Page 62 of Dirty Ink

“Get off me,” I mumbled.

“Rachel—"

“Get off me,” I screamed.

Mason pulled back. “Rach—"

“I have to go,” I muttered in a sort of state of shock as I climbed out of the bed and ran from the room, Mason’s come dribbling down my thigh.

I didn’t care if I lost. In fact, I wanted to lose. I wanted to get as far away from there as I could.

I didn’t want to play games anymore.

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