The Tutor (BOOK 2: OMEN KING SERIES)

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Romeo Benjamin

I grin, taking in the sight of the brunette on top of me, her hair a mess and her cheeks flushed. Her lips are parted, her breathing heavy as she rocks her hips against mine. It's a beautiful moment, and yet, my heart feels heavy. I watch her, transfixed. She's a sight to behold-a goddess, a temptress, a dream come true.

But then my mind drifts back to that certain blonde girl-the one who doesn't give a fuck about me or the fact that I'm about to fail a class I desperately need to pass. I let out a frustrated groan, my mind a broken record.

Jenny. Jenny. Jenny.

"Everything okay?" the brunette asks, her voice husky and filled with concern.

Her ample boobs are pressed against my chest, and my dick is still deep inside her, yet my brain can't seem to accept that there's a beautiful girl on top of me right now. It's infuriating, really.

I force a grin onto my face. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

She leans in, trailing kisses along my jaw, her lips soft and inviting. "Don't think," she whispers, her breath hot against my skin. "Just feel."

It should be easy, right? Who doesn't love sex? It's supposed to be an escape, a mindless release. But my head is betraying me, and all I can think about is Jenny.

It's ridiculous. I don't even know her. We've barely exchanged words, yet I can't shake her from my thoughts. It's like she's some kind of curse, haunting my every waking moment. Her blue-gray eyes, full of fire and determination, flash in my mind, and I can't help but picture her on top of me. I groan, shaking my head, trying to clear the image, but it clings on like a stubborn stain.

"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of my own stupidity.

The brunette sits back, her expression shifting to confusion and concern. "Are you sure everything's okay? I can stop if you want."

"No, no," I say quickly, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Keep going."

But the mood is ruined. I can't stop thinking about Jenny-her stubbornness, her quick wit, and how she calls me out on my bullshit like I'm some kind of child. And worst of all? Those puffy eyes. There's something behind them, something sad that I'm too scared to unravel.

"Actually," I sigh, gently lifting the brunette off my lap, "You should probably go. Sorry, it's not you. I'm just... not feeling it right now."

Not you? Jesus, I really am a dickhead. No wonder Jenny didn't like me; I wouldn't like me either if I were a girl.

She stares, clearly surprised. "Are you sure?"

Romeo Benjamin refusing sex? This should be in the history textbooks. Thank God none of my roommates are here to witness this; they'd have ammo to use against me all bloody year.

"Yeah," I say, leaning in to kiss her softly, trying to make it less awkward. "Sorry, I'll make it up to you."

I have to stop doing this, because I don't even remember her name, and I can see her visibly deflate, her disappointment clear as day. But I can't go on like this, thinking of someone else while being with her. Owen would have my balls if he knew I was still sleeping around in our shared living room.

She gets up without another word, quickly pulling her clothes back on.

"I'll call you," I promise, knowing full well that I won't.

As soon as she leaves, the silence is suffocating. I sit on the couch, utterly alone with my thoughts, and all I can think about is Jenny. It's pathetic. She's nothing special, really. And yet, I can't get her out of my head.