School Me

Dainy

It's after eight. I’m in my room staring at the clock stuck to my bathroom door wishing the damn thing would just stop moving. Reagan is going to be here any minute and I can't seem to stop this swirling feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Nothing today has gone the way I wanted it to. What does that say about the year? Will my entire year be based on today? Am I now jinxed because I am feeling unlucky? I’ve wasted hours doing absolutely everything to prepare for this talk with Reagan and have accomplished nothing, nix, nada, zilch. I'm still in the same clothes that he saw me with earlier with practically half my wardrobe scattered across the cream carpet, making my room look as if it was ransacked. Which technically it is, by mwah (me). My parents came home late afternoon, much later than Aiden and I anticipated. They were surprisingly quiet which I am taking as a great sign, no news is always great in the Hallow mansion. Once our painful dinner where Aiden and dad ignore each other while talking to momma and I was over, I couldn't get away fast enough. I needed time to think. I needed time to plan what I was going to say to Reagan so I muted my phone and locked myself in my bedroom, then I started rummaging through my wardrobe in search for the perfect outfit. I didn't get far, because it was just one of those days where nothing would do. So I ran a bath and took out a black shorts and grey tee which evidently I didn't even put on. After relaxing in my jet stream bath tub for over an hour my body was like a shriveled prune, but nothing as bad as the dried-out knot in my stomach. Hours wasted and still, I had no idea what to say to Reagan. Today when I saw his black messy hair and those blue eyes. Gosh, I wanted to just get swallowed into an endless fall. The guy was my wet dream on sticks. But really thick and muscular sticks. I groan at my dirty mind, I'm so screwed. Looking around my untidy bedroom I jump off my bed to pick up the discarded clothes from the carpet. Once I have a good size bundle, I throw it into the green colored walk in closet. I'm a little bit of a slob, sue me. Suzanne our housekeeper will sort it out tomorrow. I do a quick scan around the shaded mixtures of light pastel green decor with yellow cotton bedding and matching blinds. Unlike most girls I’ve never went through the pink phase. The pastels and lime cushions that decorate my bed is just enough color to say ‘girls' room.' I might be head cheerleader but I'm not the sweet valley girl next-door. I'm the girl that will smash your ride with an axe because a baseball bat is just too small dealings for me to get my message across. Grabbing my tennis shoes from the side of my bed I toss them into the bathroom knowing that Reagan is the complete opposite of me. Where my room only stays clean for the duration of my stay at school, Reagan’s room s***h pad stays dirty, well never. I've seen his place twice and both times it was immaculate. One of those times I dropped a chip on his floor and picked it up to throw it away. When I got to the trash bin, I just ate it, because the bin didn't look like it ever had dirt in it and his kitchen was so clean it made my chip feel dirty so I just shoved it into my mouth, it didn't taste all that bad. I'm mid-way to my bed when I stop what I'm doing. The led-light taking up half of the wall by my bedroom door goes on. I spin around knowing what or more accurately who I am going to find. My stomach sinks twenty miles per hour when I face him. The guy just won't stop being gorgeous. He’s wearing a dark blue t-shirt stretching across his broad chest and making his hooded blue eyes look dangerous. Or maybe that's just my imagination, but those running shorts that fill out his thick legs are definitely very real. Yum. I walk leisurely across the room to lock the door. The sound of the key turning increases my breathing. Sober and alone with Reagan Orniel, isn't the smartest of ideas I've had in my almost seventeen years but neither was last night. Taking one last breath, I turn to face him, only to find his back is to me as he closes the window. I can't help it, I drool over his toned rounded a*s. Reagan's over six-foot frame straightens before his smooth form turns toward me. With languid strides he makes up the distance between us. “Hey,” he says. The grin on his face widens as the space between us closes. His confidence, evident in his quick strides. Lucky for me, I have a big room because I’m enjoying the view. “Hey yourself.” My voice is all breathy, damn, even my heart is beating racing. Is this me now? One night of painful yet great s*x and I'm now one of the many ‘Reagan crazed bimbos’. I need to get with the memo. I am not one of Reagan’s w****s. I am not just another lay, wait- Is that what he wants to tell me?! My thoughts run miles a minute, before I know it, he’s standing right in front of me. I inhale his cologne and hints of that strong musky shower gel he likes. My body is taking its sweet time to respond to my brain and before I even catch up Reagan’s big hands wrap around my waist as his eyes focus on my lips causing me to lick them. His nostrils flare and it's like Reagan’s control snaps, as I am given no warning before he bends down and kisses me. Catching my top lip between his front teeth at the same time he pushes his hips into my stomach. I moan. His mouth on mine is demanding entry and I swear his hard body burns a hundred degrees hotter. I open my mouth giving him all the permission he wants, which he takes by dipping his coffee flavored tongue inside. Something comes over me, maybe it's l**t that has built up since he showed up at my front door hours early or the fact that this boy whom I wanted for such long time is in my room, his arms wrapped around my waist as he indulges me with a torturous promise of foreplay. I kiss him back just as hungrily. Time changes and so does his hands, which are rubbing my butt as he grinds his hardness on my stomach like a starved beast. My fingers pull at his damp hair keeping his head closer to me while I suck on his tongue the same way I sucked on his c**k the night prior. We kiss until my n*****s poke for attention, my panties dampen from a burning desire. We kiss until his c**k is rock hard stabbing my stomach, that it's bordering on painful. We kiss until his hand is rubbing my crotch through my shorts, causing friction and just enough pressure. Reagan Orniel and I kiss until I explode. Then, he abruptly stops and those swollen glistening lips have never looked sexier. Knowing I did that to him is a big ego booster but I’d never admit to it. Reagan never lacked in male pride and confidence, no way am I adding to it, no way. So mouth quiet and legs together I can only sigh as I watch his face go from predatory to soft, my own lips pouty and moist. His hands reluctantly drops down to the side, and I’m thrilled at the sound of his voice which is hoarse when he asks, “How's things down there, are you in pain?" I laugh not loud but just enough to hide the blush creeping up my neck, "What do you think Sherlock. You pound me with ten inches of muscle and expect another result you gonna be disappointed.” His smug smile is cute, but not lacking male pride, "It’s nine and a half, at least that's what I heard a few months ago." I walk across to the bed, grab the pillow from the top and hit him with it. When he starts laughing, I can't help the small smile creeping in on my lips. “What did you want to talk about so urgently that it couldn't wait until tomorrow?” He grabs my hand and sits on the edge of the bed, my bed, pulling me between his open legs so I have no option but to stare into his blue gaze. “I think we should be exclusive." "What?" My jaw goes slack, right to the floor, in fact I'm pretty sure my eyes are twice its size. I must be dreaming, maybe I fell off to sleep and he didn't show yet. Yup, that makes more sense because Reagan Orniel doesn't know the meaning of the word exclusive unless it comes with a price tag. "Listen to me Dainy, I’m not going to allow some fucker to take what's rightfully mine." "Rightfully yours?” I scoff at how absurd that sounds, “Since when did I become yours, ha? Last time I checked I belonged to no one, you can't just waltz in here and expect me to be jumping up and down because Reagan Orniel wants to be exclusive." He opens his mouth to speak but I put my hand in the air, palm front, stopping him. "I watch how you treat woman Reagan, if you want anything with exclusive written on it from me, I'm going to need much more than a few kisses, and a night of drunken sex." His hand rubs my bare thigh and by his hooded eyes he knows what he's doing to me. "Dainy, I'd never do that s**t to you, f**k, just give it a chance. Sleep on it tonight and I'll pick you up in the morning." When I don't cave, he rubs his thumb over my cheek, a slight smile playing on his lips, "Please, Dainy."   732 Number of words

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