To crave her.
I hop into the shower to rinse off, and as the water pours down over me, my hand finds its way unerringly to my cock. Images and remembered sensations flow through my mind as I stroke myself in hard, angry motions. This insatiable need that has me jerking off like a teenager at the very thought of her was a common occurrence in high school, and since seeing her again, it’s a daily occurrence that I’m not proud of.
Splaying one hand on the tiled wall, I bow my head, closing my eyes and losing myself to the need coursing through me. When my balls finally draw up tight and I come hard, painting the shower wall with ropes of cum, shame and relief spiral through me at the same time.
I want her out of my head. Out of my mind. Out of my heart.
Gripping the base of my cock, I let out a shaky exhale. Then I redirect the shower’s spray to wash my cum down the drain, hoping like hell that it will wash away a part of Emma’s hold on me too.
It isn’t long before I’m out of the shower, have a pair of jeans and a nice shirt on, and I’m heading out the door to go to a party.
Trent loves going to parties, Reese is amused by them, and I usually stand in the corner nursing a beer. I guess I’m amused by them too, but usually I just want to get out of there. I’m a one-on-one type of guy. And that’s only with the few people I actually want to be around.
Still, I’m having an okay time hanging with my boys, rebuffing the advances of a few overly aggressive freshman chicks who haven’t gotten the memo that I’m not interested—until I look across the room and spot Emma, standing with some guy I don’t know. I grip my beer tighter and glance toward Trent and Reese, who both just noticed the same thing I did.
They look pissed as shit, and I can feel my own features contorting in a snarl.
Who the fuck is that guy?
7
Emma
I have to admit, Peter is a really nice guy. We’re drinking beer and chatting, and I’m enjoying the swirl of new faces that surround me. We’ve been here for a couple of hours, and the large house has gotten more and more packed as the night wears on. A raucous cry goes up as a group of tipsy girls enter the party late, drawing my attention toward the door—and that’s when I see them, staring at me from across the room.
When I first spot Reese, Trent, and West, my blood goes cold. But a split second later, it turns hot and fiery. It seriously pisses me off that they still have this effect on me. All three of them. Peter obviously notices that my demeanor has changed because he knits his brow in confusion.
“Uh, hey. Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I shake my head, forcing my attention back to him and pasting a smile on my face. “I just think the beer has gone to my head.”
“You’re a lightweight.” He chuckles.
“You have no idea.”
I’ve tried to stay away from alcohol, and certainly drugs, since high school. At a house party in my sophomore year, I got kind of tipsy and nearly blurted out the truth to all three of my best friends—that I desired each of them in unique ways. Realizing that I’d been about to say way too much, I decided to lay off of drinking for a while. That was back before all the shit started, of course.
“Can I get you some water?” Peter asks, his brows furrowing with concern.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
I feel a little sick, and it’s not from anything I drank.
Peter is a nice guy, and I’m grateful that he invited me to the party. Even though he’s a really good-looking guy, I’ve noticed I don’t have the intensity of feelings for him that I have for my old friends. It pisses me off to no end when I admit that. It reminds me of how twisted it is that I’m so deeply attracted to men that intentionally hurt me. It’s so screwed up that I haven’t even admitted it to Leslie yet.
Trent, West, and Reese are staring at me like hawks, and it gets to the point where I simply can’t stand it anymore. What began as a really pleasant party is turning into a hothouse of tension.
“I think I need some fresh air,” I tell Peter, going up on my tiptoes and raising my voice so he can hear me over the music and the roar of laughter and conversation.
“Yeah, of course. No problem.” He nods, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the room. As we walk through the door, I glance back at the guys one last time, and what I see might just give me nightmares tonight. West looks like he’s about to beat the shit out of someone, Trent looks like he’s about to tear shit up too, and in Reese’s eyes, there’s a strange sadness veiled by contempt. I look away from them, unable to stand it for one more second.
It doesn’t matter what they think, Emma. They’re wrong, but even if they weren’t, it’s none of their fucking business.
Peter leads me down a short hallway, and before I know it, we’re outside in the cool evening air. I heave a sigh of relief, sucking in fresh oxygen as I tilt my face up to the night sky.
“Social anxiety?” Peter asks affably.
“Sometimes… I get a little funny around all those people,” I reply, not wanting to tell him the truth. I don’t even know how I feel about this guy, but I don’t want him to see me as weak. To know how fucked up in the head I am. “Do you mind if we keep walking?”