Nico Vaughan, the junior class "Nice Girl" wants to be free from her abusive and obsessive ex-boyfriend.
Valen Henford, the school's resident "Rich Guy meets Bad Boy" wants to spend his senior year with the girl he's been in love with for years.
W...
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"I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget" (Erin Van Vuren).
|◁ II ▷|
The doorbell rings. I want to ignore it, but instead, I trudge downstairs and open it. Bianca stands on my front porch, dressed in tight spandex and a lacy top that exposes her midriff.
She smiles when she sees me—a sultry, half smile. She doesn't wait for me to move aside and tell her to come in; She pushes past me gently, whispering "Hey, baby" as she passes.
I roll my eyes, anger surging again through me. I'm an idiot. I'm going to regret this. I regret it now, actually.
I made a stupid bet. Nico still isn't showing interest in me besides the tutoring gig I've set her up with. My parents still won't stay home for longer than a month, but what else is new? I'm alone, per usual.
I'm mad, and I've got a lot to be mad about.
Bianca pauses in the spacious living room, then turns to me. "Where's your room?"
"No," I respond coldly.
Her face twists in confusion. "No? Okay... Well, we'll just—"
She walks up to me in determination and takes my hand. I stay still. She leans up to me, but without my help, she can't reach my lips. She sighs a very frustrated sigh and wraps her finger under the band of my pants. "Valen. Help me out here, baby."
"Don't call me that."
"Don't call you 'Valen'? Your own name?" she teases.
"Don't call me 'baby'," I demand, agitated. "I am not your baby."
She pulls me over to the couch, and I let her. She pushes me down on it, and I let her. She sits on my lap, and I let her.
Everything is pointless, anyways. Vanity of vanities; all is vanity. And it might be the thing I need to stop obsessing over Nico. Maybe it will fix whatever problems my mind has, whatever loneliness has broken in my heart.
She leans up to kiss me, but her lips hover before mine for a few beats. I meet her, simply pressing my lips to hers. Her lips part, and we move our lips against each others for a moment.
I can feel her heart beating hard in her chest, and I move my right hand to her waist. I press my left into her head, pushing her harder against me, turning my head to deepen the kiss.
I'm not going to go slow. She wanted this. She pushed and pushed and pushed. She doesn't get a slow, romantic, "in-love" thing. She gets the fast-paced, lust-induced energy.
I bite hard on her lip, and a soft gasp and whimper come from her lips, opening her mouth. I shove my tongue inside her mouth, running over her own tongue and her teeth. I run it over the roof of her mouth and move back to her tongue before I move out of her mouth and down to her neck, biting softly into the flesh.
