Page 6 of Sinful Touch

She holds tightly onto her backpack as she pulls her hood over her head.

I push off of the corner and run across the street. She walks into the shadows and decides to take the long way back. It would make me feel better if she would take a cab, but I have a feeling my girl will do anything to have time by herself in the shadows, yet another thing we have in common that she has no idea about.

I stop at my bike and grab the helmet. I pull it over my head and swing my leg over. Getting my balance, I turn on my bike and take off, turning onto the quiet street.

I take a right down a side road. It will give me the perfect view of her from afar, just in case she needs me.

I will never let anyone touch what is mine, and she is mine.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

5

Liliana

“I Hate U, I Love U” by SIo, Twilight, Tazzy

When the bell rings, I lean over, grab my bag from the ground, and quickly place my books and notebooks inside. I stand up and watch as the other students exit quickly.

They all have something to do, but the only thing I am going to do is go back to my dorm and read. That is my life, or at least it has been for the past few weeks. I stay to myself, and the other students stay to themselves and their friends.

Yeah, it does feel like high school all over again.

I take in a deep breath as I make my way to the steps and turn to start going up them. But before I can, I feel a hand grab my arm, pulling my attention away from the exit. I turn and lock eyes with Jax. His beautiful green eyes—my gosh, I am in trouble.

“Can I speak with you for a moment, Lil?” Jax asks softly, but also in a demanding kind of way. He is confusing and draws me in like a moth to a flame.

I nod like an idiot. He releases my arm and turns to make his way down the steps towards his stand and a young man standing next to it. He is wearing a football jersey. His dark hair is long on top and short on the sides, and I can see his neck tattoos from here.

I follow behind Jax, and we both stop in front of the male student. The class was interesting today. Jax gave us some pointers on the build-up of writing the sex scenes. I had so many questions, but I didn’t ask. I guess I was too embarrassed. Everyone else in the class seemed to be able to follow what he was saying so easily.

It once again just shows that I have never been touched or experienced what I have written in my notebook. I might not have the experience, but that doesn’t mean I don't know what it feels like to feel pleasure. It might only be inside my mind, but for now, that will have to do.

I look over at Jax. He is quiet, more quiet than he normally is. He seems a little on edge, and I want to ask him why, but that is none of my business.

If only he knew what I was writing about inside my notebook, he would probably just laugh at me, or he would actually give in and honestly think that him giving in to me and my desires scares me more.

“Lil, this is Chad,” Jax says calmly, taking me away from my impending thoughts.

“Hey,” I say with a small smile, the thoughts slowly fading from my mind. I focus on the student in front of me. I can tell by his body language that he doesn’t want to be here or talk to me, but who would say no to Jax?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, his eyes scan me; all men seem to be the same. He is looking over me; I can tell what is on his mind, though; he is trying to figure out if he is interested in me. They never are, though; even if he was, I am not interested. This guy is not my type, even though I know he is everyone else’s type; it is written all over his face; he is cocky and good-looking, the football star. Who wouldn’t want to be on his arm?

This girl right here, I have too much baggage, and no one wants someone who is complicated with low self-esteem and self-worth.

“Chad needs some help on his term paper. Do you think you can tutor him for me?” Jax asks softly.

Damn it, I can’t say no.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” I respond quickly.

“Chad, you know this paper is half of your overall grade. If you don’t do it, you won’t pass my class, which means you won’t play,” Jax warns him.

“I get it, Mr. Fox,” The student says in an annoyed voice.

I turn and look at Jax, but he doesn’t say anything to correct Chad, calling him Mr. Fox. Odd.

“You may go, Chad,” Jax dismisses him.

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