October 29

Toronto, Ontario

What a fucking train wreck.

Of course the universe would set out to torture me. Apparently, I wasn't done being a punching bag to forces beyond my control.

When Elle walked out of the bathroom, in that sinful costume painted onto her body, my heart flipped in my chest then settled like a brick in my gut.

The thought of her marching through the party half undressed looking for Vi or Hud to zip her back up drives me mad. The only eyes I want on her body are mine. I also know I have no right to feel this way. Not after I've tried so hard to push her away these past four weeks.

Staring into the big grey-blue eyes looking up at me so full of that cautious trust kicks my wandering thoughts back to the present.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

How could I let myself be so vulnerable with her? I swore I'd keep my distance. I swore I'd stay away.

I won't survive if the universe takes her away from me. Better I keep her at a distance myself. At least that way, she'll still be in the periphery of my life.

She says nothing for a long time, and I know I should pull away from her, but her scent, her heat, and her soft skin make me want to wrap myself up in her like I'd done all summer.

I refuse to be the one to break the silent tension between us. I fight to keep my face a mask of neutrality as the questions and emotions swirl together in her too expressive eyes.

When she starts to bite at her lip nervously, I fight the urge to replace her teeth with my own. I fight the urge to take everything I want from her in this moment.

I slide my hands down to her hips, intending to turn her around and zip the back of her costume up, but she stands her ground.

She levels her eyes with mine before breaking the silence between us.

"If I can't have your love, and if you don't want mine, then fine. You can hate me if it keeps you in my life. I can even try hating you back if you need me to. If that's the only way I can have you, I'll take what I can get. You can decide, Greyson."

Nothing could have shocked me more than those words and need explodes in my gut.

I stumble back as her smaller body leaps up to wrap around mine, and I barely catch her thighs in my hands to find our balance before her lips find mine.

Her kiss is desperate, and I can sense the uncertainty in her every move, even as she continues to push me further away from the edge of reason.

My hands clench against her firm thighs and I boost her higher, then back her against the door of the bedroom. Her nails scrape down the back of my neck, then up into my hair, and I growl at the pleasure of her touch.

"Kiss me back, Greyson. Take what you want."

I'm frozen in place, simply accepting the kiss she drives deeper and deeper, but I can't bring myself to let go. There's too much pent up need for her and I'm worried what I'll do if I let it all out at once.

She doesn't seem to care, though. Her teeth sink into my lower lip and I wince in pain, then nearly groan in pleasure as she drags her tongue over the sore area, soothing it in that smooth, sexy way of hers.

Her hands fist in my hair and she pulls my head back to look down into my face from her position boosted position up my torso. Her legs grip me tightly as she balances against me.

"You have five seconds to decide if you're going to kiss me, or drop me, then I'm leaving this room to find someone to help with this stupid suit whether you like it or not. So decide. Show me what you want."

Her body vibrates with nerves in my arms, undermining her confident demands. Her bluff makes me want to break down and give in. My perfect girl doesn't seem to want anyone ecept me, in spite of everything I've draggrd her through. I'll never fully know why. I'm a fucking disaster. Tonight, I feell ike my own worst enemy, and I'm tired of fighting her. Why should I?

Her fingers tighten in the hair at the back of my head and I watch as she licks her lip slowly and tosses her hair behind her shoulders in a smooth, demanding gesture.

Fuck, I've always had a weakness for her lips. Where is the innocent, tentative girl from the summer? She clearly isn't in the lead tonight.

"Come on, Greyson. You said you don't want my love, so I take it back. You said you don't want to love me, so don't. I'm still here, I'm still yours. What I want to know is: are you still mine?"

My heart pounds against my chest, like it's trying to get closer to hers, and I just stare at her. Yes, yes, yes, my heart screams to her demand, but my mind is reeling.

Elle leans down to brush her lips against mine, whisper soft in a barely there teasing kiss. She quickly follows that with a slow sweep of the tip of her tongue over my bottom lip then kisses her way to across my cheek to my jaw, then the soft, sensitive spot by my ear.

She places a sharp, small bite there, whispering right against the shell of my ear this time. "Three, two, o—"

I yank her head back by her long, soft, flowing hair suddenly filling my hands and twist her face back to mine.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Elle. You might not like what you get. Promise me you won't regret this. Promise me this is what you want. Promise me."

"I promise."

I ignore the shaky uncertainty I hear in her voice. I have the reassurance I selfishly need vocalized, so I finally let myself fall into another one of her demanding kisses, using the door to brace her up against my body so my hands can roam freely over her.

I kiss her with all the built up grief, anger, frustration, and hate I have boiling inside me and it feels amazing to set it all free.

The kiss pulls at the poisonous, toxic cocktail of emotions inside me, and she seems to grow bolder with every wild, drugging kiss.

This isn't the soft, shy girl from summer. Tonight, she's desperate and demanding, and everything I've ever dreamed of, meeting the darkest sides of my desire for her.

With every press of my lips, every stroke of my tongue, every clench of my hands on her body, I can predict her response and it's intoxicating.

I turn quickly, opening my eyes only to see where I'm headed, and take two enormous steps in the bed's direction. Once my knees hit the soft siding, I tip forward and press her into the soft feather duvet, shoving her further up the bed and following her, never breaking contact with her lips and skin.

When she strains against me, tangled in the tight bodice of her catsuit, I tug the shoulders down and kiss my way across her shoulders and chest.

Her whole body shakes as I position my thigh between her legs and press against her, using the friction to drive her crazy as she twists against me, wild under my desperate touch.

This is what I've wanted, what I've needed. The intoxicating feeling of knowing I can bring her to this state of desperate need floods through me, and I revel in it. If everything else in this world is out of my control, then knowing her passion, her response, and even her love is still something I can control turns me on beyond anything I've known.

"Tell me I'm the only one, Elle. Tell me I'm the only one who can make you feel like this." It better be true. Because it sure as fuck seems to be that way for me and I'm not at all sure how I feel about that.

All I know is I crave this power over her. I crave the familiar, predictable response of her body to mine. I crave the knowledge that it's all in my control to affect her.

I drag the black, leather-like material down to her hips, not bothering to be careful with the zipper. I kiss every inch of her, scraping the shadow of my two-day stubbled jaw over her soft skin.

"It's only ever been you. It will always be you." Her words rush out of her as she tries to press closer, but I flip her over underneath me, straddling her hips to unzip the costume so I can peel her out of it, cursing when I notice the small metal closure is completely jammed and off its track.

I grip the fabric in both hands, fully intending to yank it open when the door swings open, sending light flooding into the dark bedroom.

Elle is considerably faster to react than I am, and she quickly rolls to her side as she disentangles herself from my body, gathering the bodice back up to her shoulders as she slides away, then steps completely free of me.

I can't take my eyes off her for a moment, her lips are a deep rosy pink and just a little swollen from our brutal, desperate kisses. Her small, delicate hands clutch the black fabric to her chest and red marks seem to stand out like burns on her pale, delicate skin from my rough treatment of her and all the pleasure from the past however long we've been here turns to a lead ball in my stomach.

How could I have let myself treat her that way? No matter what she said she wanted, I had no right to treat her that way. Not ever. Staring at her now makes me wonder what kind of man I am, and guilt churns heavily in my gut as I pull a deep breath into my burning lungs.

Drunken giggles precede the three girls into the room as they tumble and crash somewhat gracelessly in the direction of the bathroom.

"Ohmygod, Elle! Oh. Oh. My. God. I'm so sorry!"

Mads is the first one to regain her composure and I watch Elle visibly relax as she sees her friends in the doorway.

I relax a little as well. At least this colossal mistake won't lead to more gossip at school. Fuck. How could I have been so stupid? What if Chiara had walked in? Or Max? Or a stranger who doesn't know her?

Even though I knew it was fucked up that I wasn't doing anything about the situation at our schools, I didn't want to add to it. I didn't want to make her life more difficult than it already was. I just wanted to keep my destructive feelings away from her for now. Maybe even for good if I couldn't find that elusive controlled balance again.

Vi and Mads shift a wobbly Jules between them awkwardly. Jules' senses appear dulled and dazed as she looks up and takes in the situation.

"Oh! You're back together! Are you back together? That's the best news. We're happy about that, right? I'm happy about that." She hiccups slightly, trailing off as she mumbles incoherently about Hudson, and stupid boyfriends for a moment. I groan. Of course they would think we were back together.

Elle bites her lip nervously before gathering her composure and turning to her friends at exactly the same time I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Elle's zipper broke, I was just trying to, uh, help her back into that ridiculous costume that might as well be painted on to her."

Mads doesn't look impressed at all. "Right, I'm sure that's exactly what happened. How very gallant of you."

I don't give a shit what Mads thinks. I stalk back towards the balcony door, but Elle grabs my arm as I walk by.

"If you're so concerned about my choice of costume, then you should have asked me to go with you and suggested something else. Since you didn't, you don't get to say a word about it."

I grind my teeth in frustration at Elle and her friend as they stare at me with identical looks of annoyance on their faces over my admittedly rude comment. Not that I'll admit to that one.

Mads moves to stand beside Elle and puts her hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly to look at the damaged zipper. "Damn straight. But this is totally broken, there's no hope for your zipper, hun."

When Vi staggers under Jules' sudden shift in weight, Vi screeches slightly as her friend gags. Mads immediately rushes to help Vi with Jules, tossing a "hang-on" over her shoulder at Elle.

I take this as my opportunity to leave, pulling out of Elle's tentative grip on my arm. "I'll send Hud or Theo in to help you."

I don't look back again, leaving her to deal with her costume, her friends, and their judgement on her own.

- - -

I decided to break this chapter into 2 smaller sizes, because it got away from me with the split POV at 4700 words, so these updates are the two shortest chapters! 

What is your ideal chapter length? I feel like I always struggle to find that balance in the WP universe ;) 

Xx Toria