Rating T/M (on the verge of T): It is hard to determine the Rating for this story, so I have set the Rating as T as of now. But if anyone has any problems with this decision, please do not hesitate to inform me.
- Seducing the Seducer -
A modern fairytale of lust, passion and seduction…
To win a prince's hand is no longer children's play;
Add in a dash of cliché and two entwined fates,
Let the music and the magic of adolescence begin.
Chapter one: The Masquerade Dance Part I
Featured Song: Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado feat. Timberland
"Belle," Claus whispered in her ear, "just listen to me. I'm pretty sure that this isn't a good idea."
Isabelle only shot him a mischievous grin before resuming crawling her way though the bushes. Braches creaked and leaves rustled as she clumsily headed towards the echoes of distant music not far ahead. Few twigs snapped off at the contact of her body and pricked into her skin, sending a tinkling sensation down the back of her spine. But perhaps that was only the result of the escalation of excitement within her stomach. Perhaps both; She didn't know.
Giving up, Claus heaved a soft sigh, which was instantly drowned out by the crunching and crackling of the leaves underneath her shoes. Seconds later, the movements and the stirs of noises informed her that he hadn't backed out of the plan. She turned her head around and shot her best friend a smile, but the latter merely rolled his eyes.
The blasting music was drawing nearer now with every little step she crawled. Shouts and laughs ricocheted here are there, bouncing off walls and echoing far into the night. Speckles of lights twinkled in a distant, complimenting the blissful starry sky above. And the scent of BBQ rips and fries floated into her nostrils, making her mouth watered involuntarily. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the trees broke away to reveal a small opening. Edging closer and poking her head outwards to gaze at the scene, Isabelle couldn't help but gasp in awe as the secret rendezvous unfolded before her eyes.
The secret rendezvous, was anything but the meaning of its name. Moreover, it was actually the biggest party held in town every year, which everyone knew about. Preparation for this momentous event would start almost a month prior to it.
Akin to any other high school parties, alcohol would be treated as water and very soon, many would be stoned or drugged, successfully transforming the scene into a prostituting paradise. But this wasn't just a high school party, there were no boundaries for entry and everyone, ranging from college students to young professionals, could attend. All of whom belonging to the elite crowd of course. And most unfortunately, that didn't include Isabelle.
It was at least two years since she had attended even a school party. And it was exactly two years since her mother's death—along with her former reputation in Kenton, a town where she was raised. Now, at Royal Valley, she was scooped at the bottom of the hierarchy—and she tried to keep it that way; the least she wanted now was redundant attention. She kept her focus on her schoolwork, and maintaining her scholarship. Her stepfamily wouldn't allow otherwise anyway. But deep down, she longed to have some real fun that was so lacking ever since the fateful day of her mother's funeral.
And so, she had finally decided to do exactly that on her seventeenth birthday, as a special treat for herself. As if Lady Karma was on her side, the secret rendezvous was just conveniently held on the exact same day. This unfortunately required some sneaking in, as she did not have an invite. Luckily enough, this lumbering process was eased as the organizers of the party had finally racked their brains and added in a tinge of creativity into the play this year, and transformed the annual secret rendezvous into a masquerade dance.
This had caused an excitement-uproar just a few weeks ago to all of those who were invited, and also to those who weren't but still wanted to go, as they now had a way to attend without being caught.
And that was her plan exactly. If she and Claus could somehow slip into the bash ground without passing the main entrance, where invitations were checked, they could easily merge in with the crazed crowd without being recognized. But the main problem was getting in through another route. This was the main reason why they had left the house at seven to hike up the mountain at which the party ground was located on. After getting lost twice, courtesy of Claus's superior map-reading skills, they had finally arrived at the destination three hours later and fortunately, the party was just heating up.
The crackling of leaves behind Isabelle prompted her to swivel around slightly, and she met Claus's gaze as he crept up from beside her with a small frown on his face.
"Belle," his voice was quivering from angst, "we really shouldn't be doing this. My parents will go ballistic if they found out. Heck, they might even lock up my computer for a week. And to top that off, my brother is here; he can't possibly miss me even if I'm all masked up." He pointed to his bleached blonde hair in accentuation.
"Don't be such a wimp, there are tons of people around; he'll never recognize you if you aren't catching too much attention," she scowled at him, "besides, both my stepsisters are here too, so you are not alone in this."
"But Carol and Beverly are just plain stupid, you have absolutely nothing to worry about."
"Good point. But too bad, it's too late to back out now."
He only sighed but said nothing else in reply.
A few seniors from their school walked pass their hiding, laughing and drowning down large bottle of beers. Almost everyone was wearing masquerade masks accompanied by formal attires. Though, after only an hour into the party, most guys had already loosened up their ties and unbuckled their collars. The girls also seemed to be wearing less and less. Undoubtedly, some were probably already out in their birthday suit having a hell lot of time in the cars parked just outside the party ground.
Checking that the coast was clear; Isabelle took off her beanie as straight brown hair rolled out and landed softly on her shoulders.
"Turn around while I undress," she said as she put a hand on the zip of her jacket and Claus immediately groaned and turned his back, "no peeking."
"As if I want to…" he muttered, which earned him a few braches hauled his way.
After skinning the muddied cargo pants and windbreak she wore during the hike, the silky crimson dress she slipped on hurriedly was a pleasurable contrast to the rough fabric. Isabelle had picked out this particular piece of wear in the mall a few days ago, with the little amount of savings she had, solely for this occasion. The V-shaped collar dug low down to her breast and most of her backside was revealed. All in all, the dress was too short and revealing for her liking, but it was perfect under this particular circumstance if she didn't want to stand out form the crowd.
Discarding her dirty clothes in a pile, Isabelle sat on it as she took off her boots and replaced them with a pair of jewel-adorned heels, which were at least three inches higher then her normal converses. It seemed like years since she had last worn heels. After fastening the last of the belts, she stood up at her full height and nearly tripped over her own legs. How the hell people walk in these feet-killing foot wears was really beyond her comprehension.
Finally able to steady her balance, she looked over at Claus who had already changed into a suit. His collar was buttoned up and a tie wrapped neatly around his neck. He also had a jacket on, which accented his slouch.
He furrowed his brows when he saw her attire, "well, you look… different."
The distaste in his voice made her fumed a little.
"Yea well, I'm suppose to look like them–" she pointed at a few girls standing nearby, who was currently flashing a clear view of their cleavage to a group of males, "–to fit in. That's the main objective of the plan. But you, on the other hand, aren't doing it very well, I must say."
Isabelle glided up to him as fast as her heels could carry her and ripped the jacket off his form. He instantaneously protested with a 'hey!' but she only hushed him quiet.
"Take off your glasses," she demanded after loosening his tie.
"Why?" he sounded horrified.
"How are you going to wear your mask otherwise?"
Sighing for the umpteenth time that evening, he took off his glasses reluctantly and pocketed them. "Happy?" He asked, slightly annoyed.
"Ecstatic," she replied in a hush, while fitting a black mask over his face.
She had opted for a white mask herself which was completely embellished with white crystal. It had cost her a fortune, but it was the only one she could find which complimented her crimson dress.
"Alright, ready yet?" she asked at last, feeling a spur of excitement within her stomach as she brushed a single leaf out of Claus's hair. Their plan had better work, or else they would be, to put it bluntly, royally screwed.
"Anytime." He answered with a grin.
He put an arm on her shoulder just as she wrapped a hand around his waist. "Go."
They broke through the bushes. Almost simultaneously, Claus imitated a hurling noise which halted the chatter in the crowd immediately.
"I told you not to drink too much, look what happened!" she announced in a loud voice as they both emerged from the trees.
So much for a Cinderella entrance. She thought dryly to herself.
Claus hung on to her shoulders breathlessly and began to groan and splutter. For a person who had never even touched a single drop of alcohol before in his life, his pretense was exceptionally good. In fact, it was so convincing that only a few of the by-passers looked their way before resuming their chatters.
"Good job," Isabelle whispered into his ears as they continued to stumble across the field. Now that they had entered the ball, she was able to regard her surroundings more clearly. There were food stalls to one side of the party, and benches where a few couples were currently dancing on top, kicking off dirty plates as their friends cheered on. There was a small bar to the left, with neon stools occupied by drunken partiers. The stereos were blasting what she recognized as 'Beep' by the Pussycat dolls. And the sea of people stretched on for what seemed like a mile on the dance floor, the tangle of limbs moving like waves.
Suddenly overwhelmed, she headed towards the bathroom while passing a group of guys trying to light a bon fire with an assortment of random objects.
"Alright," she let go out Claus as they reached the door and he nearly stumbled on to the ground. "I'm going to fix up myself for a bit first. I'll find you later, okay?"
Claus quirked up an incredulous brow but nodded his consent nonetheless. After watching him merged into the crowd, Isabelle turned and headed into the bathroom.
Ignoring the moans and grunts emanating from almost all of the cubicles, she dusted away little bits and pieces of leaves and grass before washing her hands and face thoroughly. Digging into her bag, she fished out a box of old makeup she had retrieved from her stepsister, Beverly's, drawer.
After hastily brushing through her face, lest someone came in and recognised her, she stood back to admire her handy work. She had to say she didn't look bad at all, and was glad that her years of not practicing didn't rust her skills with cosmetics. She stood back a little, realizing that her reflection seemed a bit foreign, yet familiar at the same time. It was a while since she bothered with her appearance. Her face had grown slightly longer, more angular. But everything else seemed almost the same since she had last attended a party when she was fifteen—sweet, oblivious fifteen. But now, the naïve and childish innocence in her eyes were replaced by apathy and sharpness.
She turned away and put her jeweled mask back on.
She was going to have a hell lot of a fun time tonight, she told herself. From this moment onwards, she wasn't Isabelle Maurice Keyes. She had no worries, no qualms.
And as if her mask symbolized an anew identity, she touched it reassuringly before letting a slow smile spread across her face. She was just another faceless girl in a party. It didn't matter if she screwed up, no one would recognize her. Everything was just perfect.
Satisfied, she looked at her new facade once more before sauntering out of the bathroom. Outside, the music was deafening and the chats and laughs emitted from the horde of partiers didn't help much on the volume.
She looked around her surroundings, but Claus was nowhere to be found.
Not a bit anxious, Isabelle walked on, trying to adjust to the mayhem and her new shoes. After all, she had a whole night to spend. Her step-mother was out of town, which meant she only had to get home before any of her step-sisters did. This wasn't a big feat, since they would probably be passed out somewhere and couldn't make it home that night.
Nearby, the group of guys she saw earlier on had already started a small bon fire and were dancing drunkenly around it. They were laughing and chanting, and Isabelle couldn't help but grin at the obscure sight. One cute blonde caught her eye and looked her up and down, before raising his beer at her in appreciation.
Shaking her head and strolling away, she quickly identified the bar as the neon blob obscured by a roaring crowd. She didn't drink anything beforehand, so she figured she might down a few shots to aid her coherence, as Isabelle was never a talker.
Fighting her way through the mope, she tossed the bartender the right amount of money before asking for a vodka martini and tequila shot.
The guy behind the counter took a long look at her opened cleavage before grinning and handing her more than enough change.
'For you pretty lady, the shot is free.' He grinned as he was ushered away by other customers.
Isabelle didn't know if she should be disgusted or grateful. But after deciding she didn't really care, she lifted the drink with a small hint of urgency. She really wasn't much of a drinker, but she hadn't drank for more than two years now, and she couldn't help but yearn to taste the liquour in her mouth. Almost like an adult finding their childhood toys, it's a call of memory, a reminiscent of happier times.
And as she hastily gulped down from the glass, its chilling bitter taste burning her throat, she couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was as if she was in Kenton again, laughing without a care in the world…
…She resurfaced. And the secret rendezvous flooded back into her sense tenfold. The loud banging and the music seemed to be louder than ever, and she realized with a bit of amazement that she had already finished half of the vodka.
This went on, and after her second shot, she could finally feel the alcohol take effect on her as a sudden burst of heat lit under her skin. She was just about to take another shot. And it was then that she felt a presence from behind.
Her exposed back was tingling in alarm when a low voice drawled lazily near her ear, "hey."
Looking over her shoulder, she took in the speaker's fame, which had to be above six foot, as she had to tilt her head upwards even with her heels on. His hair was dark, almost black, and eyes a freezing blue. Despite the fact that he was masked, Isabelle could tell that he was gorgeous…and proud. A player no doubt.
Perhaps in another time, another space, she would have basked in the attention. But right now, she felt that she had been catching too much of it in one night. Checking that her mask was still firmly in place, she turned and nodded at him in acknowledgment.
"Do I know you?" She asked curtly.
He seemed surprised for a second, but quickly recovered and cordially handed her the drink he had been holding in his hand. "For you."
She took it hesitantly before lifting the glass near her lips. "Apple martini, huh?" she asked with a smirk.
For all she knew, it could be drugged. But for some reason, Isabelle doubted it, so she took a small sip.
Taking this as a sign of acceptance, he shot out his hand. "Logan." He said, referring to her earlier question.
She shook it, still drinking from the glass… until she nearly spat out all the content in her mouth as realization hit her full force.
Logan? As in Logan Grayson?
Regaining her composure, she assessed him again in a new light.
She knew him. Everyone had. The Graysons owned basically half the town here, and that was saying something, as Royal Valley was a notoriously expensive residential area. He was a Senior at her school. She had caught glimpses of him at lunch when she wasn't working in the Library. He was always surrounded by a group of jock friends, and some wannabe airheads who seemed to be fawning over his every move.
By now she knew she should have turned the other way. A Grayson had a spotlight following them whenever they go, and to Isabelle, that really wasn't a good thing. But something made her stay; maybe it was the curious part of her that wanted to know why her stepsisters had gushed over him so incessantly. Or maybe the haughty part of her, who was smug that she had landed the most sought after guy in town.
Logan broke the silence first. "So, are you going to enlighten me with your name?" He asked with a smirk, as if seeing right through her. It was evident that his name rang a bell in her head, considering her transparent reaction. But now, just because she knew who he was, he thought he could have it easy with her. As if.
"I don't see the need of it," she drawled, leaning her frame against the wall behind her, "you would probably have forgotten me by tomorrow."
That was definitely not the answer he was expecting. She could see it in his shocked, yet bemused gaze.
"Oh," he casually placed his hand on the wall, "now, I definitely won't."
"But I don't know," Isabelle looked up with mock innocence, "I was told not to talk to strangers." Her feigned purity somewhat contrasted to the sexy dress that she was wearing, which basically screamed 'sex kitten this way'.
Logan's smirk widened, "trust me baby, we won't be strangers after tonight."
"Well, I guess I'll have to remain anonymous until then," she lifted a shoulder flirtatiously, "that is, if I choose to stay of course."
"If?" He repeated dubiously. "Is that a challenge?" There was a hint of playfulness in his voice.
"I don't know. Do you think I'll be a challenge?" She took another sip on her martini, hiding a cheeky grin.
There was a moment of silence as they both stared at each other, accessing.
Logan was the first to speak up. "I'd like to find out."
"I won't disappoint you." She set her glass on a nearby stool, toying with the ice.
He took a long look at her again before stretching out a hand. "Then dance with me."
Dancing… her heart lunged in excitement at the thought'. She hadn't danced in a very long while, at least not outside her room anyway. But she didn't want to seem easy, as there was absolutely no way Logan would be leaving with her tonight (even if that was definitely his intention), all things considered.
"Treat it as a form of gratitude for…the drink," he added with a wink.
Her weak resolve broke. "Only one dance." She gazed at him under her lashes before walking in front of him and making her way towards the dance floor.
The song 'Promiscuous' by Nelly Furtado featuring Timbaland was being played. Lights shone on her face and the in the next moment, she found herself staring at what seemed to be the center of the dance floor. Couples all around was crowding about and feeling up each other shamelessly under their clothing. Standing near the stereo, the music magnified.
"How ya doing young lady
The feeling that you gave me really drives me crazy
You don't have a player on your trunk
I was at a loss of words
First time that we spoke"
Logan gave her a mock meaningful look after Timbaland finished his monologue rap. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a small smile creeping up to her face.
After the count of two beats, he swiveled his right leg and moved his body to the rhythm. The beat was fast, he had to admit, but nothing he couldn't handle.
The girl in front of him seemed almost timid for a moment, her hands rubbing against the fabric of her dress anxiously. Her lips were curled into a luscious full-pout. She stared around before lifting her hand to her hair in a somewhat subtle dance move. He raised an eyebrow at her seemingly innocent behaviour, his expression unseen behind the mask.
The way she retorts reflected her proud and dignified personality, yet her actions resembled another. It was as if she was trying to be someone she wasn't, but he couldn't figure out if her cool or coyness was her pretense.
It was her sexy, yet lean frame which had first caught his attention. Her cold attitude that intrigued him and her puzzling persona that drew him in.
She was a mystery, and Logan was determined to solve her by the end of the night—in more then one sense.
"You expect me that I'll just let you hit it
But will you still respect me if you get it?"
Isabelle bit her lips, and dared herself to look up at her partner, who currently had his hand in one pocket, dancing in careless freestyle. She had to admit that he looked really good, but was quite positive that she could meet his pace; if not for the last coherent thoughts that were holding her back.
She already drank one too many apple martinis, and if she was a tad bit more careless, she might end up getting caught without an invite. Or worst still, finding herself in bed with Logan the next morning.
But perhaps it was because of the previously mentioned liquour in her system, those thoughts flashed before her in less than a second before fading in tune with the music. She suddenly wasn't in the mood to comprehend the warning bells jingling at the back of her head.
And with that wild spur, the heavy stone weighing down her body dropped.
She shook her head slightly and her hair trailed in a semi-circle around her skull in a brown veil. Her torso swayed slickly in a slow stretch. And guiding her hands up her curves lazily, she looked up at Logan under her lashes, daring his eyes to follow her movement.
And sure enough, he did. And when she halted mid movement at a pause, he looked up just in time to see a smug grin stretching on her face.
"All I can do is try, give me one chance
What's the problem? I don't see no ring on your hand
I'll be the first to admit it, I'm curious about you, you seem so innocent"
Logan stared at her lips for a moment. Her mouth ticked upwards playfully, her eyes gleamed like a deadly predator, and he'd just fallen into her trap.
As music drummed into his ears, he made a show of looking her up and down.
His eyes trailed to her hips as they swiveled and swung to the tempo. One hand was resting behind her head and the other on her hip as she moved her whole body in an 'S' motion. Her brown hair twirled into the beat and fell off her shoulders as she turned her head to a side, eyes closed. One hand slid upwards to the place right underneath her breast… and he just couldn't look away.
Her every move captivated his eyes and he suddenly felt an urgency to loosen up his tie. He longed to feel her hair, her back. He had a sudden urge to feel her body against his, to feel her movement against him.
Unable to stop himself, Logan reached out a hand and rested it on her hip, drawing her closer. He didn't travel any further, but he could still feel her muscles tensed up underneath his fingers.
"You wanna get in my world, get lost in it
Boy I'm tired of running, lets walk for a minute"
Isabelle shivered at his touch. It was as if something inside of her had awakened from a deep slumber. Something that was now hungry from a certain black-haired, blue-eyed boy.
Pride refused to have her feelings showed. But his hand shadowed the curve of her movements, resting as light as a feather on her hip. The adrenaline-rush he gave her almost made her already racing heart combust from overload.
The heat radiating from him was sensual, it was too much. All she wanted to do now was to wrap her hands around his neck. To pull him in closer… closer, and closer…
She felt his fingers slipped neatly to the small of her back. A tickling sensation of excitement ran up her spine, and the gap between them suddenly seemed all too wide.
Her head pounded against the rhythm of the music. It was so unfair, Logan had hardly done anything to her, but he'd already had Isabelle spell-bound. She was loosing to him. But Isabelle Maurice Keynes was never the type to back down. Not in her lifetime.
She let a flirtatious smile take over her lips. And when the lyrics paused, she slid one hand to his neck. Placing the other atop of her partner's, she slowly traced her fingers up his arm.
Wherever you are
I'm all alone
And it's you that I want"
His muscles flexed at her touch, and Logan felt his insides churn. The beast in him clenched his stomach in craves for her. His own heartbeat echoed in his ear.
Her fingers teased him senseless as she let her hand walk up his arm and then joined the other around his neck.
His back tensed and he swept his eyes to her face. The crystal on her mask refracted the light from the disco ball. Her lashes swept downwards and her lips swollen and ruby red. His sudden urge to close in their proximity was more than innocent. He wanted to taste her lips; he wasted to taste her everywhere.
He could feel the heat like he was on fire. Gosh, the girl wrapped around him was on fire.
She was flaunting her hips, her legs, but she wasn't all over him. It was like she was deliberately being a tease, and it was making him crazy. He wanted to pull her in closer; he wanted her, but succumbing to his own wishes would surely drive her away.
The heat was unbearable. He caught his own hands sliding down her hips, and his heart clenched and shouted in desperation.
Let's get to the point
Cause we're on a roll
Her heart skipped two beats of the music when she felt his hand trailing lower on her back. A gasp was at her throat, and the chills had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
The arms around his neck tightened. Heat radiated from his body, and it was barely tolerable, yet irresistible. He was like a drug, and she, the helpless addict. She wanted more. She wanted to be closer. She wanted to forget about all her cares and be a blonde bimbo hanging off his arm. She wanted him…
Leaning her head on his shoulders, she let her body slant into his. One hand loosening his tie and roaming his broad chest. She felt him flexed against her and her whole body prickled until she became numb.
The music was fast and loud in her ear. What was happening to her?
"Hey! I can't keep my mind off you
where u at, do you mind if I come to"
Her body pressed tightly against his, and Logan suddenly felt craziness swept over him.
The way she swayed her hips initiated an abrupt desire to push her down and do whatever he wanted with her.
His whole body was craving. It was too much. His heart was racing a marathon, and it had nothing to do with the dancing.
He almost chocked when he felt her breathe on his neck. His chin rested in her hair, and she smelt overwhelmingly nice. Natural and refreshing, and he just couldn't get enough of it.
"I want you," he said to her hair, but he knew she heard.
Her dancing paused for a second before she glanced up at him, smirk in place. "So does everybody else."
"I'm a big girl I can handle myself
But if I get lonely I may need your help
Pay attention to me I don't talk for my health"
Isabelle could feel him against her body. Her backside ached and she was breathless. She wanted him to be all over her, she wanted to be all over him.
Brushing her lips against his cheek, she placed her right palm on the left side of his nape. Then with a swift twirl, she turned in a 180 degrees spin, her backside intimately close against his chest. His hands glided swiftly to her stomach and she lent her head backwards on to his shoulder.
She felt his chin tipped downwards on to her neck, his breathe made her stomach prickled in the intense heat.
"Baby we can keep it on the low
Let your guard down ain't nobody gotta know
If you with it girl I know a place we can go"
Logan's skull pounced in his head, he felt dizzy under the loud volume of the stereo. The music ricocheted around the wall and around his whole body. He felt her move against the beat.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her stomach and her movements devastated his sanity. He wanted the dance to last. He wanted her in his arms… he wanted her everything…
He placed his mouth near her ear so that she wouldn't miss a word over the blasting music, "can we get to know each other more…?" he whispered haphazardly.
Her neck tightened as she laughed, "And why do we want to do that again?"
She suddenly moved her body in a shift resembling a snake and he felt his mind broke out of control.
"… Don't toy with me, baby."
She only laughed but didn't reply as both of her arms snaked around his neck… her smell overwhelmed him and he felt the dam in his mind burst.
You already know
That I'm all yours
What you waiting for?"
In the midst of her hectic mentality, Isabelle wondered if she could seduce the seducer. A nobody seducing a player.
She cocked her head to one side as Logan leaned his nose on to her nape. Isabelle could smell the cologne he was wearing; she could feel his hair tickling her face.
Then she felt his lips pressed lightly on her neck, and she was lost, yet again to his spell. He kissed her neck again, and again, and the moan she'd been suppressing escaped her throat. Her hands clutched his hair and she leaned her head sideways, giving him access to work his magic.
It was like something was eating up her inside slowly, it was like a swirl of heat in her heart…
You're teasing me
You know what I want
And I got what you need"
Logan couldn't keep the desperation out of him. Her voice had stirred his innards.
She was toying with him. He felt exasperated. He'd had enough, but he wanted more at the same time. It was all too confusing for him to handle.
His desire had become his needs. And his mouth met her neck a little too hard. He wanted to brand her, to make this girl his own. Her gasp made his entire world spin.
It wasn't like anything he'd felt in his life. It was like fireworks. It was like he'd met his own match. He'd met someone who had mastered him. But at that moment, he didn't care one bit. He wanted to be shackled; he wanted to be lost like this forever.
"Frica Don't be mad, don't get mean"
Isabelle's heart ran loose. He was all over her. He was everywhere like wild fire.
"Frica Don't get mad, don't be mean"
Logan wished her dress would suddenly disappear. It was in his way and he wanted it gone.
"Hey! Don't be mad, don't get mean"
She closed her eyes, and the world was just a field of darkness and wild sensations.
"Frica Don't get mad, don't be mean…"
The words and lyrics of the music trailed off into a twirl of heat. Letters merged into lust and rhythm morphed into desire. The world was eerily silent and slow. The beats of the song were no more then the mere beats of their hearts…
edited: 13/6/09. Hope you guys like this version. Isabelle has certainly aged (like myself), although her age remains the same, if you know what I mean.