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I open my phone and find the image; everyone’s posting it online and texting it to me. I show him the photo, tears in my eyes.
“Why?” I murmur. “Why…”
His eyebrows furrow, and he takes my phone. I collapse onto his messy floor, unable to keep myself up.
“I told you I’d find out what happened in San Jose, Taylor.”
“Did you have to? Did you have to send it to everyone? Why? Why do you hate me?” I say, exasperated still from my drunken walk. “You’d—you’d rather spend your night trying to humiliate me instead of going to a party hosted for your team?”
“It’s not that simple, Taylor,” he yells.
“Then make it simple, Elijah, tell me. What did I do to deserve this?”
“I can think of a lot of things, starting with, oh, I don’t know, cheating on someone.”
“You don’t even know the story. Maybe just admit you don’t like seeing me with someone else, that you’re jealous, or, or, I don’t know, being fucking possessive.”
He crawls down to the floor until he’s face-to-face with me. “Maybe I’m possessive, but at least I’m not a little slut.” He grabs a section of my hair and inhales it. “And wasted.”
I pull my hair back from his hands and look him in the eyes. “You think blowing up my life is a good comeback for me wearing the wrong jersey? I don’t even know who you are anymore.” I fight back the tears, knowing my cheeks are already red and stained.
He grabs my hand roughly in his and pulls me closer, until I can smell the scent of his cologne. I tremble beneath his strength, hating how my body reacts to his touch. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as my tears flow, his eyes wandering my face.
“Are you still the girl I lost my virginity to?” he whispers, caressing my cheek. “The sweet girl who moaned beneath me, who told me she loved me?”
“I’m that girl,” I whimper.
“Say you’re my girl,” he growls.
I meet his gaze, confused by what game he’s playing.
“Say it,” he says, pulling me onto his lap. I squirm underneath his strong arms that wrap around me.
“I’m—I’m your girl,” I whisper breathlessly as my pussy starts to throb.
“Again,” he moans, moving his hand across my waist. I’m too drunk to protest or to make any sense of what’s going on. I feel the length of him growing underneath me, poking me from behind.
“I’m your girl, Elijah,” I whisper again, looking up at his dark eyes.
“Leave,” he orders, unwrapping his arms and shoving me off his lap. “Get out of my room.”
I use his desk to get myself upright, already feeling the alcohol ravish through my system like a hungry parasite. An uncomfortable wetness fills my underwear.
I reach for the knob and close the door behind me. It takes what feels like forever to get to my room down the other end of the hall and into bed.
11
ELIJAH HAYES
Idon’t regret what I did last night, what I made Taylor say. I don’t even care if she’s the most annoying woman I’ve ever met. I’ve decided that she’ll be mine again. But despite the part of me that is attracted to her, there is a bigger part of me that hates her. I hate the way her ass felt against my hard dick, the way her tear-stained cheeks made her hazel eyes look big and innocent. And I especially hated the way she whimpered my name… her voice sultry, soft, sexy, enough to make a man fall to his knees and beg for just one more word. But I’m not that man. I don’t beg for pussy.
I lace up my running shoes and grab my earbuds. It’s nothing a run around the neighborhood can’t solve. When I step out into the hallway, I can hear music from Taylor’s room and put my ear up to her door, hearing her singing along. She hums to the melody, and sings the chorus. Slowly, I ease the door open, some sick part of me wants to watch her without her knowing. I fantasize being able to see what she does when she thinks nobody is watching.
Taylor lies with her backside facing the door, her head on her pillow. She wears a lacy bodysuit with a thin strip of fabric that goes right up her ass. She kicks her foot to the rhythm of the song as she scrolls through her phone.
Her fucking snake slithers around the floor and rubs its slimy body across the carpet. The snake notices me before she does, creeping up to me slightly, testing me, testing who’s the alpha. It inches itself towards me, towards the cracked door. Maybe I should just let it escape and die somewhere.
The song stops and Taylor flips to her back. I hold my breath, thinking I have been caught. Her silky hair caresses her tits that are barely covered by red lace. I can practically feel the drool spill out of my mouth. There’s nothing I want more than to splay her on the bed, spread her legs and eat her out until she’s begging for my dick. I want to rip the small pieces of fabric covering her body and tear them into a million pieces. I want to tell her how she is so goddamn annoying, how she’s a bloodsucking demon—
