You can't help but notice that the skirt you're currently wearing was too short to be considered decent, but that's exactly how you want it. It gets you attention, and that's what you live for. You love the feel of everybody's eyes on you, not just because of who your brother is, but also because of how you look. Your blue-black hair is curled to your waist, even though most other girls wear their hair straight, but you aren't like other girls and everyone knows it, even your brother, Tim, who is fiercely protective of you because of it.
You aren't necessarily looking for action tonight, just to turn a few dozen heads. If you get in a fight, you get in a fight. You break up a relationship, you break up a relationship. What will happen is going to happen, no matter what.
You look up at the sky. It's getting dark fast and the skirt you're wearing would probably get you picked up on this side of town, so you decide to go to Buck's. You walk through the door and the eyes closest to the door turn on you. They nudge their neighbors and soon all eyes are on you. Well, almost all. You see Dallas Winston slouching against the bar waiting on a drink as he chats up a busty blond, but you know its all just a show. She's just a plaything, something to keep him occupied until you showed up. Even his refusal to acknowledge your arrival is part of his game. Well you can play games too.
You walk over to the closest guy (a Brumly guy. Kind of scrawny, but cute enough.) and sit down next to him. You take his drink, down the remainder, and shoot him a winning smile. He smiles back and turns his full attention on you. He probably doesn't even recognize you, but that's okay. It'll make it more humorous when Dally comes over to beat his ass.
That happens faster than you had expected. You had only been kissing him for a second when Dallas comes over and rips him off you.
"What the hell do you think you're doin'!" Dally yells more than he askes.
"Woah, Dal, sorry man. I—I didn't know. I swear!" the guy said back. Idiot.
"Well your lucky that I'm feelin' merciful cause if not you wouldn'tof made it home tonight." The guy quickly scurries away, and Dallas turns his cold eyes on you. You shiver, and not because of your short skirt. "The hell were you thinkin' Angela?" You hate it when he calls you by your full name.
"Well, " You begin to run a finger up and down his chest, "I saw you with that blond and I got kinda jealous. You know how I can get…" You trail off.
"Yea," he says, grabbing your wrist, "I know exactly how you can get."
"You think you know me?" You ask. You sling your other arm over his shoulder.
"Everything." His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer.
You lean up. "You don't know the half of it," you say quietly, but firmly.
"Prove me wrong," he responds.
His touch electrifies you in the worse way because it's like an addiction, the more you have, the more you want. Sometimes you crave it in the middle of the night, but thankfully he lives close enough to you that you can just walk over to his house and satiate your desire whenever you need to. Because no mater how hard you try, you can't replicate the pure energy that he gives you, even if he is just playing a game.
It's all just a game, a sick version of cat and mouse where the roles constantly change. Sometimes it was you he chased, while other times it was you doing the chasing, and you both loved it. It kept it interesting. The two of you fight for dominance because neither of you would ever back down.
You had heard that he and Sylvia had recently had a fling, but you were better than Sylvia. She was a child, a whiny, needy child. Sure, she could play games, but you played better. That's why you and Dallas were…whatever this was. Sylvia wouldn't be a problem. She was more of a plaything than you were, an appetizer to the main course, something to fool around with until you came, but you couldn't let her get to you. You couldn't let her spoil your time with Dallas.
"Why don't we head upstairs?" You ask as you play with the hair on the back of his neck.
His hands slide down your back. "You read my mind." He retreats backwards to the stairs and you follow.
You reach his room at the same time as him. He turns around and grabs the hair on the back of your head and pulls your body flush to his. He always plays rough. You grab his shirt in your fists and slam him against the wall. He won't admit it, but you know he loves it when you take control. You press yourself against him and attack his neck, moving up to his ear. You bite and lick as your hands go under his shirt and claw down his chest. His hands go under your skirt and he realizes that you don't have anything on under it. You just know he's smirking and it kind of pisses you off, so you wiggle your fingers into the waistband of his pants, teasing him. His hands slide to the lips and you marvel at just how wet you are. His fingers pet and tease you while you do the same to him.
He suddenly stops, yanking his hands away. He quickly opens the door and yanks you in. You comply and he quickly shuts the door. You walk over to the bed, but don't sit down. He comes over to you and pushes you on to it. He grabs your thighs and spreads your legs before his hands gently prod and stroke you. He grabs the hems on your shirt in his teeth and pulls it off you. His tongue licks your neck, your chest, and then moves down your stomach where it flicks into your bellybutton. It sends a tremor through you, and you know this was his plan. His mouth replaces his hands, which are now moving to your knees. He pulls them up and over his shoulders. His mouth stops his tantalizing abuse so he can pull off your skirt.
You sit up and take off his shirt. You push him down onto the bed and he snarls curses at you. You straddle just above his hips backwards and begin working on his pants. His hands are moving up and down your back, squeezing at irregular intervals. You know he's trying to regain control and it feels so good that you give in.
He flips you over on to the bed, and grabs your legs. He stretches them over you head to where they are parallel to your torso. He spreads them slightly before he inserts two fingers.
Suddenly, the door flies open and strings of curses fill the room. You instantly turn to the door. It's Tim.
"Oh shit," you and Dally say at the same time.