It's 2AM for Lolly. Editing this is NOT pretty. It's so hard, in fact, that I've had to get help from Gen Ken. Thanks for helping me with the hotness factor, Emily.
But here we are. Gah.
Love Lolly and Hayley.
- 8 -
Leave it up to the school to be too cheap to have a back-up power source. One little lightning strike and ZAP. The power's out.
Suze jumped a little, causing our noses to collide. It was only then, I realized, how close we really were. And suddenly, I wasn't so mad at her anymore.
Why was I angry again? Something about uniforms . . . jeez, that was stupid. I couldn't be mad at someone who I now had the prime opportunity to screw stupid.
I mean, COME ON. It was DARK. Well, not completely because of the glow coming from behind the blinds. It was still a little light outside.
But that was the mood lighting. And there was sound effects, too. The sound of the wet, wet rain pouring on the roof of the athletic building made me h – well . . .
Never mind.
The lights may have been turned off, but I was turned on.
My hands automatically moved to the sides of Suze's face as I brought her closer to me. I looked down on her, and my breath became kind of ragged. Lustfully so.
I swear, sometimes its embarrassing how I let my urges get the best of me. Sometimes being the operative word there. More often than not, I know exactly what I'm doing that'll drive her crazy.
If my heart was pounding before, it was pounding like HELL then. I started breathing in fast, most of the time air that had come straight from him. Because he was THAT close.
All of a sudden, the whole in-the-dark scenario got a gazillion times scarier. Because, well, to the best of my knowledge . . . Paul pretty much hated me at the moment.
I mean, not that he'd try to KILL me - been there, done that, pfft - but . . . I don't know. All I knew was, I was scared out of my mind. The rain from behind the dark windows was getting even louder.
'Get away from me,' I warned Paul, in what was MEANT to be a commanding, all powerful voice. It turned out kind of high and freaked-out, though.
Stupid voice. So irresponsible. Honestly.
My blood was pumping hotter than before. His closeness made me get very warm indeed. And his hands on the sides of my face were not moving from their positions.
God, SORRY about the shirt thing. JEEZ.
And the, uhhhhh, punching-you thing. Nothing personal.
With one last deep breath, my arms tensed, and I made a VERY brave attempt to shove him away from me.
Just, er . . . "attempt" is the word.
Why does she always DO that? The pushing away thing, I mean. Doesn't she realize that pushing me away will only draw me closer?
Obviously not. She wasn't very prepared when I grabbed her arms and pushed her back against the wall. She let out a small moan.
There's going to be a lot more where THAT came from, Suze, if only you'd entertain the idea.
Her head was tilted upward against the wall. Beneath me, I could feel her breathing deeply. I grazed the back of my finger against the top edge of her turtle-neck.
'This would be a lot easier if you had worn the proper uniform, Suze,' Isaid, my voice lowering. 'It takes effort to get around this turtle-neck, you know.'
I breathed in sharply. My stomach, about then, completely dropped. No, like really. It was vanquished, sent straight to hell. I felt sick, but in a very good way.
He was UNBELIEVEABLE. 'You just said you wanted nothing to DO with me!' I shrilled at him, still in that high voice. My forehead was really, really hot. That fever I faked yesterday? I think I was getting one.
Only, this was Paul-Slater induced.
The feeling of his fingers on my skin was one of absolutely no mercy. The sensitivity of my flesh was disgustingly strong. Didn't he REALIZE what he did to me?
Wait. Of course he did.
'Oh, that,' I said, cracking a smile, 'Well, I lied. I'm a terrible liar. But there are other things I'm not so terrible at.'
I pulled the edge of her turtleneck down, revealing a good part of her neck. I planted a small warm-up kiss there. I heard her gasp, which was sort of an indicator for me to continue. Which I did so, willingly.
But the stupid collar was in the way. I had to keep pushing it down as I was kissing her. It would have ruined the moment, if I hadn't accidentally stretched the damn thing a little past her shoulder. My hand accidentally grazed the top of her bra-strap.
Maybe I don't hate turtlenecks as much anymore.
I felt like crying. No, I really did. Because - you just can't IGNORE something like that. You can't ignore the sudden passion that courses through your entire body like acid - the molten passion slowly burning you up, the fire/ice sensations that freeze your blood, and how it renders you completely immobile; a slave to this pleasure.
I was trembling from the vehement feelings that affected me so unforgivingly.
A freaky noise came from me, as he pulled the stretchy material of my top down. It was restricting the other side of my neck, but God, I don't thing either of us CARED. His hand was on my shoulder, and he was still kissing my neck with excruciating slowness. Where ever his lips made contact with my skin, I felt like they'd suffered third degree burns.
Only in a good way.
Which, you know, doesn't exactly work out. But by God, that's what it felt like . . .
I couldn't say anything. I wanted him to stop. I DIDN'T want him to, though. I mean - this whole thing was WRONG. I should NOT have been kissing him! Jesse knew about us now. I'd heard the hurt in his voice with my own ears.
Why wasn't THAT enough to stop me from doing this?
Am I THAT sinful? God, I didn't get WHY Paul's kisses felt so good when they were obviously so wrong.
Part of me really thought that maybe this time she would give up and give in. She more than enjoyed it, and I could tell.
The sounds that were coming from her? Yeah, they weren't exactly "Stop, Paul, stop". They were more like impassioned groans. The kind that occur when one is receiving mass quantities of pleasure. The kind that tends to set the givers of said pleasure off the hormonal deep end.
Her hand went to my chest, but not dismissively. Or, if it was, I didn't catch on. I continued on, leaving a trail of kisses along the smooth nape of her neck.
God . . . why?
One of my hands found the point where the bottom of her shirt and the top of her skirt met, where my fingertips teased her skin underneath. God, it felt so good to be in control. It felt so good now that I finally had her . . .
My head hurt from thinking about how nice this felt. I was dizzy from the burden of immorality that hung over me. The air I breathed hurt my lungs. I felt like I didn't even want to be breathing anymore. I shut my eyes, hard, and tried that little bit harder to ignore what he was making me feel.
But no go. I was a pleasure junkie; an addict.
His lips were so light that they were tantalizing, and they felt so good . . .
My little neck-kissing fest went on for a good long time. It wasn't until my hand just accidentally found itself shoved halfway up her back, heading for the hooks to her bra, when she decided to make an objection. Not a very pleasant one, either . . .
No - no . . . Suze, come on . . . baaaaaaad - SUZE STOP IT YOU SLUT!
With a sharp breath, I violently shoved him away. He fell back from me, looking astonished that I'd got him THAT far away, THAT suddenly. 'DON'T,' I snapped, breathing hard. 'Don't do this again, I - I can't do this anymore, Paul, so just d - '
Not AGAIN.
It didn't make sense how she could let me do these things – things she obviously loved – and then push me away and ask me not to do them. It was all right for her to do THAT, but not all right for me to give her the time of her life?
She's got to be kidding herself. She IS kidding herself.
'Suze, please,' I groaned. 'Save it. You can't keep doing this to me.'
'YOU can't keep doing this to ME!' I said in a high voice, 'So just - stop it now, okay? No more. Agreed? Because this is,' I looked around at the situation. These kisses are, 'making me insane.' What, did he want me to DIE YOUNG or something? From the STRESS? God knew GHOSTS would end up killing me!
But nooooooo. He wanted me to die from stress, because he REFUSED to stop harassing me (which I may or may not enjoy horrendously.)
I found her spiel kind of funny, actually.
'What is it, exactly, that I'm doing to you, then?' I inquired with a smirk. Is it possible to say "providing me with mind shattering pleasure" without making it sound good? I closed in the space that Suze had created by pushing me earlier with a few great strides. We were practically nose-to-nose again.
She never quite specified what 'this' was.
He moved back up close to me, and again, it was hard to breathe.
'Screwing up my life,' I said in what could probably only be classified as a whimper. Wow, Suze, you're not pathetic . . . cough.
Likely story. Not. I knew there HAD to be something else . . .
'It was just a kiss,' I pointed out to her, 'how does that screw up your life?'
I looked away . . .
He knew, and I knew. But God, if I admitted it, there was NO going back.
Another crack of thunder made me jump.
'I get it,' I resolved aloud. 'My kisses make you feel something. Something that, ultimately, compromises your relationship with Rico Suave. My kisses make you want me, not him.'
'Shut up,' I retorted acidly, 'That's not tr - '
'Bull. That's COMPLETELY true. I have a greater effect on you than you'd like to admit, Suze. But you don't have to. Because I already know.' I moved in closer, hovering my mouth only about an inch from her and said, 'And besides, Suze. I can do whatever the hell I want.'
A ruthless shiver claimed me then, and . . . erm, certain things were happening to me that once again, I care not to mention as they would only serve to disgust. But what he said had scared me. Because I knew that he could, and I'd probably end up loving it too much to tell him to stop.
Kissing, I mean, guys. Kissing.
To prove my point, instead of kissing her there like she would expect, I found myself grabbing a hold of her hips, grasping her towards me, I released one of my hands, and with it, vigorously swept the area of the closest desk – Mr Thompson's – clear. I then proceeded to lift Suze up the small bit, and pushed her down, so she lay there quite helplessly as I held her down with my arms. Just touching her skin made me want her. Want her almost as much as hate her for what she was doing to me. I felt like I had finally conquered the one thing I had wanted most.
WHY now am I reminded by that pick-up line, "If you were my homework I'd do you on the table"?
I wonder.
'Paul - !' What the HELL was he DOING?
A phenomenal rush of thrill blinded me.
I was on my back, on a hard surface, and Paul had crawled on top of me.
And I LIKED it.
Oh, it wasn't sweet. It wasn't pretty. It didn't feel a little tingly. It was ugly, raw, almost painful. But I craved it. A carnal thing in me wanted mooooore . . .
But I didn't give her another chance to object. I claimed her lips with my own forcefully, leaning the rest of my body on hers and kind of pushing her into the desk beneath us.
WHY did he DO this? This wasn't FAIR. I didn't WANT him to do this! Well - I did, but that wasn't the POINT. It was WRONG. And I asked him NOT to, so he should have respected my wishes enough to - oh God . . .
How - how did he KISS like that?
I couldn't stop. She just felt way too good underneath me. She wanted this as much as I did.
My hands went to his hair. I could feel him in every nerve of my body. He was in my system. I gasped, and prayed to God that he'd still kinda let me in heaven after this whole thing. I held him against me, and admittedly, yes, one of my legs kind of curled around one of his.
But pretend you didn't read that. That is both eww and whoa.
I won't even MENTION the state of certain other parts of my body.
. . . My, um, toes, of course.
My very blood seemed to be screaming out for him. Poison running through my veins. His hands were touching me, and were triggering such thrill that I could barely contain it. These feelings were like tiny explosions in my skin cells. I craved him. Craved what he did to me, and the deadly effect he had on my, physically.
And, as if the good Lord FINALLY decided to answer my prayers, she actually responded. Her fingers entwined in my hair, sending a wave of something through my head.
It's amazing how easy it was for me to get caught up in the moment with her. One minute, I'm listening to her pleas for me to stop, and the next I'm forcing myself on her again. Only, I wasn't taking over by complete force because she was reciprocating my actions.
You know, kissing me with the same fervor I was kissing her with. And, Jesus, it felt good.
More than good. I couldn't even find a word to tell you how great it was. God, I still couldn't understand how someone like her could be so blind. She said she hated me. And yet she does THIS?
Is she stupid?
. . . Ha, no. Just fricking kidding herself.
It made me crazy. Just the fact that I had her so deeply in this warped trap of passion, and she STILL wouldn't admit it, even though all the evidence pointed to it.
'It' you ask?
Go figure.
My lips were number than I think they'd ever been. I paused in my reciprocation, desperate for air that I had not received for a long time. My head span, and I panted, my eyes jammed shut. Even in the dark, I could see his eyes dimly, and I didn't WANT to. I felt to low to look him in the eye. God knows what he thought of me.
Her lips were addictive. How could I take it slowly when I was caught and wanted so much more?
Why did he have to AFFECT me like that, though? God, I might have shown a shred more DECENCY if he didn't wasn't such a freakin' good kisser. He knew every way to make me shiver.
And God, we were just KISSING.
I dragged my mouth from hers to the soft skin of her face. It felt so good, and so out of bounds. My lips reached her jaw, and she quaked beneath me. And of course, I loved to hit every sensitive spot she had until she was once again, begging me to stop. That's when I truly knew I'd hit home.
I took her earlobe between my teeth, and the coveted, 'Paul – Paul, please, don't – ' came right on cue.
I tried to twist away. How could things like that be ALLOWED? They felt so WRONG. Oh God, oh God, oh God . . .
She was squirming underneath me. I placed a hand on each of her hips, and pressed down heavily enough so she couldn't move. Then, with my left hand, I slid it up her leg slowly. Well, as slowly as a guy who is fully turned on.
How is it that passion can overload so much that the mind can just stop functioning?
I mean - it did. I wasn't thinking.
That was until, of course, I felt his hand slide up my outer thigh, making me shiver horribly, and sending all the warning bells in my head off like you wouldn't believe. His hand on the skin there was - I can't even begin to describe it. All I knew was that it was making me get even more scared, more crazy, and more turned on.
But - HELLO? BAD? THIGH!
God, he ALWAYS goes too far, doesn't he!
Okay, so I went a little over board. But that did NOT give her the liberty to totally roll out from underneath me and tear off. I mean, how was she even able to DO that? I had her completely secured to the desk with my body, and my hand had a nice grip on her thigh.
God, that girl is strong.
I freaked. I did. Probably the reason why I elbowed him, got out from under him, and ran in horror out of the door. Did he want - THAT? No, I mean, like - you know, THAT.
I shoved the door open, and once again, the roar of rain met my ears, and the wave of chilling cold made me freeze. So it was a little, um, wet . . . I'd deal, right? I'm a big girl.
I started running when I tripped on something.
A freaking tennis racket.
Scowling, and terrified, I picked it up, and turned back around, my heart going faster than it had ever gone. The thunder was more frequent, meaning, it was closer. And the lightning was literally striking just out at sea, as in, VERY near to here.
Ooooooh, shit.
I raced to follow her outside (what else is a guy to do with raging hormones and an obstinate girl on their hands?), where the storm was raging. You know, kind of like our passion was earlier, only a hell of a lot bigger because 1) it was nature and 2) Susannah Simon refuses to give in to anything pleasurable unless it deals with her dead boyfriend who, let's face it, is EXTREMELY old fashioned and would never do anything I'd dare to do to her.
Damn. No wonder she always comes to me.
I spun around, as rain started to get my hair wet, and plaster my fringe against my forehead. Let me say, that looks HIGHLY eww, but you get that.
A fiery, bitter cold dread washed over me when I saw him standing at the P.E. office door for a second, and then run out to me.
God, why wouldn't he just leave me ALONE? Why did he DO this to me? It wasn't FAIR.
Why couldn't he just stay away so there never WAS the urge to, you know, reciprocate to his very, very, VERY hot kisses.
The cold rain was chilling me, and an almighty rumble of thunder made me flinch.
He came closer through the rain. 'God, just - just stay AWAY from me!' I begged him. 'Please!'
'C'mon, Suze,' I replied, wiping rain drops off my brow, 'It's just for fun. Like Tennis. America's new favorite pastime.'
There was a loud, thunderous boom that seemed to make everything shake, even Suze.
Or, was she just shaking because of me?
He KISSED me just for FUN?
Thunder or not, I still managed a smile. What she might not have realized, but what I relished secretly, was the fact that her tennis whites (and that ungodly turtleneck) was completely soaked and see-through.
Oh, goodie . . .
Brings a new meaning to that movie, huh? What Lies Beneath?
Ahem.
'I don't CARE what you find FUN,' I spat at him, water traveling around my lips and getting in my mouth. The rain was completely falling hard, and the lightning was totally forked, and was kind of freakishly too close for comfort. 'I don't WANT to have fun anymore. Not THAT kind of fun. I don't even want TENNIS anymore, okay? I thought that maybe since I did enjoy it, that would make up for the
fact that YOU were teaching it. Obviously, I was very mistaken. So to sum up, Paul, please go off and have fun that doesn't involve me anymore. Because I'm sick of it. I really am.'
He had no idea how it made me FEEL. (Okay, I'm pretty sure that when I was gasping and breathing hard, he got an indication.) But I don't mean that. Just . . . the GUILT. It was tearing me apart.
What he was DOING to me and JESSE.
And it was all his FUN?
I felt sick.
Rain poured - if possible - even harder, and it was getting near impossible to just STAND there. The droplets felt like ice marbles being thrown 40mph down at my skin. Any harder, and I'd be pierced.
He took a step toward me, but immediately I moved back. 'No,' I said with a violent shiver. 'Paul, don't.'
I didn't exactly know how I was going to get HOME. I sure as hell wasn't stepping in HIS car. The rain was hurting. Why was I just STANDING there?
I ignored the rain as it was beating hard at my back. I also ignored Suze's little plea because I knew she really didn't mean it. How could she? I'm Paul Slater. What's there not to like, hmm?
'I don't see why you have a problem with me,' I said, twisting a strand of her wet hair in my fingers. 'I'm harmless. This is harmless. It doesn't have to hurt you and Jesse's relationship, you see? This would be completely painless if you just forgot about him already.'
Shaking, and so, so scared, I shook my head. My hair was around his fingers. God, what I would have given for his hands to be in my hair - WHICH WAS FREAKING WET NOW, THANKS TO THE FREAKING RAIN. 'What the hell? How can I have a relationship with him if you want me to forget him?'
Self-contradictor much?
I leaned in really close to her ear and said, my lips forming the words over her ear, 'My point exactly.'
I felt her go completely rigid. I was close enough to note that, even if it were cold and wet, Suze still radiated a bit of body heat. I wanted to soak it in for all I could because it was kind of cold. Kind of REALLY cold.
If the heat ran out, well then we could always generate more. They say getting hot-and-heavy does that.
Hey . . . I wonder what it's like in the rain?
With a pained gasp, I twisted away from him, my teeth now chattering dangerously. I hugged my arms around myself, still holding the racket. The merciless frost and the sub-zero rain drops were totally plotting to do me in. 'I don't get WHY,' I responded, trying to raise my voice over the noise. 'WHY? Why's this so important to you? Screwing up everything for me, I mean?'
Did he ENJOY trying to break up what had been a good thing?
Had been, Suze?
Are you so definite that it's past tense?
Oh, GOD, why was he DOING this? Why couldn't he just HOP back to his STINKING Sleepless in Seattle and go SCREW himself? Why did he have to mess with me like this? Was he THAT much of a sociopath, or a sadist, or WHATEVER he was?
'Because,' I replied, running a hand through my hair. God, I was soaked. And so was she, but she didn't seem to notice or care that I could see her bra, even through that cotton force-field of a turtleneck. 'Because it's not really breaking your relationship up that matters to me. Albeit, it's helpful, but I don't want it. I want YOU.'
I shivered that bit harder . . .
Oh, God.
She stared up at me, her eyes wide-looking since her hair was plastered to her face, and stopped hugging her arms around herself for a moment.
Whoa, nice bra. No wonder I couldn't find the hook earlier. Hers hooked in the front.
Mmm. Convenient.
I took the opportunity (for it seldom knocks twice . . . by now it's been pounding on my door for days) and brought one of my hands to the small of her back and pushed her closer to me just a little. I could hear the wind as it swirled all around us. I wanted this so bad . . .
The brutal desire to just give IN was almost overwhelming. I felt like crying from the urgency to admit defeat, and let him have me how he wanted. In an atmosphere that was so damned cold, he was the only thing that was keeping me warm. Oh, I still shivered. And my teeth still chattered. And I was still soaked.
But there's me, totally kicking butt and fighting it.
I started whacking him with the tennis racket. And it was metal-rimmed. Hehehe. I'm pretty sure that it HURT.
Uh, well THAT made me let go in a hurry.
'What – ow – Suze, stop it, God, don't be – '
'I asked YOU to stop it!' I smacked his shoulder angrily, and then his head. 'But you didn't, so I guess the word "stop" is completely useless on each other, right?'
Again, he tried to grab my arm, but I totally started thumping his fingers with my racket, and he jerked right away. Oooh, what fun. This could become America's second favourite pastime. His face was streaked with water, and his top – white – was totally transparent.
I wonder if mine w –
Although, it was at that moment when a branch of pure electricity, also known as um, LIGHTNING, kind of totally completely zapped out of the sky.
'Suze!' I yelled in horror. God, was she STUPID? Holding a METAL RACKET in a THUNDER STORM?
Needless to say, a split second after her hand was illuminated, she went flying about five feet, and skidded across the very, very wet pavement.
. . . Unmoving.