Page 36 of The Wallflower

"It’s been a pleasure, as always, but unlike you, I have to attend my classes."

I whirl around, ready to make a mad dash for the door. Unfortunately, I’m not fast enough, and honestly, I should know better, given my history with this man who snatches me by the wrist and pulls me back toward him.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

I blink, and we’re moving, his unforgiving grasp keeping me hot on his heels. I peer around the library, waiting for someone to say something or even notice that I'm being dragged away, but of course no one does. Panic claws at my insides, and I know I have to do something to stop this psycho. He has money, power, and intimidation. I understand their fear of him. I'm sort of scared of him myself, but I’m more terrified of what might happen if I give in.

I dig my heels in. It’s my only attempt at stopping his advancement, but all it does is earn me a snarl of disapproval, along with a tightening of his grasp. He’s over six feet tall, muscular, and intimidating as hell. Stopping him would require some expertise, which I clearly don’t have. The next best thing I have is my voice.

“Let go of me!” I yell and attempt to pull away again, but I might as well be talking to a wall. “Fine, then. I’ll scream.” The words have barely escaped my lips when he stops dead in his tracks. The movement is so sudden that I crash directly into him, almost tripping over my feet.

The firm wall of muscle shifts as he turns, looking every bit the scary monster he is. Before I can utter another word, his hand slaps over my mouth, and he shoves me backward, my lower back pressing against a dust-covered shelf. One wearyglance around, and I realize we’re in the stacks. The old part of the library where no one goes. This is bad. Worse than I thought.

Boxing me in with his body, he makes certain the only thing I can see and feel is him. I’m at his complete mercy. With one hand pressed against my mouth to stop me from calling out for help and his other arm snaked around my middle, holding me against him, I’m trapped.Doomed.Yet even with the fear trickling in my veins, this rush of excitement is building. It’s sickening and wrong that I even recognize it. With my current predicament, I can’t be bothered to think about how fucked up that makes me.

Not with his huge hand moving over my lower back, the searing heat of his touch burning through the fabric of my clothes. I might as well be naked at this point. Is it embarrassing that at my age, a man has never touched me like this before, with so much possession and desire? Maybe that’s why I’m so excited by it. My heart clenches tightly in my chest, building the anticipation of what might happen next.

It doesn’t really matter. No words will make him stop. It’s clear he’s not letting me go. Not until he gets whatever it is he wants. His green eyes bleed into mine, and I notice the thick lashes framing his devilish face. This close, it’s hard to see the evil beast inside him and far easier to see him as the all-American boy he portrays to everyone else. Kind, charming. No one knows there’s a complete psycho hiding in plain sight. Slivers of light cast an eerie shadow over us, and I shiver as if someone’s dumped an entire bucket of cold water on me, but is it from fear or anticipation? I don’t know. The light dances across his face, doing devastating things to his high cheekbones and razor-sharp jawline.

I suck a ragged breath into my lungs and am greeted with the intoxicating scent of teakwood and mint. This strangecalmness blankets me. His smell shouldn’t calm or affect me, but somehow, it does, luring me into this odd sense of safety.

Leaning into me, he gently presses his nose into the crook of my neck. The rapid inhale of air into his lungs makes me think he’s breathing my scent into his lungs, which would be weird if it also wasn’t kinda attractive. I push the thought to the back of my mind because this man and his psychopathic tendencies are the last things I need in my life.

An entire cage of butterflies takes flight in my stomach as his nose skims over the sensitive flesh of my throat. His full lips glide over my thundering pulse, and there’s no hiding my fear or excitement. Not with the way my heart is trying to beat out of my body. Stupidly, I do nothing to try to escape his grasp, not even when he presses his hips firmer against mine, forcing me to feel his hard cock throbbing against my jeans. I can’t believe I let him fuck me with that giant-ass sword.

Goose bumps erupt across my skin, feeling his hot tongue against my cool flesh. Shit. I need to stop this, somehow. I can’t let him pull me into his dark web, one that I may never escape. I need to use my brain and not let my body rule my decision-making. I garner up all the strength I have in me and place both hands on his firm chest, then I give him a hard push. Like an impassable mountain, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even budge. Not an inch.

A soft, humorless laugh escapes his lips. “It would be so easy for me to take what I want from you. All I’d have to do is put a little pressure against your neck, knock you out, and then I could fuck you without complaint. I wouldn’t have to worry about you running away or fighting me. I could do whatever I want, however I want, wherever I want. I could fuck your ass, mouth, and pussy. I could take whatever I want from you, and you couldn’t do a single thing to stop me.”

The thought is terrifying and so fucking wrong, and worst of all, there isn’t anything that makes me believe he wouldn’t do those things. Even I’m smart enough to know there is a time and place to be fierce and placid. It’s all about human psychology.

“Don’t,” I demand, the sound muffled by his hand. I reach for his wrist and try to tug his hand from my mouth. He doesn’t move. “Please,” I mutter, and this time, he takes a tiny step back, those piercing green eyes of his flick to mine before roaming my entire face. I don’t know what he sees shining back at him, but whatever it is, it’s enough to melt a smidge of the ice from his harsh gaze.

“I’ll save that fun for another day.” The relief I feel from his confession is short-lived when he starts speaking again. “While I love your sassiness and fierce determination to piss me off, I need you to be a good girl and listen to me. Or am I going to have to shove my cock into your throat and teach you a lesson right here in the dusty stacks?”

I sag further into the shelf and ignore the notion that I’m allowing him to hold my body weight. At least he’s not going to knock me out and have his way with me. I can handle a blow job and being chased through the woods, but I don’t want to be taken against my will without any say at all.

All I can manage is a nod.

A smile touches his lips. “Which is that a yes to? You’re going to be a good girl and listen, or you want me to shove my cock down your throat and teach you a lesson?”

I saynobeneath his hand, my lips moving over his palm. The word comes out muffled, and he slowly pulls his hand away. "I’m trusting you, so don’t make me regret it. If you start screaming like a banshee, I’ll be forced to do something I’ll very much enjoy, but you might not, especially after your experience in the woods. Don’t make me hurt you, at least for your own sake.”

“I’m not going to scream. I’m just confused. I don’t understand. What happened at the event was a one-time thing. I heard you don’t date or even sleep with the same girl twice, which makes all of this weird and confusing. What do you want from me? Why won’t you leave me alone? I’m no one, yet you act like I’m the most interesting thing in the world."

And why can’t I stop the edge of excitement this brings me? I’ll never admit it, but a tiny part enjoys the attention. The nerdy book girl no one notices who garnered the attention of Oakmount’s football star when no one else could. It makes me feel seen and wanted. When you’ve never experienced that before, it’s not something you want to give up. Yet I remind myself that not all attention is the kind you want. Turns out, I garnered the attention of a crazy person.

His pink tongue darts out over his bottom lip, and I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to acknowledge how sexy he looks.

Remember how dangerous he is, how fucked up he is. Hello, red flag, Maybel.

“Consider me curious. Are you asking around about me?”

I shake my head. “No, asking around isn’t needed. I’d have to not exist not to hear about you. Everyone talks about how you never screw the same girl twice, and you don’t date. I’m simply acknowledging the rumors.”

I notice then just how big our height differences are. My forehead barely reaches his collarbone, so I’m forced to tilt my head back every time I speak in order to see his face. I feel tiny and insignificant beside him.

“Well, rumors are just that, rumors. The thoughts of others. Plus, plans–and people–change. I can choose to start dating or sleeping with the same girl if I want to. I don’t give a fuck about what other people say about me.” His voice leads me to believe him, but the look in his eyes makes me think otherwise.

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