Once in the stairwell, she felt the cool click of metal around her wrist. She realized that one of the men had handcuffed her to the stairs by the railing. Then the man covering her mouth took his hand off and she screamed bloody murder. “Help me! Help! Someone help me! They’re going to kill me!”
“We’re not going to kill you, Melanie,” said a familiar voice. “But you can go ahead and scream. This stairwell is all concrete blocks and no windows. No one can hear you. No one else is even in the library.”
That’s when one of her attackers stepped out from the shadows and she saw his face. She blinked several times. It was him. Clayton Thomas. Her ex-boyfriend. The one she broke up with over the summer. She’d agreed to go out with him in the first place because the tall and handsome African American was the only guy in her Political Science class who knew the answer to every damned question. He’d totally blown the bell curve.
He was also the only guy in the whole school she really lusted for, not that he’d been up to the challenge when she’d given him the opportunity. How was it that he was the smartest guy in the class, but never seemed to figure out that Melanie liked it rough?
Well, he seemed to have figured it out now…
“We’re not going to hurt you, Mel,” Clayton said. “At least, we’re not going to hurt you the way you think.” To prove it, he nodded to the his friend—the guy who had twisted her arm behind her back. That guy released her arm and started to rub the pain away. Clayton took her abused wrist from his friend, and clicked another cuff around it, handcuffing that to the railing too.
“We just want to fuck you,” the other guy said.
Melanie knew his voice too. Recognized it instantly. It was Brad Avery, the captain of the basketball team. Tall, thin, and really shy. She’d dated him freshman year. By the time he mustered up the gumption to do more than feel her up, Melanie had already decided not to waste her time. Was it even possible that such a normally sweet guy had just whispered in her ear that he wanted to fuck her?
She wasn’t sure what any of this was about, but there was a part of her that hoped they were for real.
“You broke my heart, girl,” Clayton said, with a sigh.
She’d broken Clayton’s heart? That was news to her.
She was so stunned she had nothing to say.
He continued, “One minute, you couldn’t get enough of my black ass, and the next, you kicked me to the curb. But at least I got a taste of you. Brad tells me you wouldn’t give it up to him; that you were a cock-tease. Well, ever hear of Revenge Sex, Mel? This is it.”