SOCIAL NIGHT (Pt.2)

18 + (mature content)

I ran.

I ran for my life.

I ran for my sanity.

I ran because I wanted it just as bad as he offered it.

But there was only one problem.

Senior Douglas.

He was the problem.

He was the drama.

He was the danger.

That made me terrified.

But also made me so… hot.

“My tongue and knees call for you.”

His words tasted just as sweet as his tongue between my legs.

I hadn’t felt it.

But my dreams did.

And also the pages of Senior Douglas’ touch in Christian Grey’s body.

His kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips coaxing mine. I moan, and my tongue tentatively meets his. He puts his arms around me and hauls me against his body, squeezing me tightly. One hand remains in my hair, the other travels down my spine to my waist and down to my behind. His hand flexes over my backside and squeezes gently. He hold me against his hips, and I feel his erection, which he languidly pushes into me.

I dropped the book and let out a gasp, staring up at the metal bunk above me.

Something wet had slipped out of me.

For the first time reading these pages of Fifty Shades of Grey, it wasn’t a fictional Christian Grey filling my mind.

It was him. The militant terrorizing my mind.

I had reread the same Chapter 8 over and over again just to pull myself out of Senior Douglas’ hold, convincing myself that the more I thought about him through these pages, the more bored I would become of my imaginations. But his touch never wore off and I found myself craving more and more of him with each new imagination.

“Fuck me.” I cursed myself.

***

It was another Friday evening of the SS1 vs SS2 boys match, and the SS2 girls had made it their mission to drag every SS1 girl out to the field to watch our set boys “lose” the match. After all, their honourable “Commando” was going to send them packing to the grave.

As I stood by the football field, it wasn’t just the scorching sun, or the unnecessary screams around me, or the fact that I could have spent my better two hours reading a book that annoyed me.

It was the fact that he was the centre of everyone’s world right now. Including mine.

Since the last social night, I had avoided any path that would make me cross Senior Douglas. From the dining hall to the SS2 block to even the old French classroom. I avoided even his shadows.

I was scared. Anxious. Confused of what it would feel like to see him again after his last confession.

He stood out from all the boys on the football pitch. Not just because of his charcoal skin or the fact that he scored enough goals to make the SS2 girls scream his name more than they did for Korede Bello, but because of that annoying Yellow House jersey. It made him nearly impossible to miss.

I did all I could not to look his way, but he was all I could see on that pitch.

The only thing my five senses could be drawn to. Him and nothing else.

Before the coach blew the whistle for the start of the second half, the players on the pitch stood around, waiting.

Once again, my eyes caught Senior Douglas at the left end of the pitch.

His eyes met mine, holding still for a brief moment.

I quickly looked away, waving my hand across my face like I was chasing a fly away.

Slowly, I looked back at him.

He was bent forward this time, taking off his yellow jersey.

I knew I should have looked away.

My mind screamed against it but my body called for it.

The screams of the girls around me faded into a distance as I watched him completely take off his jersey.

His bare shoulders stood broad, the corners of his sweaty biceps flexed as he slid his shirt off his arm. I held my breath, my eyes mistakenly falling to the little trail of hair below his chiseled abs. God, save me.

My eyes flew back up, only to find him staring right at me. He bit his bottom lip, tossing his jersey aside. A JSS1 boy hurried to pick it up just as the coach blew the whistle for the second half.

Senior Douglas raised a brow at me, almost like he’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t have. Then someone called his name from the pitch and passed the ball his way. He finally looked away, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he took off after the ball, slipping right back into the game.

Shit.

I turned away.

I had been caught.

The only thing left for me to do now was stop doing what I knew I shouldn’t.

With him.