I was never going to have it all.
Confidence.
Friends.
Or Love.
Not now. Not ever.
Until him.
A spoiled brat.
UOP's ultimate asshole.
The hockey team bad boy.
Damon Saint.
He hates me,
Or so I thought.
One night. One. That was supposed to be it.
Unt...
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She's like a force. A damn presence I can't get rid of. My eyes track the blonde as she throws her body into the dance. It's like she compels me to watch her everyday.
Compels me to stand outside this studio and watch her fuckable body dance to this music. I growl erupts from my throat.
My eyes follow her every move. Every step. Her eyes flick to mine, even though she can't see me I'm sure she knows I'm here. She always does.
I lick my lips as I run my hand through my hair. It's not time but it will be. Sometime soon it will be time I just don't know when.
When I can lay my plan out and when I can make the game begin. Either way she'll know once it's started. She'll be very fucking aware of my every fucking move.
No, her little boyfriend won't be in the way anymore and no she won't tell me no. Not when my heads between her thighs and not when I have her glossy lips wrapped around my cock.
A smirk pulls at my lips as I make my way out of the dance studio and onto the quad. My eyes gleam with amusement when the sound of the music stops but I quicken my steps.
She does it everyday. Wanting to catch me in conversation. Ask me why I was there. So many questions but not enough answers.
I grin at the sound of heels clicking on the concrete as she races after me. Still I ignore her. Pretend. It's always easier to pretend. Pretend she doesn't exist after my little session everyday of watching her dance.
Pretend I don't want anything from her when that's not the truth at all. I want her and fuck I'll have her just not yet. Patience.
My little precious just has to wait. Wait for the game to start and wait for my signal. Until then I just pretend.
Her heels still click loudly as she falls in step beside me. Urging me for answers like she does everyday. Waiting for me to tell her the end plan.
That's just not how this works though. She doesn't get answers until I say so. Doesn't get to breathe unless I tell her too. I want my fist closed around her throat until she'd do anything just to breathe.
Nothing more and nothing less. That's what she is though. A nuisance. A fucking headache. A warm space for my cock to spend the night. And a damn red flag if I ever saw one.
Bailey Sanchez won't be anything to me other then a good fuck. It's best she remember that. Before and after I brand her ass with my hand print.
Her blue eyes flutter when I glance at her from the side. So much hope in those pretty eyes. I won't ever be someone she should hope for. Won't ever be an endgame. Just the dark and shattered presence lingering under her bed every night.
