It was as if he was my proudest accomplishment and yet my most obvious regret. The lines blurred with him, and nothing made sense.
But that’s what was so intriguing perhaps about this boy – that no matter how confused I was, and how guilty I felt, I also never wanted this feeling to ever go away.
“You think you can just kiss me like that, against my will, after four days of complete silence, as if it’s nothing!” I scream, and go to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.
“So you’re trying to tell me that you didn’t want that kiss as much as I did?” He keeps a neutral expression, which is frightening, because I’m so used to a smirk.
“No! I mean … no! You can’t just kiss me without warning!”
But then his smirk returns as I fumble to find my words, and as stupid as it sounds, I’m relieved to see it back on his face.
He moves in closer, keeping eye contact.
He hadn’t acknowledged my problematic uniform yet, but it was coming.
“Where were you? Do you even care about the team?” I press on, partly because I was scared of what other rude comments he had planned next.
“I was busy,” he shrugs.
“And Yasmine wasn’t here either. Is that just pure coincidence?” I huff. I sounded like an idiot, bringing this up again. But I needed to know.
“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you?”
“You’re really fucking sick, you know that? You- you stir shit up, then you go and show me an amazing time at the library, and then you disappear. And for what, so you can take turns pleasing the both of us?”
Fucking pathetic.
I knew this, because when I had stopped talking, I took in what I had just said, and cringed internally.
But I also knew this, because the amusement plastered on his face nearly drove me to slap it off him.
“I’m sick, for messing around as a single man?” He closes the space between us, pinning me up against the wall once again.
“I-”
“And what makes you think there aren’t more than two of you?” He leans in, his breath hot against my face.
He had been drinking, and I absolutely hated it.
“Y-you’re -”
“What, Dove? An asshole for fingering you and then dropping by Yasmine’s dorm after to do the same?”
Was he seriously admitting all of this to me, or was he just messing with me, again, trying to push my buttons until I cracked open.
“Get off me! I never want to -”
But I can’t even finish my sentence as I watch him step back at my push, and his eyes finally lower to meet the rest of my body.
I could almost reach my high just by watching him watch me.
“Fuck, what are you wearing?”
“Uh, m-my uniform shrunk at the dry cleaners and I -”
“Stop talking,” he moves his body close to me once again, this time bringing up his tattooed hand to my face and pressing his pointer finger to my lips, giving me no choice but to stay quiet. To avoid another shove, he takes both of my wrists in his other hand with ease, and holds them down firmly.
“I missed you,” he breathes, as he moves his lips to my ear, whispering the words I so badly wanted to hear last time when I had said that to him first.
“Did you miss me?” He continues, this time placing a small kiss to my ear, before moving his lips so that they hovered over my neck. Somehow I knew his face was shaped into a massive grin, even though I couldn’t see it.
“You know I did,” I manage to get out, before his lips made contact with the thin skin on my neck, and a whimper escapes my lips.
“Good. So then let’s not worry about boyfriends, or Yasmine, or anything else right now. Why do you always have to go and complicate stuff?”
“I don’t -”
“Are you going to keep arguing with me?” His voice is low, as he traces the curvature of my neck with his lips before speaking the words.
After I decided I had enough of his teasing, and just him speaking back to me in general, I grab a fistful of his hair and kiss his lips hard, moving his head away from my neck. His body gently rocks against mine, then becomes more forceful, and I can feel the already short skirt rising up and down with the vigorous rub of our fabrics against one another. I could feel his erection growing against me, and he swallows my embarrassing moan at this, letting one out himself.
“Fuck,” he curses against my lips, and I literally lose it.
“Touch me,” I breathe, after noticing his hands were still on my wrists, holding them down so that I couldn’t escape.
I wouldn’t try to this time, even if I could.
He pulls back for a second, hunger evident in his eyes. But his surprised expression at my request makes me feel suddenly insecure, and I replay the events of the night I had asked Sam to do the same, and he couldn’t deliver.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” I lie, as I try to steady my breathing.
“Oh, no?” He smirks, and suddenly lowers himself on his knees in front of me.
What was he doing?
But then my prayers are answered when his hand slips up the inner part of my thigh, resting just below the part of me that craved him so badly.
He looked up at me through thick eyelashes, and said, “Don’t fight it, Dove. It’s normal to want these things.”
I watched him with lustful eyes as his head dipped for a second, and his fingers hooked into the hem of my shorts, pulling them down the length of my legs in one swift motion along with my panties, and tossing them to the ground.
Then he looked up at me one more time, and I simply nod, giving him all the confirmation he needed.