm basically naked," I said. We had to slow down, I needed to catch my breath.

He pulled away and worked his sweatpants down quickly. "There. Now we're even. You need a second?"

I nodded.

"Sorry," he shrugged, pinning my wrists down again and kissing my neck.

I could still breathe, technically. But he knows what to do and that doesn't help.

"Your heart is racing," he chuckled, kissing my pulse point.

"Switch," I demanded.

He pulled back, looking at me. "Fine. I'll let you take this time."

We rolled back over until I straddled him, kissing harder, taking more aggressively this time. And when my fingers and nails scratched down his chest and abs, he didn't ask to switch.

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