Michelle
I skipped school this week. The fear of Thomas trying to find me kept me locked in my room, but
tonight I’m at a place where that guy isn’t invited: the party at the frathouse. I’m standing in a long line
with countless pretty women. They are all wearing dresses, high heels, and earrings. Beautiful people.
It makes me anxious about my own outfit watching them.
Should I have worn something different than a cardigan? Is it weird that I came with comfortable, snug
clothing? Even my sweatpants are pretty loose.
Not that I have many clothes to choose from. I’m not rich, and I’m sure I can have fun even if I’m not
looking all bling-bling. I washed my hair before coming here, though, and now a brown braid hangs
over the right side of my collarbone.
I feel pretty.
Will Maddox think that too? I blink up at the house. Music is playing, and people are already loud on the
balcony. Everyone seems to have fun, but I can’t relax.
I still haven’t made up with Maddox, and he has been blowing up my phone these past few days. Then,
when I finally agreed to answer my phone because I couldn’t take the vibrations anymore, he said we
needed to talk in person.
His stressed, almost desperate tone confused me. I’m not sure what Maddox wants. Apologize to me?
It doesn’t seem like something that he would ever do.
“Hey, Michelle?”
I turn around and notice Jason waving at me from his car. He jumps out with a big smile, and I wave
back at him until seeing Maddox jumping out from the passenger side.
My heart kicks up speed, and I stand rooted to the spot. I glue my eyes to the gargantuan football
player. Maddox seems to have come home straight from the gym and shoves his big hands into the
pocket of his grey sweatpants.
“You came.”
Maddox approaches me, and I have to crane my neck up and up until he is towering over me. My pulse
is skyrocketing. Facing Maddox after our fight makes discomfort crawl underneath my skin. I don’t want
to be his enemy, but I’m terrified of being hurt and let down again.
“Y yeah..” I find it hard to speak. My lips are parched, and there is a lump in my throat. Maddox’s
intense eyes are kept on mine, yet I find the courage to continue talking. “You said… You said you
needed to talk with me in person… So I came here…”
“I do.” Maddox’s lips twitch, and then he lifts his attention, eyeing the line leading up the house. Jason
is already by the door, and Maddox sighs before grabbing my hand. “Come. There is no need for you to
stand in line when you personally know us. Lionel will let you pass.”
“Uh… Okay?”
Maddox drags me past the line, and I peer up at him. He is sweaty and kind of stinks, but his
expression makes me blush. I’ve never seen him look so determined.
“I’m going to shower,” Maddox informs me as he nods to Lionel and manages to get us inside without
any questions. He takes me into the living room. “Do you need anything, or will you be fine waiting for
me? It will only take like twenty minutes, and then we can talk. I could leave you on the couch. Does
that sound okay?”
Music is thundering around us, but most people are outside in the little garden by the pool.
There are bowls of chips inside the living room, and a smile curls my lips.
I haven’t eaten today. I’m already planning on taking one of the chips bowls into my lap. A mischievous
plan forms inside my head. “Y-yeah, I think I can manage to wait for you here…
Maddox seems surprised I’m not putting up more of a fight. The truth is that under normal
circumstances, I would demand Maddox to talk to me now, but I’m hungry, and the solution is right
there. Grill chips in a lime green plastic bowl; I can hardly wait.
“Okay,” Maddox attempts a smile. It comes out reluctant as if he doesn’t fully trust I’m okay with waiting
for him. “I will head upstairs. Don’t go anywhere. Give me twenty minutes, okay?
“Okay.” Maddox gives me a nod, and then he spins on his heels. The floor thuds underneath his feet as
he walks up the stairs. I watch his broad, muscular back. He really is big. Pumped, swollen and sweaty
from having pushed his muscles to the limits at the gym.
Heat shoots between my legs.
Lord, his cock felt incredible inside me. Maddox is so big, and his big, sweaty muscles underneath my
palms felt so strong. It would be heaven being dominated by that large man.
My eyes widen when I realize my head is waltzing down slut lane already. I swallow thickly and give
myself a mental slap. Focus, Michelle! I’m not here to get laid!
I pick up the bowl of chips and slam down my butt on the couch. It doesn’t take long until the room is
crowded. The music is louder, and most hot girls are already drunk as I pop chips into my mouth.
I watch them with half-interest, eating chips with one hand down in the bowl until my heart stops.
Thomas Hennington walks in through the door. Tall and muscular, stupidly pretty with black hair and
ice-blue eyes, but I can’t find a soul in their depth when he looks at me.
No, please
Not him
Anyone but him! Shudders crawl up my spine, and fear grips a vise grip on my throat when a smile
curls his lips. He steps past Lionel and hangs up his leather jacket without looking away from me.
I’m rooted to the spot, too frightened to run. Who am I even kidding? Thomas would catch up with me. I
can’t outrun a jock and find it harder to breathe the longer he stares at me.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Thomas is standing on the other side of the coffee table. I think I’m going to be sick. I fear this man. I
hate him. Loathe him and can’t help the discomfort spreading like liquid ice underneath my skin.
“So it’s true then?” Thomas is stepping closer, raking me up and down with vivid curiosity. He looks like
a villain. “Michelle Henriksson have a thing for football players?” he whistles. “Who would have
known?”
It’s a miracle that I find my voice, even though it’s low. “W-what do you want, Thomas?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Thomas grins. “I want you.”
When I stare at him, he lets out a laugh. He shakes his head as if there is a private joke between us
that I have yet to understand.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Michelle. Your tiny screams and the way your body shook when I had
you? Priceless. Irreplaceable. There aren’t many girls who are as helpless and pathetic as you.”
I sink further into the mattress when Thomas walks up to me. I’m terrified of what he might do. He is a
sick man who gets off on screaming and tears.
How can a person be that wrong in the head?!
My heart is pounding and knocking on my chest like a caged animal wanting out. I can’t breathe, and it
gets worse when Thomas suddenly stands before me.
“There is no running away from me anymore, Michelle. It started with me, and it will end with me.
You’re my girl.”
Ice-blue eyes meet mine, and then Thomas grabs my arm. He pulls me up from the couch, and within
seconds, his lips are forced against mine by force while people are whistling and cheering him on
Seriously?! Why are people clapping their hands and shit?! Thate this!
I seems it doesn’t matter how sick you are in the head – if you’re a popular football player, people will
still root for you. Whatever you choose to do, they will be there to whistle. Even if you just forced
yourself on a girl against her will. Now, how do I get out of this situation?
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