Page 22 of Vengeful Sins

And me? All I knew was I wanted it to never end. I wanted to live there, on top of her, with her arms and legs around me. I wanted to stay there forever.

My dick thickens at the memory of what it felt like inside her, as I took her inch by inch. She gripped me so tight—I can almost feel it now, the pressure around me like a tight glove. Warm andwet. Like sliding into silk and letting it squeeze me. I need to stop thinking about it now, right this very second, or else I might end up wrecking the truck. The memory is that vivid.

There are other memories I need to keep in mind. The feeling of cold, bitter shock slamming into me. Being totally sure I must’ve been hearing her wrong. Why would she threaten to tell everybody I raped her when I didn’t? She had been sober. She never said no—actually, she was the one who targeted me and wouldn’t leave me alone once she showed up and found me at the party.

Why would she tell a lie like that?

All I ever did was like her.

I’ve got to do something with the boiling hatred threatening to shred me to pieces. I’m going to explode. I’m going to burn down everything around me. I need to find something to do with all of it.

That’s why I have to go straight to the gym at home as soon as I arrive, jogging down to the basement and flipping on the lights to reveal a room full of high-end equipment. I don’t even bother going to my room to get changed, choosing to strip off my shirt before turning on loud, pumping music and cranking the volume up as far as it will go. By the time I turn to the heavy bag, the floor is vibrating; the beat pulsing through me from my feet to the top of my head. Finally, I’m connecting to something, like plugging myself in and letting the current flow through my body.

Current which forces me to lash out and punch the heavy bag as hard as possible. My right arm shoots out, my left, delivering a series of sharp jabs. The contact reverberates up to my shoulders, and I like it. I welcome it. I deserve it for being a weak piece of shit who can’t get a grip on myself when it comes to the biggest mistake I ever made. Trusting. Wanting. Hoping.

Each blow against the bag makes my fists ache worse until the ache turns into pain. Yes, more, more. I have to keep going.I must. There has to be a way to clear my mind of everything. The memories, the hurt, the betrayal. The fear that she would go through with what she threatened.

The sweat already starting to roll down my face and back intensifies, dripping onto the floor the harder I work to punish myself. Maybe I can finally get rid of all of it if only I could punch my way through this fucking bag.

Maybe I can keep myself from getting sucked into the abyss again.

“Maya!When are we gonna see you inPlayboy?”

My head snaps up at the mention of her name and the snide laughter that follows. I was walking from the parking lot with my head down, my sore fists jammed in my pockets after the punishment I gave them yesterday. Now I scan the area, seeking her out. There goes all my hard work, trying to get her out of my system. I’m just as eager to get a look at her as ever.

And as always, my insides go hot when I find her. Like the sight of her strawberry blonde curls turns the knob on my internal thermostat up to the highest setting, leaving me boiling. I know the smart thing to do. What I should do if I don’t want to end up hating myself—and her—more than ever.

Instead of minding my business and going straight to class, like I was about to do, I change course and follow the pair of guys now trailing behind Maya. I’ve got to give her a little bit of credit, at least. She walks with her head high, like she doesn’t hear them. Like nothing can touch her. That attitude pisses me off, maybe more than anything else, when I’m the one she’s ignoring but makes me respect her a little bit now.

Just a little bit. Not enough to change my opinion of her or anything like that.

“I wanna see those titties in person. Shove my face between them.” One of the assholes between me and Maya elbows the other, laughing like he just made the funniest joke imaginable. Like there’s anything original in what he said.

“You could make some real money on Only Fans,” the other one suggests, which stirs laughter from a group of kids hanging out on the lawn. Now there are people paying attention, listening and whistling in appreciation. The warm, sunny day suddenly feels darker. Colder.

Not me, though. I’m hotter than ever inside, burning up, ready to boil over. “If you can’t get a real pair of tits to play with, that sounds like a personal problem,” I call out to the guys in front of me, both of whom look behind them in confusion.

“And you sound like you know a lot about Only Fans,” I add, coming to a stop when they do. “How much money do you spend on there every month? I bet you go to strip clubs and think the dancers actually like you.”

Now there’s fresh laughter, only this time it’s at their expense. A glance over their shoulders tells me Maya took advantage of the situation and kept walking. She’s gone by the time the losers who were taunting her skulk off with their heads hanging. Assholes. They’re lucky I took so much aggression out on that heavy bag yesterday.

“Hey.” I hear her call out to me from outside the liberal arts building, where she lingers in a partially secluded nook put in place for smokers. Most of the students don’t smoke nowadays—or if they do, they vape rather than using cigarettes—so the area is empty except for Maya. She’s sitting on a bench beside an ashtray, her hands clasped between her knees. Funny how I never used to think much about the way she always wears pantsor long skirts. Now, knowing what I know, it’s obvious she’s been hiding something all along.

Hiding herself, too, trying to keep from being taunted before class. “Do you plan on running in right before class starts?” I ask, eyeing the area to make sure nobody’s paying attention.

“What if I do?” she counters before softening, blowing out a sigh. “I just wanted to thank you for distracting those pricks back there. It meant a lot.”

Red flags wave like crazy in my head. This can’t happen. I can’t have her feeling indebted to me. “Yeah, well, don’t read into it,” I tell her with a smirk. “I already told Tiana to leave you the fuck alone, because if anybody’s going to fuck with you, it’s going to be me. I still believe that, though I don’t have to explain myself to random assholes like those guys back there.”

Watching her face fall is a real treat. The ache in my knuckles doesn’t feel half as strong as it did a minute ago. Like her disappointment is a balm.

“Oh,” she whispers, brows drawing together. “Message received.”

“Whatever.” I sigh, scoffing, before walking away. I don’t feel like having people see us talking and reading more into it than there is. They wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain, which I’ll never do.

Fuck. I can’t understand it myself. The way I need to hate her.

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