Page 71 of Sinful Desires

I snorted at that. I might have been new, but I wasn’t stupid. There were enough stories floating around campus about Foster Henderson and how he’s physically harmed females for touching him. Yet for some reason, girls still wanted to bang the dude.

Foster reappeared moments later and snatched a T-shirt off the back of his computer chair where he slipped it on—much to my dismay.

“Have fun you two.” Collin winked from beside the door before leaving us alone.

Exhaustion clung to me, reminding me of the strenuous workout I’d just been subjected to. Not caring that Foster’s gaze was burning a hole into me, I crossed the room in a few long strides and made myself comfortable on the large bed, reveling in the way the mattress shifted to fit the curves of my body.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, an edge to his tone that indicated he didn’t want me on his bed one bit. But he was out of luck. I wasn’t sleeping on the bathroom floor again.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I retorted. “You can thank Collin for me being so tired. I usually nap after practice. Is that a problem?”

He narrowed his eyes, and I watched his jaw tick for a few moments before he finally shook his head. Leaning against the massive headboard, I pulled my arms through the holes in my shirt, not caring if he was watching, and unclasped my bra before tossing it on the floor beside me.

I watched with interest as his gaze dropped to my tits, surprising me in the process. No hate to anyone, but I was starting to think that Foster might have played for the other team with how much he hated females. I mean, it made sense.

Deciding that this was the perfect opportunity to play with him, a smirk captured my face. “My eyes are up here, asshole,” I remarked, amusement laced in my tone.

When his gaze snapped up to meet mine, I was taken aback by the dilation of his pupils. Had he actually been checking me out? Maybe there was a horny teenage boy under that hostile, degrading, exterior of his after all.

“Don’t be nervous,” I said in a breathy tone. My hand traveled up my stomach to grip one of my breasts, his eyes tracking the movement. Releasing the body part, it jiggled, begging for attention. “If you want to see them, just ask.”

I wasn’t serious by any means and wasn’t at all surprised when he snatched his hoodie and stormed out of the room. I suppose that could have gone worse. A laugh left me as I burrowed my way beneath the comforter.

If they were going to hold me hostage and treat me like an animal, then I was going to have some fun of my own too.

Chapter 22

Foster

My thoughts were a jumbled mess. Never in my life had I slept in the same room as a female I hadn’t been related to. Maybe this was payback. I’d suggested that she room with us after all. Sleep didn’t come easily last night with my mind in overdrive.

By the time I made it back to my room last night, Aspen had been sound asleep. I didn’t see her in the cafeteria at dinner, so it was safe to assume she’d slept the rest of the day away. She was curled into a ball with my comforter pulled between her legs and her arms wrapped around the fabric, holding it to her chest. Her hair brushed against her exposed shoulders, bringing attention to a single freckle on the back of her shoulder. Her breaths had come in soft, shallow pants and I wondered if she had nightmares too. I’d wedged a pillow between the two of us, so we didn’t accidentally touch through the night. That last thing I needed was to have a panic attack while being half-conscious.

Nightmares plagued me as they did most nights, but Aspen didn’t even stir. Which told me that I’d either done a good job of being quiet during them, or that she was a heavy sleeper. I dreamt of dainty, greedy hands as they grabbed for me. Of my father and the bitch he had suck him off in front of me. Bernice. She’d been about ten years younger than my mom give or take. The heat in her eyes as she crawled toward me was imprinted into my mind. Any time I closed my eyes, that’s what I saw. I didn’t have these nightmares as frequently as I used to, but I did quite often.

Aspen shifted in her sleep, pulling me back to the present. Her forehead creased and she shook her head as she mumbled something incoherently. I liked her better like this. Silent. Out of it. When I came back and saw her in bed, I was surprised that she didn’t run. She had the opportunity. Maybe we were making progress.

Throwing the comforter off me I stood. My hair was damp from sweat and a shower was calling my name. I didn’t bother grabbing any clothes as I slipped into the bathroom and started the water. Stripping down, I stepped into the tub and let the hot liquid run over me.

Childhood flashbacks attacked my mind as I closed my eyes beneath the water. My mother strung out and asleep as Mike fucked some random check next to her unconscious body while I was once again forced to watch at a young age. Let’s not forget the time he actually had someone suck my dick. A shudder rolled through me, and bile rose to the back of my throat. Even after all this time, these memories still haunted me.

After that, I was determined to get the hell out of the shower, so I washed up as quickly as possible and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around my waist. The cool air attacked my skin, but it was the least of my worries as I moved back into my bedroom.

I paused in the doorway upon seeing Aspen sitting upright against the headboard. Her hair was a mess, but it didn’t make her look worse. Personally, I preferred it when girls didn’t try so hard on their appearances. Her eyes widened as they darted over to me, and she didn’t even pretend that she wasn’t checking me out. Her gaze roamed over my mostly naked body, pupils dilating as it went straight to my dick, making it twitch. My heart thudded against my chest as I quickly turned toward my closet and grabbed some clothes, retreating into the bathroom to get some space.

Getting dressed and brushing my hair, I returned to my bedroom.

“You came back,” she acknowledged in a raspy voice as she took note of the pillow that had acted as a wall between us.

I nodded. “You didn’t run.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Running wasn’t an option. You would have just grabbed me again and then punished me for it.”

A smirk captured my lips. At least she weighed her options. “Smart,” I replied, striding toward her bedside with intention.

My gaze snagged on the black bra lying on the floor and I kneeled, hooking my finger beneath the strap before straightening my posture again and holding it out to her.

She watched me with a mix of confusion and fascination. “I could have picked it up,” she offered warily before taking it from me.

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