I Punched The Bad Boy? // ON HOLD

I Punched The Bad Boy? // ON HOLD

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing34m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Oct 3, 2018
My small hand scrunched up into a fist. I walked over to him and stared intently into his eyes. Catching him off guard, my knuckles collided with his jaw. He stumbled back a bit, and almost immediately raised his hand to his face. A loud gasp was heard, surprisingly it wasn't me. I looked down at my hand, which was turning a purple-blue colour, my knuckles white. He must've had a pretty hard jaw for my hand to turn out like this. Looking back up at Alex, realisation suddenly hit me. Hard. I just punched the bad boy.
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.

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