AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Should I come with?”
“No! Enjoy the pool.”
She smiles at me as I get up. Water drips from my skin. The party roars behind me, but I manage to slip away, unnoticed. My feet pad against the stone tiles as I make my way to the bathroom.
The door locks with a satisfying click, and it’s just me, reflected in the mirror—cheeks flushed, eyes bright with adrenaline. A queen crowned in disarray, hair clinging to my shoulders, underwear sticking to my curves like a second skin.
I pee quickly before going back to the mirror to wash my hands.
I fix myself quickly, splashing cold water on my face, trying to calm the racing of my pulse.
Ready.
I open the door and start my way back to the pool.
But I don’t get far.
“Hey, there she is! The beer pong queen!”
I freeze. A guy stands swaying before me, his eyes glazed over from one too many shots. He’s got that look—the hungry, predatory kind that sees a target, not a person.
“Looks like you ditched your kingdom, huh?” His voice is a drawl, thick with liquor and unwelcome intention.
My stomach tightens and annoyance prickles like thorns under my skin. “Just taking a break,” I reply, keeping my tone light, nonconfrontational. My instincts scream at me to move, to escape this unwanted encounter.
“Come on, don’t be like that.” He steps closer, the smell of alcohol wafting off him like a toxic perfume. “How about a private celebration?”
I sidestep, aiming for casual evasion, my heart pounding a war drum rhythm. “No thanks. I was just going to get back to the pool.”
“Aw, don’t be shy.” He reaches out, his hand brushing my bare arm, and it’s all wrong?—
“Really—I should be getting back.” I dodge again, but he’s persistent, cornering me with a confidence that’s bolstered by booze and ego.
“Come on, I saw those shots you made. Bet you’re a hell of a lot of fun.”
I am fun. Wild, fierce, unstoppable. But I’m not his—or anyone’s—to claim with such smug assurance.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say, feigning regret, but my patience wears thin, a thread about to snap. “But I’m not interested.”
“Feisty, I like?—”
“Excuse me.” I cut him off, my voice sharp as a blade, and attempt to slip past him, but he reaches out and grabs ahold of my wrist.
I twist away, his grip like iron on my wrist. “Back off,” I hiss, adrenaline spiking.
“Come on, Brielle. Don’t be like that,” he slurs, breath hot and heavy. He shoves me against the wall, his body pressing close.
Panic flares, a wild thing in my chest. His hand snakes toward the hem of my soaked underwear, the only barrier left. “I said no!”
He doesn’t listen; they never do when they think they’re entitled to a taste of something sweet. My knee jerks up instinctively, aiming for a painful halt to his advances, but he’s quick for a drunk, catching my thigh mid-air.
“Feisty,” he murmurs, a smirk twisting his lips, thinking he’s got the upper hand.
“Get the fuck off me!” The words tear from my throat, raw and desperate. But he leans in, his intentions written clear across his lecherous gaze.
Then, suddenly, the weight is gone. Air rushes back into my lungs as he’s ripped away, his presence torn from me like a Band-aid from skin.
“Touch her again, and you’ll regret it,” a voice growls—a thunderstorm wrapped in human flesh.
