Papillon

Chapter 21: Punishment

Bella

Two weeks since I slept with Francis and I was obsessed. My sex-drive was off the charts, completely and entirely.

Every time I saw him, my vision blurred in a lust-induced haze. It exploded in my head, making my ears roar. My blood boiled every time I passed him in the hallways. Our eyes caught, time slowed as much as our breaths and then with a toss of my hair or a quick flicker of greens, the moment was broken.

Even if he was inattentive during school hours, he was anything but when we were actually together alone. In the last two weeks, I'd had sex a borderline unhealthy amount. It was mind-blowing.

Right after he took my virginity on that Sunday, he'd carried me into my shower and washed every inch of me, kissing me until I grew hungry to feel him and begged him to be inside me. Then, he'd wrapped my legs around his waist and fucked me against my shower tiles. His arms had stayed around my hips while I had cooked myself dinner and packed him some to-go. Then, he'd slipped out right before my parents came home, both of them wondering what had compelled me to shower so early.

But at school, Alana Martin was really starting to piss me the fuck off. I was talking a visceral, deep-rooted hatred for the perfect girl with black hair. Even if she was sugary sweet to me to my face, I knew she didn't mean a single word.

Skipping all that shit, I fucking hated Alana because she still was obsessed with Francis. So deeply infatuated with him and wouldn't shut up about him.

It was another game but this one sucked. I'd given him my virginity and though he'd been kind, gentle, and respectful during and after, it didn't carry on the second we were in public.

Which was why, the second I saw him talking to her on the quad, her hand running down his chest, I saw red. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tyler Davis–captain of the football team and an old fling–right next to them. Perfect.

Throwing my best smile on my face, I sauntered over to where he was standing with the rest of the football team, tossing a ball around on the quad. Ignoring the whistles from the rest of the boys there, I walked right past Tyler, knowing he would take the bait.

"Well well, if it isn't Bella Ryder," he announced. Bingo. I turned around to look at him.

"You're in luck," I smiled sweetly. "It is."

"Where are you off to?"

"Need to change before practice," I smiled sweetly. Behind Tyler's shoulder, I could see the greens trained on me. They were cold and harsh and sent a tremor down my spine. Something sardonic passed through them, with a flash of possessive.

"Need any help with that?" Tyler raised an eyebrow.

"Hm," I pretended to think about it, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "Are you offering?"

"Oh, most definitely," Tyler straightened. Behind him, Francis' eyes narrowed and every single muscle in his annoyingly perfect face tightened.

"Why?"

"Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?" Tyler asked, running his knuckles down my face.

It should have made me warm and fuzzy. It should have made me blush. But it didn't. The only things that did these days were dirty French words in my ear and a thumb across my cheek.

Apparently, physical contact was the line because I didn't get a chance to answer. A rough arm grabbed the crook of my elbow and the touch was so familiar, it sent a bolt of lust down my spine already.