Page 13 of Malicious Desires

“Yes, thanks.”

“Do you like painting portraits or full bodies?” she asks, smiling at me.

I don’t know why she’s trying to engage me in a conversation, especially as there's a hint of flirtation in her voice, her gaze roaming my body.

“Ah, both I guess. We’re doing full bodies in class at the moment.”

“Maybe you’ll get to paint me some time then. I volunteer as a model.”

“Maybe,” I reply, my tone flat. I don't feel anything for her. There’s no attraction for this pretty girl. I’d have rather seen London naked and I wasn’t attracted to her either. I can’t stop thinking about Reece. For some unbeknownst reason, that dickhead is the only person my body seems to have taken a liking to lately. I don’t want to be attracted to the enemy, yet I am. I pay for my items, shoving them in my backpack–the canvas tucked under my arm–and I leave, running back to my dorm to shower in the hope of washing away the sin tarnishing me from kissing Reece. I know it’s essentially a sin, except it doesn’t feel like a sin with him. I’m going to hell. My sins will send me under.

Chapter 9

Reece

Having snuck around the Valley View campus a few times now I’ve worked out exactly where Jasper’s room is, which window is his. It’s dark now–past eight–so he’ll be back from supper and hopefully in his dorm room.

Picking up a few rocks from the ground I pelt them at the window. It’s drawing attention to myself but no one is around.

After having thrown three smaller rocks without a response I edge closer to the window, and bang on it with my palm, speaking in a low voice, “Jasper.”

It seems like a lifetime when he finally slides the window open and glares at me annoyed.

“What’re you doing here, Reece?” he questions, his tone snarky.

“Coming to see you. What else would I be doing?”

“Did anyone see you?”

“So what if they did,” I remark, smirking at him.

“I care, Reece. People can’t see us together.”

I laugh at his stupidity, gripping his hands on the window sill.

“Well, then let me in, Jasp.”

“Why would I let you into my room again?” he observes, raising his eyebrow.

“Because you want me.”

“Do not. I hate you.”

“So you keep saying, but you haven’t exactly pushed me away, Jasp.” He scoffs and steps back from the window. I slip–losing my footing a moment–before I hoist myself up on the window ledge to crawl inside his room. His bed is there so I land on it–on my arse–with a thud. He’s standing beside the bed, arms folded over his chest.

“I don’t want you here, Reece.”

I stand, climbing off his bed and shoving him against the wardrobe. “Tell me to go then, Jasper.”

He gasps then, a whimper escaping his lips when I grip the front of his t-shirt, tugging him closer.

“I hate you,” he hisses at me, licking his lips, his tongue swiping across the deep bow of his lips.

“Mmm, I hate you too, Jasp,” I say before crashing my lips to his for a hard kiss. He moans into the kiss, and I pull back. “You can’t deny you love kissing me, Jasp.”

“I don’t. I could be kissing anyone and I’d react the same way,” he protests, his cheeks colouring with a blush that contradicts his words. He loves kissing me, and only me. Reaching down between us, I grip his hardening cock. “Maybe so, but I’m the only one who causes your cock to harden.”

He shakes his head, moaning as I begin stroking his cock over the front of his pyjama pants.

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