Gemma
Fireball was gross.
It tasted like actual fire going down my throat, and it took everything I had not to cough like an idiot after Sloane had handed me the tiny plastic cup. At first, I’d tried sipping on it, but Mercedes and Sloane laughed before demonstrating how to drink it. I was used to Richard drinking his amber-colored liquid in a glass cup, clinking the ice around like a warning before being scolded. But I took the drink anyway, chucking it back and downing it within seconds. I knew why I’d been so bold. I felt Isaiah staring at me, and I wanted to show him that I was fine, that last night's tutoring session didn’t bother me in the slightest. Sure, my heart felt a little banged up, and it took every ounce of strength I had to keep my mouth shut as I refused to tell him what Bain had said to me, but I was fine.
Except, now that I was being pulled into a dark room with hands that were unfamiliar resting over parts that only he had touched, I felt smothered. The fear of being in a damp, cold room without even a sliver of light had my heart flying throughout my chest. I felt almost as scared as the first claiming party, when Bain had whispered things into my ear that made my skin crawl and caused me to panic. Now that I was a little surer of myself, I wasn’t that scared, but the fear still laid quietly in the back of my head. The past still brimmed the surface, and I had to remember that I saw the face of the guy who came over to me. I didn’t know his name, but I’d seen him around the school at times. I’d passed by him in the hallway and maybe even in the dining hall. He wasn’t going to hurt me. His genuine gaze drove into mine before the lights shut off, silently asking me if I was up for this, and I nodded in approval.
I wanted to get Sloane’s and Mercedes’ go-ahead, but if I looked over at them, then I’d see Isaiah and Breanna again, and I couldn’t stomach it. I was on my own right now, and I needed to trust myself.
The door latched, and the room was pitch black. My pulse was strumming, and I took a deep breath as the guy slowly backed me up against the wall.
“Wasn’t sure you’d agree to this,” he whispered along my neck. His breath smelled of the same alcohol that I’d consumed, and I swallowed back the cinnamon taste that still rested on my tongue. “Someone told me that you were no longer Isaiah’s. Is that true? Or should I be prepared for him to knock down that door?”
I breathed out a light laugh, trying to force away the excitement that came with that thought. What was wrong with me?! Isaiah was currently touching someone else! “Didn’t you see that Isaiah found a replacement? He’s not coming in here to stop this.” I swallowed, tipping my head to the side to allow him access. “He doesn’t care.”
The truth I felt behind those words made me clam up, but I tried to relax as rough hands skimmed down the sides of my black dress and underneath my butt. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. I wasn’t even sure if this was what I wanted, but I was doing it anyway. I slowly turned back to the warm breath I felt against my neck and placed my lips on his. They didn’t feel like Isaiah’s. They didn’t make my knees wobbly or cause a bundle of heat to burrow in my core, but in a sense, it still felt good. When his hands started to move slowly over my hips and up my chest, my breathing picked up a little.
I wasn’t panicking, though, and I wasn’t trying to push away memories of Richard from my head. I didn’t feel that prickle of danger that I’d felt when Bain had shoved me into one of these rooms during the first party. I didn’t feel unsafe.
My tongue moved inside his mouth, and I started to feel a little bit hotter. His hands grew more intense, and I began to lose myself in the moment until I realized that the entire reason why I wasn’t panicking or forcing thoughts of my past away was because instead of focusing on the way this guy was touching me, I was thinking of Isaiah. I thought about the time his hands had cupped my ass as he placed me on top of the dining hall table. I thought about the way he made my body hum in the library last week. I thought about how good the high felt when he took me in his mouth against a tree. How enthralling was that? It was so wrong to do something like that out in the open, but my body responded, just like it was responding now at the thought of it.
I wasn’t kissing some random guy in the middle of a claiming party. In my head, I was kissing Isaiah. My nipples hardened, and I whimpered, feeling out of control. What the hell was wrong with me?! Stop thinking of Isaiah! I was driving myself mad, and I felt myself getting antsy. I spread my legs, eager for this guy to make me feel him instead of the one who kept reaching inside my chest and twisting my heart.
“No,” I said, taking his hands from my pebbled nipples and placing them on my thighs. “I want you here.”
“Fuck,” he muttered over my lips in a breathy way. “Whatever you want.”
My head fell back again as I pushed Isaiah out of my head. It’s not Isaiah.
But…it was. The door flung open, and a tall shadow appeared in the doorway. The guy’s hands stopped moving just on the brink of where my panties touched the inside of my leg, and I froze. The lone light bulb was suddenly clicked on, and the air thickened immediately. Isaiah stood there, staring directly at me with a fire brewing in his eyes, and that only made me burn hotter. His cheeks were flushed, and his knuckles were bleeding. My first reaction was to race over to him to see what had happened, but I stopped myself before I could.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, keeping my hands on a set of broad shoulders. Shouldn’t he be with Breanna?
The guy clicked his tongue. “Told you.”