"In Which Reality is No Damsel in Distress"
(Pt. 3)
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1:??AM (It's a fight, who keeps track of time?)
Somewhere in Averill
Ugn, I open my eyes, only to meet nothing but a vast starless sky.
You'd think for a girl who had been thrown over her back at least a thousand times, my experience would kick in. (And NO, not like that! And by that, I meant sex. For those who haven't thought of that — well, good for you! For the rest, shame!),
I hear some shuffling on my right — and the smell of tuna.
I hate tuna. Much like I'm beginning to hate the man hovering over me.
BLECH! I scrunch my nose at the repulsive scent. I take it back, I hate the tuna smell even more.
I try to command one of my hands to pinch my nose when I realize they were trapped to either side of my head. The only thing I can move is my head — not that I had any legroom to begin with.
"Now this is more like it. You look fucking good on your back," a voice purrs — I'm guessing Carl, obviously — leaning down on me and nuzzling the sensitive part of my neck.
I fight the accruing wave of revulsion. Yup, I'm gonna need an acid bath for that. Twice.
I send him a devilish smirk, despite the riotous sound of my heartbeat while I gasp copious amounts of air.
"Yeah, you think so?" I ask him coyly, keeping his gaze on mine, and my body still.
Assuming my lack of thrashing as a sign of surrender to his superior strength, the restraints on my hands loosen.
I manage to sneak my hands down his chest. I clench my right hand around the collar of his hoodie. At the same time, my left hand grabs his elbow.
I uncross my feet, using my right foot and left shoulder for support. I lift my hips to the right, creating a small space between us. My left leg lays on the ground next to Carl's knee as I bring my right across his stomach.
Before Carl can react, I straighten my right knee and scissor my legs in one flowing movement. Sweeping him off his knees, I drag his arm towards me as I hoist myself up and reverse our positions.
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Novela JuvenilAve Michaels is an out-and-proud cynical romantic who never had her heart broken (considering she has to fall in love first.) That is until, in order to get published, she has to prove she's a versatile writer by writing a romance novel. Throw in a...