Chapter 58

That night, I rest in my bed, desperately trying to keep my thoughts under wraps. In the quiet, I cannot help from remembering Archer’s breathy whisper.

You’re mine.

He is a raving, arrogant asshole who does not deserve my late night thoughts, let alone my desires. But my body unfortunately has a mind of its own.

I am an idiot. He was only claiming me as his property, not in any kind of romantic or sexual way. He even said before, I own you. This is just a dressed-up version of that.

Yet despite all this, my body burns hot with memories of him and his bare muscled chest, arms flexing as he pumped iron.

Or, God help me, the way he had that girl bent over the bench in his room. The way he smacked her ass, the things he said…

They shouldn’t have been sexy. I never had sex but I can’t imagine being that rough could feel good, despite the girl’s wanton reactions.

And Asher’s words…

You like that slut?

Such vulgarity, such depravity.

You’re mine.

I press my thighs together. My panties were wet.

And his kiss…

I can practically still feel that masterful tongue probing my mouth.

Ug! I chide myself and turned over in my bed. I was not going to touch myself while thinking of Archer. I absolutely refuse.

He’s attractive. There’s no denying that. So a certain level of desire is only natural. But I don’t care how much my body wants him, I will not lower myself to rub one out thinking about a guy who hates me. I have some goddamn self-respect.

Plus, I hate him too!

Wait, hate-fucking is a thing, isn’t it?

“Oh my God, me,” I grumble and press my palms into my eyes.

This is absolutely ridiculous. I hate my lust-addled brain, and the way it not-so-helpfully imagines me as that woman tied over Archer’s bench. A downright embarrassing fantasy.

From our kiss, I know damned well how talented Archer is with his tongue. To have his mouth, that tongue, on parts of me that no other person has touched, has me shifting on my sheets.

I toss and I turn. I refuse to give in.

I will tie myself up before I’ll let me touch myself.

That girl was tied up too.

Abruptly, I sit up in bed. Maybe what I need is a walk. Or a cold shower. Or a long walk off a short pier to end my miserable existence.

My bare feet press onto the cool floor, and it’s a relief against my too-warm skin.

In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. Yet, after drying off with a towel, my face remains flush as I look in the mirror.

I’ve never been an overtly sexual person. Granted, that’s mainly because I’ve never had many options. I still don’t, really. But being around these four overly-attractive brothers is doing something to my body.

I am coming alive in ways that I don’t fully understand or particularly appreciate. I don’t want or need to be hot for four guys who consistently treat me like shit. Like I’m a commodity to be used and discarded, rather than a person.

Yet here I am, with thoughts of Archer making my pussy damp with want.

Who’s the slut after all? It’s me.

I press my face in my towel to muffle the sound of my frustrated groan.

By the time I come out of the bathroom, I hear Mia begin to stir and fuss, and I’m instantly relieved for the distraction. When I’m with Mia, I can give her all of my attention and all of my thoughts, and get my body back under control.

Until tonight, anyway, when I imagine a similar torture will be waiting for me.

Thanks, brain.

I am even more relieved later, to be able to leave the Pyramid and go to class. However, my good mood crumbles when outside the lecture hall, I hear the telltale sounds of a scuffle.

“Stop! Eh, stop!” A whimpering male voice is broken with grunts and the thuds of fists and kicks to flesh.

Rushing, I follow the sounds of the fight to an alleyway that runs alongside the building. Two men are beating down on a cowering third. The man on the ground has his arms raised, shielding his head. His knees are close to his chest, protecting his vital organs.

I should walk away. This beat-down has nothing to do with me, and for all I know, this guy could deserve it.

Not to mention, the Hayes brothers would absolutely hate it if I inserted myself into any more fights. And though their opinion on the matter isn’t the most important to me, I should probably still think twice before I stoke their ire.

The guy on the ground peeks open his eyes and sees me. He reaches out. “Help… please…”

He really is pathetic, bruised and crying. His glasses have fallen off his nose. One of the attackers steps on them, smashing them under his heel.

Then, the attacker laughs. That’s what finally breaks me.

I really hate bullies.

I throw myself forward. It’s two against one, and they are bigger than me. But I have the element of surprise on my side.

That, and some actual skill at grappling.

I catch the first guy right in the nose with my elbow. He stumbles backwards, startled.

The second one looks up, eyes wide, and I knee him in the groin. It’s not my most glamourous move, but when outnumbered and outmatched, girls from Greendale know not to play fair.

He grips himself and falls down onto the concrete. In that time, the first guy recovers and makes a move for me. I duck out of the way of his arm. He’s slow and untrained. Likely, these two weren’t expecting to face someone who would actually fight back.

I dip a second time away from his clumsy grasp, and deliver a solid punch to his stomach. He growls, and flings his arm back. I miss most of his backswing, but the edge of his knuckles catches me on the jaw.

It’s not enough to throw me off balance, but I certainly feel it. If I’m unlucky – and my luck has sure been shit lately – that spot is going to bruise.

The guy laughs, like he thinks he caught me. With him distracted, I jump for him and punch him straight in the throat.

His hands go to his neck and he falls back against the opposing wall. His eyes are a bit glassy. That really must have hurt.

By now, the second guy has hobbled up onto his feet again. He makes for the first guy and tugs his arm.

“This bitch is crazy. Let’s get out of here.”

“But that other brat –”

“Knows we’ll be back. His little bitch girl can’t protect him forever.”

“Call me that again!” I snap.

The second guy glares at me. “Bitch girl.”

I start for him, and his hands immediately move to cover his crotch. I suddenly stop to laugh at him.

Growling, he grabs the first guy and drags him from the alley. I watch until they disappear around the corner, then turn my attention to the man starting to uncurl himself on the ground.

“Can you stand?” I ask him.

He nods, but doesn’t try to yet. Instead he pulls himself into sitting upright. He picks up his glasses, but the lens have shattered and the frames are hanging on by a thread.

Now that I have a better look at the guy, I recognize him from some of my classes. I can’t quite place the name. Some kind of ocean term I think. Wave or Shell or Sand…

“What’s your name?” Easier just to ask.

“Tide.” He sighs and rubs his forehead.

I nudge my chin toward the alleyway entrance. “What did those guys want with you?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a long story.”

“I just saved your ass, so it better be a good one.”

“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just…” He looks at me and blinks. “Ouch. Does that hurt?” He points at the edge of my jaw, where that guy got a piece of me.

I touch it and wince. It is a bit tender.

But wait – how bad does it have to be for this guy to see it without his glasses?

My stomach drops.