His fingers were still holding my chin firmly, and he pulled me close. “Why are you denying the inevitable, Theodora?”
I couldn’t handle his intense gaze that always made me want to spill all my secrets to him. “I’m not.” I down shifted my eyes. “I don’t want you. You can’t force yourself back into my life.”
“You don’t want me?” he asked deceptively softly. He released my chin, and I thought he would yell at me or yank me out of the car and tell me to get the fuck out. Instead, his hand landed on the edge of my shirt. His fingers slipped under the fabric, touching my bare stomach.
“What are you doing?”
His fingers traveled up my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. “Calling your bluff.” Two fingers hooked over the band of my bra under my cleavage. “I’ll keep on until you admit you’re lying.” He watched me with that blazed challenge in his eyes.
Something inside me had the wild urge to test him. Why? I guess I was caught in a moment. I was obviously not right in the head, but he definitely wasn’t either. My chin jutted out stubbornly. He yanked on my bra until the cups slipped beneath my nipples.
He leaned over me as his fingers caressed the swell of my inner breast. “Stop me.”
Don’t. The word lingered lodged in my throat like peanut butter. I should’ve slapped his hand away. Or shoved him off. Among many other things. However, I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to do so much more, just like he’d said himself a few minutes ago. My skin tingled under his touch. He slid his fingers across my skin and exhaled erratically when he ran his thumb over my hardened nipple. “Stop me,” he repeated as he lowered his lips on mine, lulling me into his sweet seduction. He took my bottom lip between his teeth and bit while I gasped in shameful pleasure. “Stop me.” His other hand was at the button of my jeans, flicking it open. The sound of the zipper mixed in with our mingled breaths.
“You want this, Theodora.” His finger slid over the fabric of my panties, strumming my clit. I moaned, clenching his lower torso in response. Craving his touch. He stroked a few more times, and I lifted my hips up, needing more friction. Soon, his hand was gone, leaving me throbbing and slack-jawed. He rasped with smugness, “Don’t ever fucking lie to me about not wanting this. Wanting me. Lie about anything else, but not this.” He stepped back leaving me confused while shame crept up my neck hitting my cheeks.
“Theo?” I heard Kenzie’s voice not too far away, getting closer. “Theo, where are you?”
“She’s over here,” Roman called out casually as though he didn’t just have his hand down my pants, which I frantically zipped up and buttoned while he flashed a smirk.
“You’re an asshole,” I whispered, jumping out of the passenger seat and adjusting my bra and shirt.
“I’ve been called worse,” he replied, strumming my jaw. “But I still want to fuck you.”
Roman
“What you did tonight was not right, man.” Axel sat next to me on the edge of one of the loungers by the pool. We had another after game party, but tonight I wasn’t really feeling it, although we’d beat a tough opponent that had been ranked higher than us in the college football polls. Being a smaller school, you had to have a perfect season to cause any buzz in the polls when the bigger colleges always received all the attention. I should’ve been partying my ass off, but I couldn’t get a certain blond girl out of my head. Who the fuck was I kidding? She’d always been on my mind, more so ever since I set eyes on her again at that PIKE party.
“Yeah, that was fucked up.” Dmitri sat to my right and tipped back his what he would call “shitty domestic beer.” Sorry, when I ordered kegs for everyone and their damn mother, you got what you got. I wasn’t running a yuppy-ass craft beer distillery here. Now, if he wanted tequila, maybe we could talk.
“What are you? His fucking parrot?” I shrugged off his comment. I didn’t know where Nick was because I’m fairly certain we’d have a sequel of what happened earlier, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Yes it was fucked up what I did. I knew it. I acknowledged it in my head. But Nick wasn’t completely absolved either. “It was fucked up what he did too,” I retorted like a sullen teen who felt justified. Nick was deliberately provoking me, and I called him out on his shit.
“Yeah, but still,” Axel began, and why wasn’t this fucker knee deep in some fan girl or two like he normally was after a win? Or wagering bets on video games while his groupies crowded around him as his own personal cheer section? Instead, he was busting my balls over what happened earlier. “You’ve been acting like a fucking dog, pissing a circle around Theo when you already have a girl.” Axel had his head down in his phone, scrolling as though this was a daily conversation about practice. “You and Nick are too good of friends to let stupid shit like this come between you.”
Stupid shit. It wasn’t stupid to me. I wanted Theodora, always had. They wouldn’t understand because I hadn’t told them the whole story of what went down. My love for her was deep, then. Like a million leagues under the sea deep. But what happened then…because of our ages…it would only sound seedy and tainted. And I hated that thought. It took me years to not hate myself because it wasn’t like that between us. Or so I thought. “You don’t know the story. You think you know, but you don’t.”
“Fill me in, man.” Dmitri leaned in and put his arm around me. Seriously, why were both of them sitting here trying to psychoanalyze me? Dmitri was a player too, but hid his shit like the CIA, or maybe I should say the KGB? Shrugs. Whatever. Homeboy was as secretive as fuck about his hookups. Now he wanted to know details like an exposé reporter. No thanks.
“It’s a long story.” I took a sip from my cup. “Not everything is as it seems, right, D? You can relate.” I slapped Dmitri on the back. He kept his unemotional face…unemotional.
“Look at this.” Axel held out his phone. “I told you, bro. I told you this was messed up.” He showed me an Instagram post, and there were several pictures of Theodora and I kissing where I was tagged. People were already commenting about it:
I see you playa. #MVP
Winner gets the spoils.
#Sidepiece
Roman’s slut
#whatawhore
Nick and Roman are tag teaming that ass.
Get you some, boy.
The comments went on and on about how Theodora was a slut, and my blood boiled as I read through more texts. It was brutal. It reminded me of high school when people accused her of being my whore then. There were several pictures at different angles from different accounts. I didn’t even think when it happened. I just acted, which was one of my problems whenever I was around her. I lost my sanity and never thought about consequences. Somehow she was tagged in the pictures, too. Double fuck. I knew her IG handle because I’d checked out her account on one occasion or several. Theodora didn’t post much. Just artistic pictures, usually with some positivity quote.
I tossed the phone back to Axel. “I’ll handle this. Besides, it will go away soon, when someone posts some other bullshit drama of the day.”