I'm Not Letting Her Go

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Stolen Moment

Declan

For the last week I have done everything in my power to stay away from this girl. Not that she’s making it easy on me. Seeing the tight tops, she’s been wearing, the short skirts, or tight pants that show off her amazing ass. My best friend is lucky I don’t pummel his face in, talking to her every day after the one class he shares with her.

I swear he does it deliberately to piss me off. Once I am finished having a lengthy discussion with her, I will be talking with him as well. I reach for the light switch, and when the light turns on abruptly, she closes her eyes. I take this moment to study her.

She’s wearing a short skirt today, with an off the shoulder top. Her hair is in a bun on top of her head, and I can see light touches of make up on her face. She’s drop dead beautiful, and the thing that gets me is she doesn’t realize it. She’s not like all the other girls, flashing their beauty to the world. No, this girl standing in front of me, has all the beauty in the world but never uses it.

She hides behind her books and sarcasm. She smiles very seldom, and always has a look of sadness hidden behind her eyes. I know all these things because when she is in the same room as me, I cannot keep my eyes off her. No matter how hard I try, my eyes follow her every movement. I could try to decipher what that all means, but I choose to ignore, what I know my heart already knows.

“You going to just stand there looking at me the rest of the day?” She places her hands along her hips. “Because believe it or not, some of us want to go to class and learn new things.” Her eyebrow raises up as she looks at me.

There it is the fire that intrigues me every time we are in each other’s presence. I take a step closer to her, in turn she drops her arms and takes a retreating step back. This continues, until her back hits the opposite wall, and I have her right where I want her.

Once she is cornered, I place both my hands on the side of her head, caging her in. I make sure to press my body as close to her as it can get. She stares up at me, her eyes wide. She’s feeling anxious, nervous, and completely turned on. I can smell all this on her.

Because I’m an asshole I move my face within an inch from hers, just to heighten the scent pouring from her pores. It adds to the fun, “so what if I decide to look at you the rest of the day? You got a problem with that red?”

Her nostrils flare as her chest rises and falls faster against mine. “As a matter of fact, I do. You’re always looking at me, watching my every move.” She looks up at me, glaring at me now.

“Yet you cannot even talk to me. Can’t have a normal conversation. No, instead you ignore me all week. News flash if you want to get the girl, you don’t make her feel like she’s one of you many toys.” She pushes at my chest now, trying to force me back, but I refuse to move.

“You don’t spend one day doing everything in your power to get her to notice you, hell not giving her a chance edge wise. Then, the rest of the week you act as though she doesn’t exist. That’s now how you treat a person, man or woman.” She’s practically yelling in my face now.

You would think she’d be pissing me off, and she is but she’s also turning me on. I know she’s right, of course she is, but if my grandfather was to find out, I’m not sure what he would do to me. He’d either kick my ass for pursuing her, thinking I wanted to treat her like any other girl, and in so many ways I do, for her own good. There’s also the alternative, he could demand I marry her, and have many children. Either way isn’t the best option for her, so I’ve been staying away.

She doesn’t make it easy on me, however. No, she makes me want to grab her neck, infuse our mouths together, move her panties to the side and slide into her delectable body. That thought has my control slipping and before I realize it, I’m doing that with our mouths.

One hand is on the back of her neck, the other is holding her face up by her chin. Before long, our tongues are wrestling for dominance. I don’t know what it is with this girl, I don’t usually care for the kissing thing. What’s the point? Most of the time, you just want to get inside the woman, so why bother kissing?

My usual technique is to kiss her neck, play with her tits, and once her legs wrap around me, I move her panties and start thrusting. It’s been working for me for years, but not with her. No Scarlett is different. She makes me want more. Makes me crave her more than my next meal.

Suddenly, she’s backing her head away, and looking into my eyes. Hers look confused, probably because she promised herself never to allow me to touch her again. Seems like she’s not only my weakness, but I am also hers as well.

“How do you do that? Every time I decide I’m not going to have anything to do with you. That I won’t allow you to touch me, you move close to my body, kiss my lips and I’m as good as gone.” There is sadness held within her eyes.

I know she’s probably confused. Hell, I am too, no woman has ever affected me in such a way. Normally, I can get my fix, give them the best orgasms, and then move on. With her it feels different. With her it’s something more, and that thought scares me to death.

I cannot let her get tangled up with me. The men in my family ruin their women. Probably because we are such assholes and treat them poorly. I know this, that’s why I always vowed never to truly fall for anyone. That’s why I put on the asshole act, treat the girls the way I do, so no one truly falls for me. They just want to fuck me. It’s a win-win situation. At least it was until she came along.

“I don’t know.” Knowing I need to stop whatever this is between us I crowd her body with mine again. “But baby girl if you need me to help with that situation of yours. I am just the man to make you gush repeatedly.” I wink at her.

That does it, the next second her hand is in the air aiming for my face. When it makes contact, it takes all my will power not to do what I really want. Which is to make both our desirable dreams come true in this moment.

“You don’t get to talk to me that way. You don’t get to treat me like every other girl. I am not one of your toys.” She points in my face.

“I am a woman, a woman who deserves respect. If you cannot give me that then you can go climb a tree and leave me the hell alone once and for all.” She shoves at my chest, only this time I don’t fight her. I move away from her and allow her to make her way to the door.

She has her hand on the knob, and the door creased open just slightly. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself.” Her words have me looking up at her.

She’s looking at me, but I swear she can see straight into my soul. “I don’t know why you put on this act of being a total asshole that has no feelings. I know you do; I’ve seen it this last week. In some way I feel like I’ve known you for a long time. I don’t know why.” She looks out the slit of the door and away from me.

“But something tells me it is significant in a way. Something tells me there is more here between us and that scares you to your bones.” She turns back to look at me, “but know this if you can stop with all this playing of the games, and really be who you are with me, I’m willing to be your friend.”

My eyebrows crease, she wants to be my friend. After I have treated her so badly. Embarrassed her, treated her like a slut, all the other girls that throw themselves at me.

“Believe me I don’t quite understand it either, but it’s true. I am willing to be your friend. Be here for you in whatever way you so desperately need. I guess in a way I see the same lost soul I see in myself.” She speaks.

“Who knows,” she shrugs her shoulders and smiles at me, “perhaps when you are honest with yourself, we could be more.” She looks at me once more, before she walks out into the hallway. Leaving me alone in a closet with just my thoughts.

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