Page 87 of Distorted Obsession

My dick jumps at the reminder of my first few weeks here. I thought she was going to be my goddess, but instead, I screwed up. After my apology, I thought we turned the corner, but she’s even more skittish around me than she was the last time I saw her. Come to think of it, she’s more skittish than I remember her ever being. At least since I’ve known her. Which I acknowledge isn’t actually a long enough time to determine causality.

“We’re going to have to fix that, Lee. We can’t get revenge if she hates you,” he announces, stating the obvious.

Playing with the wayward string of my wave cap, I reply, “Duh, Captain Obvious. But getting her to stop long enough even to say hello is a feat in and of itself.”

An acrid taste coats my tongue.

35

eva

I standunder the ice-cold spray of the shower, hoping it will cool my fevered skin. It’s been two god-awful weeks without so much as a brush against my nipple, and I’m so sexually frustrated that I may fight someone soon if I don’t find relief.

The pulsed stream of water hits my nipples at the perfect spot, and I moan at the feel. My aching peaks stand angry from being ignored for so long. Flashbacks of my night at Coop and Colt’s house are enough to make my pussy jump in protest. I signed the goddamn contract. Why have I spent weeks without one simple orgasm? They’ve teased me into a frenzy, and if I don’t come soon, I may get physically violent.

“Eva, get your delectable ass out of that shower, or we’re going to be late,” Cammy shouts.

I nearly jump out of my skin, and she has the audacity to cackle at my shrill cry. “You bitch,” I squawk, trying to preserve a shred of my dignity, but it’s too late. “You couldn’t wait five more minutes?”

“Listen, I could’ve if this weren’t your eighteenth five-hour shower in the last two weeks,” she rebuts.

Groaning, I shut off the faucet, reach out to grab my towel, and wrap it around me before stepping out of the shower. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks,” I lament, striding past her into my bedroom only to find the rest of the girls sprawled on various furniture around the room. “Oh, so we’re camping out in my room tonight, I see.”

Jade, with her cheesy smile, pops up from my plush, giant bean bag chair. “It’s Friday night, and we have no games. We are going out.”

“We are?” I question, turning to my closet to grab my Sailor Moon onesie.

“Yup, the Sigmas are having a party, and we’re all going,” Jade states in a tone that generally leaves very little room for argument. But the Jacobis’ commandments are all thou shalt not, and if I do, I’ll be smitten, as laid out in Jacobidus 33:18-30.

Arching a brow, I turn to where she’s bouncing on her tiptoes in unrestrained excitement. “When didwedecide this,” I ask.

She momentarily deflates. “Aww, c’mon, Evie. You’ve been hiding away in your room for too long.”

“It’s barely been two full weeks, and I see you hos more than I see myself these days,” I argue.

Paisley sits up, crossing her arms. “What college student stays in their dorm on a perfectly good Friday night?”

Plopping down on the bed next to her, I grab my cocoa butter, lavender, and vitamin E oil blend and begin to massage it into my aching limbs. This week has been grueling at practice, and the lack of sexual release only makes it that much worse. Everything just feels tight. “This college student,” I sigh, moaning when I hit a knot in my calf muscle. “All I want to do is wrap up in my blanket, eat my weight in pink Starburst, read my damn dark romance book, and shut out the world.”

“And you can do that after this party, Eva,” Cammy whines. “They brought in an actually good soundman—one who knows Dancehall, Soca, and Calypso.”

My ears perk, and my hands freeze at that information. It’s not that Texas doesn’t have dancehall music—it’s Groveton, Texas, that doesn’t have any good mashups at any of their parties. At least not like they have back home.

The idea of shaking my ass and dancing my stress away is enough to tempt fate. The football team isn’t supposed to be around this weekend, so it’s not like the twins would ever know.

“Okay, I’m in,” I announce as I sprint to my closet. I need to get dressed and out of here before I chicken out.

“Yasss! There’s our girl,” Jade shouts, slapping me on my ass once I slip on my fuck-me-red mini body-con dress. “I finally get to see that waistline I always hear about.”

She sure will. I’m about to grind and drop it on someone tonight. Fuck the rules and the consequences. A whisper in the back of my mind cautions me to follow the twins’ rules, but it can fuck off too. It’s time to unwind and with any luck get fucked.

“Damn, Evie. Tip pon yuh toe and drop, mek sure yuh don’t stop.” I hear Cammy shout as she whines down to the floor while “Fiesta” by Armanii & DJ Mac blares through the speakers.

My body is covered in sweat. I haven’t stopped dancing since my feet touched the dance floor. Song after song is a banger, and I use it as a means to escape. I’ll never miss a party if this is how the Sigmas get down.

Flinging my head back, I work my way up to standing. My mouth is so dry. “I need water,” I whisper-shout in Paisley’s ear. “I’ll be back.” Then I twirl away, making my way to the bar.

Pushing through the sea of bodies, I finally reach the bar. I turn to look over the crowd. I didn’t realize how packed it is in here.

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