Elijah POV
I watched her walk, secretly, not so secretly, loving the way her perfect ass looked in the tights she was wearing. It was then that I looked around and realized, with frustration, that I wasn't the only pair of eyes glued to my Shorties round behind.
I frown before rushing towards her, grabbing her arm just as she was about to walk into her class. She turns and grins at me first but then she sees the expression on my face and sighs. "Can this wait, Elijah? If I'm late again this week I'll get detention then I'll be grounded and we won't be able to hang out."
"This can't wait," I simply say before pulling her into the now empty stairway just as the bell rings.
She raises her hands above her head in a dramatic gesture and my eyes are drawn to the flash of light bare skin when she does, which causes them to narrow further. She opens her pretty mouth, most likely to chew me up, but I interrupt her by grabbing the zipper to her matching Pink jacket and yanked it slightly down.
Her eyes widen as I do and she pushes me away from her while hastily zipping back up her jacket as a freshman hurriedly runs through the stairwell, looking over at us briefly, before continuing on her way. But it was too late, I'd already seen the red bra she was wearing under her jacket. And while the image of her in just her underwear never failed to do things to me, knowing that she was only walking around today with just the jacket to hide her exquisite chest only proved to anger me further.
"Where in the hell is your shirt?" I snap while resisting the urge to shake her.
She frowns and runs a hand through her wild curls. "Honestly Elijah, get over yourself." She says then attempts to step around me but I move in her way and push her, with maybe a little to much force, back against the wall. She glares up at me and pushes me back, but because she was only but five feet and a lol over one hundred pounds I stayed rooted to my spot.
"Why do you feel the need to walk around half naked all the time like some little slut?" I say and immediately regretted it. Even though I was well beyond angry that she was almost never fully dressed, I knew that comparing her to most of the other girls in our school was crossing the line.
She pushes me again, her eyes narrowing dangerously, as she stared daggers up at me. "Fuck you, Elijah," she spat out. "You're not my dad or brother or my boyfriend so unless you what to stop being my friend, you'll stop being so damn jealous and won't ever call me a slut again."
I wince. We spent all day Tuesday in her bed, talkin' and fuckin'. It was one of our best days together and it only made my feeling for her to grow in ways that I didn't even want to think about. Since Tuesday we've been talking the most since we started school. Yesterday she hung out with me after football practice and today I took her to Micheals before school for breakfast.
She wasn't my girlfriend, she made it clear that we weren't back together after the third time I nutted in her on Tuesday. But that didn't mean I would be any less possessive of her. She was mine, even when she wasn't with me.
I glared back. "One, I didn't call you a slut and two, stop fucking prancing get around in skirts so tight I can make out your outline and don't only were a bra under your jacket," I say back. "I don't enjoy other dudes staring get at what's mine."
"I think its really cute when your jealous Elijah, but I'm not going to allow you to tell me how to dress. And if you have a problem with it you can you kick rocks because as stated before your not my father and even he has no authority over what I wear."
Our standoff continued for several more minutes as a plan formulated in my head and I smirked with a shrug of my shoulder, putting my acting skills to work by schooling my features so I looked nonchalant. "Your right," I say, dragging my eyes from her Jordan's to her tight dark gray tights to the matching loose jacket. "I'm not your dad and it was wrong of me to act that way towards you."
