Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Understood,” I whisper, even though I don’t understand anything. Where is this coming from? Why is he doing this?
“No,” he whispers, his face close to mine again. Almost close enough to kiss, but that has to be the last thing on his mind. “I don’t think you get it. I don’t think you’re the kind of person who learns a lesson easily. Or else you would have taken the fucking hint and left me alone after yesterday. Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“I will from now on. I swear.”
“Maybe I have to make sure you will. Is that it? Do I have to scare you enough that you won’t look at me anymore?” The hand around my wrists tightens hard enough that I would swear my bones are grinding together.
“Let go of me.”
“Not until you learn your lesson.” It’s like he’s possessed. Like he can’t even hear me. He has only one thing on his mind, and nobody will distract him from that.
I almost sigh in relief when he lets go of my hip—only to stiffen again when he tries to slide his fingers between my closed thighs. The panic in my head turns to full-blown horror. “Stop it.” I hold them closed as tight as I can, though, it doesn’t matter. He works his way between them before pressing the heel of his hand against my covered pussy.
“What?” he asks when I gasp. “I’m not hurting you, am I? I can’t be. I’m hardly touching you.”
“I want this to stop.”
“Do you?” He brushes his chest against mine, and I can’t believe it when my nipples harden. What’s he trying to do to me? Does he even know he’s doing it? Can he feel them?
I think he can. The strip of light coming from under the door is enough to show me the outline of his face now that my eyes have adjusted, and he’s smiling. “Your body’s telling another story. Isn’t it funny how that happens? Your brain can tell you one thing, but your body will always betray you. It has a mind of its own.”
The pressure from his hand increases, and now he’s rubbing a little. And he’s right. I hate him for being right and for the way he’s starting to make me wet. I don’t want this to happen, but my body has a mind of its own, like he said.
He chuckles, and it’s a nasty, knowing sound. “That’s right. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, and I know this doesn’t hurt. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Liar.” He comes so close to touching his lips to my throat. The feeling of his breath blowing over my skin makes me shiver while it makes him laugh softly. “Told you so. I could make you come here in this closet if I wanted to. I wouldn’t even have to try.”
I grit my teeth and shake my head. “No. No, you couldn’t.”
“Is that a dare?”
“No.” I turn my face away and squeeze my eyes shut. Why won’t he stop? Why won’t anybody stop this? Where did his friend go? The bell’s going to ring soon. Why won’t it ring?
“I want you to remember this.” He finally pulls his hand from between my legs so he can use it to turn my face toward his, jerking hard so I can’t fight back. “The next time you decide to be where you don’t belong, listening to shit that doesn’t concern you, I want you to remember how easy it was for me to get you alone and do any damn thing I want to you.”
He leans so close that our lips almost touch. “And I want you to remember how much you loved it.” With that, he shoves me one last time, making the back of my head tap the metal shelf hard enough to sting.
That’s what it takes. The haze of confusion that’s kept me frozen in place breaks in time for me to get in one last thing. “Lots of people go through things that hurt them. But that isn’t an excuse to hurt other people because of it.”
He grunts, backing toward the door. “And you think that’s why I did this?”
“I do. I know it is.”
“Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought. If you know what’s good for you, you should keep it that way.” He opens the door and strides out into the hall without glancing at me or saying another word.
A second later, the bell screeches, and voices fill the hall outside the closet.
But I haven’t moved. I can’t move. He’s nowhere near me, yet I’m still frozen in fear. Not of him—I don’t believe he’d ever hurt me—but of whatever makes him this way. It has to be something awful and something he’s deeply ashamed of. Why else would he go to all the trouble to scare me?