Ihead to the gym, my muscles tense.
I need to burn off this...whatever the fuck this is since a certain brunette with haunted hazel eyes walked into our lives fourteen fucking days ago, wearing nothing but a towel covering those delicious curves.
She was full of fire and sass, but there was a pain in her eyes, one that made my own beast sit up, sniff the air, and take notice.
My dick stirs in my black shorts, pressing against the fabric as I think about her sitting on the toilet, her glorious rosy tits out, staring at me with a look of slight fear, yet pupils blown with lust.
The fucked up asshole that I am, it’s that edge of fear that really makes me hard. Imagining my big hands wrapped around her throat, and squeezing as I pound hard and fast into her tight cunt…
Fuck!
I start walking faster, I'm practically jogging at this point. I desperately need the release that only working out can give me. Nothing else comes close to the freedom I feel when I’m pushing myself to get bigger, to become stronger. It's an addictive pain; building bulk, tearing muscles. Getting bigger hurts like a motherfucker sometimes, but I need to be strong. Powerful. Able to defend those that I love.
Reaching the locker room, I scan my ID card across the keypad on the door to gain access, and then step through to be engulfed with the sweet smell of sweat and hard fucking work.
A relieved sigh escapes my lips as I breathe it in, comfort washing over me and relaxing me like nothing else. Excited anticipation pulses through me as I reach my locker, using my card again to open it.
A box of unused hypodermic needle syringes fall out, scattering across the floor with a clatter, some landing a few lockers away.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath, bending down and picking up the ones at my feet. Turning to reach for the few that landed a couple of feet away, I see a muscled hand, not anywhere near as big as mine, grab them and hold them out to me.
“You dropped these, bro,” he says, a slight tremor in his hand.Pussy. Kyle? Karl? Some shit like that, I think.“How’s it going?” he asks, trying to catch my eye.
“Yeah, good, I guess,” I grunt, looking at him, not really wanting to talk.
“Hey, can you hook me up with some more juice? Your dad gets us the best shit,” he replies, a touch of envy in his voice as he hands me the packet of hypos. His eyes are wide and hopeful, with a touch of hero worshipping.Fucking pathetic.
“Sure,” I mumble, facing my locker, clenching my fist and almost breaking the needles as thoughts of the cumstain who calls himself my father flashes across my vision. He’s such a cuntish waste of oxygen.
I stuff the syringes back into the box, placing them into my locker. Taking my earbuds out of their case, I pop them in, discouraging further conversation.
Exiting the locker room, leaving him standing there like a fucking douche, I hit play on my phone, andScared of the Darkby Lil Wayne and Ty Dolla $ign comes on. The lyrics flow over me as I wrap my hands and walk over to the punching bags, laying into one and making it swing violently. The dull thud of my fists hitting the bag sounds to the beat of the song.
I’m not fucking weak, and I’m not scared. Not anymore.
* * *
LILLY
I emerge from the library on Friday night, bleary-eyed from all of the reading that we’re expected to do, and the tough first two weeks we've just had.
They don’t fuck round here, do they?I think wearily as I make my way down the dark corridor towards my dorm. A shadow steps in front of me, and I freak the fuck out, jumping about six feet in the air and screaming like...well, like a girl.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a cross!” I shout as the light hits his face, and I recognise him as one of the guys that hangs out with the Save the Whale Crew. He's even got on a blue stone washed t-shirt with ‘Keep the Beaches Clean’ written on it. I must admit, the surfer vibe does suit his dark blonde hair, which is longer on top reaching to just above his ears. But there’s a coldness in his blue gaze that leaves me feeling the need to run, and run far away.
“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, reaching out to steady me with his hand. I take a step back, but feel his sweaty palm through my top as it alights on my arm.Eww, back off, perv.
“No worries…” I trail off. I can’t for the life of me remember his name.
“Robert,” he prompts with a charming smile. Although it seems a little off, like the smile Hook gives Peter Pan before he tries to stab him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would stab that brat too. Fucking chauvinistic twat.
“No worries, Robert.” I smile tightly and go to move down the hall. But he doesn’t let go of my arm, if anything, his hand tightens. A shudder runs through me.
“Was there...something you wanted to say?” I enquire, looking up from his hand to see his smile widen a fraction. Alarm bells start to ring in my head matching my beating heart.
“Well, I heard you were...good friends with Loki, so I wanted to see if you’d like to go for a walk? I’d love to be friends with a girl who has your...experience.”
Wow! Someone smacked him a little too hard with the charming stick and ended up at fucking bellend.