Surrendering to Heat

Chapter 5: Strange Feelings

- - Angelina Harte - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I feel as though I'm drowning, falling deeper and deeper into those amethyst eyes until I lose myself. A voice in the back of my mind is telling me, "Look away. Just walk away right now and don't come back. Look away. He's dangerous. Look away..."

A part of me wants to listen. After all, instinct has never steered me wrong before. I've always listened to that voice...that is...until now. In spite of the danger, I want to stay right here. This is a life changing moment. I can feel it. I'm supposed to meet this guy. This guy...is going to change my life. I don't know how yet...but he will.

He's soooo hot.

Damien, just take me! Take me!

God I'd love to be this guy's one night stand. Two night stand...sex friends...sex slave...

What the hell? I'll kill them. Slut bags! He's mine! Mine. I'll rip out their hair and gouge out their eyes if they continue to look at him! My lips curl into a snarl, and menacing growl sounds.

What was that? Was that...me? Shocked I look around to see if it was something else, it wasn't...but I'm satisfied to see that no slut bags are visibly lusting over what's mine.

Wait...mine? He's not mine! What am I thinking? For godess's sake! I don't even know him. This is weird. This is really really weird. Why did I just think that? Plus...what is with these violent thoughts? And the possessiveness? I know I'm pretty crazy, but violent? And for a complete stranger? I mean, with the whole Gwen thing, I'm not exactly the most trusting person in the world. So for me to act and feel this way for some stranger is just met...it's unheard of.

Especially with this guy! Everything about him screams DANGER! Bad boys have never really been my type, but one look at him and reconsidering it. Really reconsidering it. And that scares the crap out of me. He doesn't scare me, but the feelings he illicits within me do. And that propells me into action.

I force myself to look away from those deep unfathomable eyes. And attempt to speak.

"..."

My throat is dry. This guy makes me nervous. Queasy. Like butterflies in the stomach queasy. I clear my throat.

"Um...I think I'm in your seat so...I'll just move now..."

No response. I look up again, curious and unable to resist. He seems...fascinated or curious. His head is tilted and he looks...just as confused as I am. I gulp down some spit, still way too nervous for no reason at all.

Looking at him is not a good idea, I decide. I can't think when that happens.

I grab my backpack, but freeze when I feel a burning sensation on the top of my hand. It's him. I try to pull my hand away, but it doesn't budge. I look up again, shocked. My eyes must be the size of saucers by now.

"It's...ok. You're already settled in. I'll just take the empty seat next to you." His right lip turns up ever so slighty, just enough for me to take that as a smile, before he lets go. Ridiculous. I don't blush! What is with this guy. I simply nod to show that I've heard him.

He sits down. Although contact with him was brief, it felt like it lasted eons. I rub the spot he touched. It still feels hot.

By this time, class has resumed. Probably due to some imperceptible signal from him. Mr. Brinkley's lecturing about some sort of chair of torture right now.

"...a chair covered in spikes. The victim would be tied down and..."

I can barely concentrate on a word he's saying. I put my head on my desk, faced away from him. I've literally short circuited. I refuse to look in the his direction. I can feel his gaze burning a hole into the back of my head. Too intense. He's too intense.