When we left the bar, both of us were drunk out of our minds. The driver in the cab refused to take us to another bar because he too could see that we had enough for one night, I blamed the tequila, it worked fast.

"Hey Mitch," I began as we sat in the backseat of the cab, "Have you ever done it in Sadie?"

Mitchell looked even more wasted than me when he answered, "In my G Wagon? No, I would never ruin her seats like that."

"So," I began in a drawl, "You've done it in another car?"

He nodded, "Yeah, more than one."

Of course, his family had more than one car, they probably had a whole parking lot full of cars.

He shifted closer to me and brought his lips to my ears, "I did it in my dad's Rolls Royce, after homecoming dance in high school."

He looked smug when he pulled away and I had to admit I was impressed, seemed like Bitchell wasn't as much of a prude as he portrayed himself to be. I slapped his shoulder and looked proudly at him.

"You naughty devil." I commented.

"But," I said more seriously, "Wasn't your dad mad? I mean everything in a Rolls Royce is handmade."

He looked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language, "Are you insane? Why would I tell my dad? And the seats were fine," He wriggled his eyebrows. "We did it cowgirl style."

I raised a brow at him, "You thoroughly thought it through, didn't you?"

"Of course." He replied.

I didn't know why but I started laughing at his little story, to me, it was hilarious at what a rebel he was when he was a teenager, heck maybe he still was.

It wasn't a long drive when the driver brought us back to the hotel and dropped us off out front. I got out of the car first and Mitchell followed me.

I stood in front of the hotel building; I knew I was very drunk because the lights of the hotel were looking very blurry, instead of just the light I saw lines around the lights.

"I missed summer." Mitchell's voice interrupted my stare off with the lights when he appeared next to me.

We began walking side by side towards the entrance of the hotel.

"You're from LA, it's always summer there." I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I've been in Boston for almost four years now and before that, I was in Connecticut for Pre-Law." He answered.

"Aw poor Mitchy hasn't lived at home for a long time." I teased him.

"But you're right," I agreed, "Summer is wonderful."

"Hmm," He hummed and looked up at the sky, it was a clear night with not a cloud in sight, the stars were shining high and bright and the moon beamed above us. "It's a wonderful night. In our busy days, we forget to appreciate the little things like the stars."

I nodded, "It's a pretty damn wonderf – whoa!" I missed my step and almost tripped over my own feet but Mitchell grabbed my arm.

I put my hand up and convinced him, and myself, "I'm okay, I'm okay." I said loudly.

He chuckled, "Someone is beyond wasted."

He then took the arm he was holding and put it around him and thereafter put his arm my waist.

"We will support each other in this seemingly difficult task of walking to our hotel room." He told me with a goofy grin.

With our arms around each other, we walked and somehow our drunk brains thought we could support each other, when we couldn't even support ourselves – nevertheless it was reassuring, and we walked fine afterward.

"What was I saying?" I mused out loud, "Oh yeah, it is a wonderful world, we need to appreciate her more."

We were nearly at the double glass doors of the hotel entrance when Mitchell spontaneously started singing, "I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you."

I looked at the side of his face in excitement, I loved singing, so I was surprised he started the singing for a change. I smiled widely and sang with him as we walked into the hotel foyer, forgetting that there were two receptionists and a doorman present.

"And I think to myself, what a wonderful world." We sang together. When he heard my voice, he looked at me with a wide grin.

"I see skies of blue and clouds of white, the bright blessed day, the dogs say goodnight." I sang in a louder pitch with him.

"And I think to myself, what a wond-" Mitchell stopped midway while I sang along.

"... a wonderful world." I sang and then stopped when I realized he stopped.

I looked at him with a frown and he looked at me like he was about to burst out laughing.

"Why'd you stop?" I asked.

"What did you say? The dogs say goodnight?" He laughed.

"Yeah," I stated, "That's how the song goes."

He shook his head and laughed even harder.

"It's," He paused to compose himself, "It's the dark sacred night, not the dogs say..." He trailed off and burst out laughing again.

"Whatever," I giggled, "Not my fault the singer got the lyrics wrong."

Mitchell was finding it a lot funnier than it actually was and because he was laughing, I laughed. That was the thing about laughter, it was contagious.

Mitchell suddenly straightened up and cleared his throat and hushed me, "Shh, we're going to get kicked out of my father's hotel."

I looked around to see the two women sitting at reception looking at us with unreadable expressions, but I could only imagine the judgment going on in their minds.

"As if they would dare." I said loudly so the women and everyone else around could hear.

I then pointed at Mitchell and said even more loudly, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm with the boss, Mitchell Freaking Clar-"

"Shh," Mitchell hushed and covered my mouth, he laughed under his breath, "You are going to really get us kicked out."

He let go of my mouth and I wondered if he was serious, I mean there was no way they would kick him out of his hotel, but then again I also noticed how Mitchell always kept up a reputation when he was in public, so I supposed even when drunk, Mitchell had to upkeep an image.

We got into the elevator and I was feeling exhausted, so while Mitchell pressed the button to take us to the top floor, I rested my head on his chest, and let my eyes close for a moment.

I thought Mitchell would resist but he didn't, he kept his hand firmly around me while I felt the steady breathing of his chest acting as a sort of lullaby.

I inhaled his unique scent and even though we were out all-night drinking, he still smelt good. Something was alluring about a man who smelt good, and Mitchell never failed in that department.

I took in a deep breath and nuzzled my nose in his chest, "You smell good."

His chest vibrated when he chuckled, and I felt him nuzzle my hair.

"You smell like lemons and vodka," He said, "Makes me want to taste you."

I replayed the sentence in my mind to make sure I heard correctly; Mitchell was bold tonight, but this was a whole other level.

I opened my eyes and removed my head from his chest to look up at him, he looked down at me with a shameless smirk. I mentally commended him, he truly learned well from me in these five days, or this was a side of him that he had been hiding all this while.

If he were bold, I would take it a step further and show him how audacious I could be. I looked at him with a mischievous grin and trailed a finger over his chest.

"In what way shall I take that statement, Mr. Clarke?" I innocently asked him.

He looked down at me with an amused smirk, "When you speak to me like that..." He trailed off and took in a breath.

His smirk didn't wane once when he looked down at me in amusement, his eyes moved down to my lips and then further down to the bustline of my dress. Simultaneously, his hand which was around my waist slowly moved upwards until it reached my arms, he gently grasped my shoulder and with one quick, swift movement, he had me pinned against the elevator wall.

He stood in front of me and very openly checked me out from head to toe. He slowly moved towards me and closed the gap between us by keeping me in place with his hips. Looking at him like that suddenly made me feel small in comparison to him.

He took me off guard when he pushed his knee between my legs, separating them a fraction. That action of his resulted in my breath picking up a notch. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on me as he lifted his one hand and placed it on the wall beside my face and the other hand trailed down my arm, reached my fingers, and then touched my waist again.

He inched his face closer to mine as his hand ran down my waist to my thigh where the hemline of my dress touched my skin. In feather-light motions, his fingers slipped under the dress and he caressed my upper thigh.

As soon as his hand got in touch with my skin an involuntary gasp escaped my lips. He noticed that because a small smirk appeared on his lips. He moved his face so close to mine that his beard brushed against my cheek when he moved his lips to my ears.

"Mila." He huskily whispered, his hips pressing firmer into me. I felt a chill down my spine when his breath fanned against my earlobe.

"I want to," He began and paused for a second before he continued, "I wanna put you in seven positions for seventy minutes, you'll get it babe."

My eyes popped as each word left his mouth, he moved away from my ear and was face to face with me again, he ran his tongue over his lips before he lowered his neck so his lips were in line with mine.

He was so close that I could feel his breath on my lips from his parted lips. He looked in my eyes and then down to my lips as he said or more like sang softly, "You got a lot on your mind, and I want to ease it up and lick it and slip it in."

His eyes met mine again and I wore utter shock as an expression. He was daring all night and when I thought the salt licking was bold, he comes up and says all of this to me.

I gulped and when I noticed that his smirk turned into a grin. He stared me down for a short moment before he said, "You're not the only one who can talk dirty – if I want, I can be filthy."

'For the umpteenth time tonight, who was this man who resembled Bitchell?' I mentally asked myself.

"Whoever you are and whatever you've done with Mitchell, leave him there because I assure you no one will miss him." I told him.

He chortled under his breath and was about to say something but the ding from the elevator stopped him, he looked at the door open and then back to me.

"Shall we continue this in our suite?" He cheekily asked.

I looked squarely at him and said, "Sure, the last one to take off their panties is a rotten egg."

With that being said, I bumped past him and walked out of the elevator. I knew I left him a little speechless behind me because he most likely expected me to be flustered but I showed him that no one could render me silent, no matter how much they tried to seduce me, I'll always have the last say.

Once inside the suite, I slipped off my shoes let and out a yawn. I stretched my arms and mumbled, "What a night."

Mitchell shut the door behind us and stepped around to where I was standing, "You're calling it a night already?" He trailed a finger on my arm and added, "What happened to seven positions for seventy hours?"

I rolled my eyes but decided to play along.

"Tempting Mitchy," I drawled, "But I just do not have the energy tonight. Raincheck?"

He raised a brow at me, "Some twenty-one year... wait." He trailed off and looked at his watch.

He looked up at me with a wide grin and made his way to me, "It is officially your birthday... as of almost two hours ago."

I looked at my watch and seen that it was almost two in the morning, I looked at him and he looked as excited as a kid on Christmas morning, one would think it was his birthday.

"So it is." I mumbled.

"Don't be a Debby Downer," He said and grabbed my hand, "We have to celebrate."

My feet followed him to the bar area of the suite. He left my hand and I watched curiously as he searched for something between the shelves of the bar.

"Hold on." he said and stumbled his way to the kitchenette,

'How does he have room for more alcohol?' I asked myself.

He was back in no time with two champagne glasses and a bottle of champagne. He smiled widely at me as he kept the glasses down on the bar counter and then popped open the bottle of champagne.

"Ah." A small shriek escaped my lips when the foam started to topple over.

I giggled when I watched Mitchell effortlessly fill the two glasses with champagne. He set the bottle down, lifted the two glasses, and handed me one.

I contemplated, it had been such a long time since I celebrated my birthday in any way, so this was feeling a little overwhelming

"What are you thinking about? Take it." Mitchell urged.

I gave in and took the glass. Mitchell raised his glass and looked at me, his eyes looked so sincere and... happy even.

"To the most irritating, obnoxious, frustrating pain in the ass – Mila Bandera, here is to you on turning twenty-two." He grinned at me.

"Cheers." He said and our glasses clinked.

I took a sip of the bubbly liquid and I had to admit the champagne was pretty good, I guessed it was one of the perks of being a guest in the presidential suite.

"Always remain the jovial, carefree spirit you are, never change." He told me sincerely before he took another sip.

I did the same and offered a small smile. Even though his gesture was incredibly sweet, I still couldn't help but feel sadness at the pit of my stomach. Something about birthdays always made me a little emotional and nostalgic – the alcohol in my system only heightened that feeling.

My thoughts were put to a halt when Mitchell downed his drink and placed the glass down, he then took mine and put it down next to his.

"Mandatory birthday hug." He sang and stretched his arms.

I shook my head and took a step backward, "N-no, no, I don't do hugs."

"Oh, come on, I was licking your body earlier on and now you're shy to hug me?" He teased.

I took more steps backward, but his long legs took bigger steps and he grabbed me in a big, tight hug.

"Mitchell." I squealed.

"Happy birthday Milo!" He exclaimed and tightened his hold on me.

He held me so tight that I could feel the beat of his heart from his chest. His cologne mixed with his unique masculine scent with hints of alcohol lingered around my nose while he held me.

I figured he wasn't going to let go of me until I stopped restraining, so I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back. As I stood there, I thought it was the alcohol, but, instead of awkward, it felt pretty normal hugging him.

He nuzzled his nose in my hair before he gently pulled away. With his hands still around me, he looked down at me with an idiotic grin, and his drunk eyes made him look even funnier.

"Happy birthday Mila." He earnestly smiled.

I genuinely smiled at him. It was refreshing to see this casual, laidback version of him. In fact, he was pretty damn cute when he was drunk.

"Thank you, Mitchell." I said.

He pulled away and ran a casual hand through his hair, "Tomorrow we will celebrate properly in Vegas."

I raised my brows at him. "I doubt you'll be able to even look at alcohol tomorrow."

He smirked at me, "Who says we need alcohol to celebrate?" He winked.

"Really?" I was amused at his bold answer, I looked down to his crotch and then asked, "Are you finally comfortable to free that willy?"

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it, he frowned a little and then looked at me with a spark in his eye.

"Come with me, I want to show you something." He grabbed my hand and without giving me a chance to resist, he dragged me towards the staircase.

As we made our way up the stairway, I whined, "Mitchell, I was just kidding. I seriously don't want to see your dick."

He ignored me and took me to his bedroom. He opened the door and turned on the lights once we were inside. I looked at his bedroom and it was much better than the one I had – it was huge and luxurious.

"Uh, Mitchell, what are you up to?" I hesitantly asked as we walked in the direction of the four-poster bed.

He again didn't answer me, I was getting a little nervous. I wasn't too sure if I was ready to do what he had in mind. Maybe teasing him so much was a bad idea, that Free Willy reference might've been the last straw for him.

I let out an audible breath when Mitchell pushed aside the closed curtains and opened the glass door which led to the balcony. He took me outside and let go of my hand, gesturing to the outstanding view.

We were on the twelfth floor so the entire lit-up city could be seen from his room balcony, the night was warm and smelt of summer.

I took in the view and was in awe, I looked at him to see him gazing at me.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked him.

He didn't reply but offered me his hand to take. I looked at his hand then up at him with a frown.

He gave me a look, "You told me about your tradition of dancing at midnight on your birthday."

"I know I'm not your mom and it won't be the same but new traditions can be made with new people, right?"

I looked up at him and after what felt like eons my heart warmed, I couldn't believe he paid so much attention to our nightly stories and moreover, he was doing something kind and sweet.

"Besides," He added with a cheeky grin, "You did say you call me daddy."

I laughed and placed my hand in his. He smiled when he held it and intertwined our fingers, placing his free hand on my waist. I placed my other hand on his shoulder and looked up into his bright eyes.

"There's no music." I told him.

"No problem," He stated before he started singing. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you."

I couldn't resist the wide grin at the choice of song. He pushed me outwards and pulled me in again, while he sang, "Happy birthday dear Mila, happy birthday to you."

He then spun me around a few times, "From good friends and true, from old friends and new, may good luck go with you and happiness too."

He pulled me towards him again and we danced in sync, he looked down into my eyes and sang, "Happy Birthday to you, the annoying things I could say about you are infinite, But I will only take a minute to say this trip is a better experience with you in it."

I giggled at that lyric but also felt a little warm on the inside, and I made a mental note to remember that last line so I could throw it in his face the next time he was pissed at me.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Milo," He bent and dipped me.

He looked at me with a warm smile, "Happy birthday to you." He finished and before lifting me again he tapped my nose with a wink.

I giggled and the sadness I felt downstairs was gone, just by Mitchell's thoughtful gesture. I swallowed down a lump in my throat when my mind played back the times my mom would dance with me, not just on my birthday but at random times and whenever I was sad. Today Mitchell, unknowingly lifted my mood with just one dance and a silly version of the birthday song.

He gestured with his head to go inside and I easily gave in. I followed him and watched him plop himself, flat on his back on the bed. He looked at me and tapped the spot next to him.

I looked at