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Hunger fills his eyes and I find myself putting on a show. I move my hips, roll my body, and tilt my head, offering myself up to Damian who takes the bait.

The hunger intensifies and as Damian reacts to my touch and presses his lips back to my neck, a darkness clouds Slade’s gaze. Confusion filters through his eyes and I realize it’s the same damn confusion that’s baffled me since day one. He wants me, but he wants to hate me more, and the thought of Damian having me, makes him want to fuck things up, but one thing is for sure, he will never have me.

A smirk lifts the corner of my lips and I bring the near-empty bottle of Tequila to my mouth and take a long, hard drink.

Slade tears his eyes from mine and I feel myself struggling to breathe. Why do I allow him to have this intense effect over me? He stalks away but Damian is quick to take over the need that Slade left pulsing within me. “Fuck,” he rumbles. “He’s going to have my balls for this.”

I turn in Damian’s arms and he doesn’t once let his lips move from my neck. “Why?”

He shakes his head and wordlessly makes it clear that this conversation is over, but I don’t really care. Well, at least, I shouldn’t. Why should it matter what Slade does to Damian and his reasons why? It’s got nothing to do with me…or maybe it does? I don’t know but I don’t want their bullshit to kill my buzz and from the way Damian keeps his body moving against mine, neither does he.

We finish off the bottle and after the very last drop is gone, the bottle gets tossed over Damian’s shoulder, not caring what the hell happens to it. A preppy blonde steps into view and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out as she watches her play toy messing around with someone else.

“Uh-oh,” I say, digging my elbow back into Damian’s ribs as Rachel stands before us, fuming at the sight of his hands on my body and the love bites that are most likely covering my neck and shoulders. “You’re in trouble.”

Rachel starts making her way toward us as Damian glances up and scrunches his face in irritation. “Fuck her, she’s just a little fun,” he tells me, slipping his hand into mine and pulling me through the crowd of grinding bodies. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

Any other time, I’d probably say no, but I’m having far too much fun with him. He’s easily made me forget the bullshit from my past and all the Slade drama, though, that could have something to do with the bottle of Tequila currently sitting in the bottom of my stomach.

We scale the stairs and we crack into laughter as Damian tumbles over one and nearly falls on his face. He catches himself and grins back at me, proud that he was able to remain upright.

I chuckle at his back as he pulls me down the hallway and slams me up against a bedroom door without warning. I’m left breathless as his body squeezes the air from my lungs and he devours my neck.

I haven’t had sex since…no. I can’t think of that now. This is different. So much different.

I try to relax my body. I want this. I don’t care that Damian is just some random guy, and a guy that I barely like at that, but he’s not him and that’s all that matters right now. Maybe I could get this over and done with and come out the other end realizing that I’m capable of moving on. Maybe it’ll even be fun. One thing’s for sure, I’m never going to be able to move on if I never allow myself to open up and be vulnerable around a man.

I need this.

The music downstairs fades out at the end of the song and it becomes increasingly clear that the bedroom behind my back is already occupied. I grin up at Damian only to have fury ripple through his features, clearly not enjoying the fact that what must be his room is being used by someone who is not him.

A low murmur rumbles through the wall before the familiar tone of Maze’s high-pitched moan comes following after, making me laugh that much more.

Damian reaches around me for the door handle but I stop him. After all, a girl has got to have a friend’s back. If she’s currently getting her world rocked, then we should do the decent thing and wait for her to finish or at least go somewhere else. I mean, I’ve never screwed on a washing machine but I’ve only heard good things. “We’ll go somewhere else,” I murmur, making him look back at the door, torn between busting the guy in his room and taking me somewhere to bury himself inside of me.


Tags: Sheridan Anne Aston Creek High Erotic