This is probably how he felt that day Claire came to find me in the rain…
When my Little Pixie walked into the house with him, laughing and smiling, I felt nothing less than a heavy rage. That deep husky laugh of hers is for me, and me only. I’ve never heard her laugh for anyone else before, and maybe it’s selfish, but I wanted to keep it that way forever. I wanted to be the only one to make her smile, to see those dark red lips part and turn upwards.
“Johnny,” Sasha says, placing a soft hand on mine. “Is everything alright?”
Those grey eyes stare up at me, and every ounce of anger I was feeling just floats away. I smiledown at her, feeling the alcohol hit my system at the same time. “Yes, Pixie, everything is alright.”
Telling her how angry I was when I saw her walk into the house earlier would be the worst idea ever. I don’t want to scare her off. I don’t want to have her ripped away from me when I just got her.
I don’t know how, but whenever I’m with her, an overwhelming sense of peace and quiet seems to take over. She grounds me in a way I’ve never experienced before.
She turns back towards the party, silently watching everyone, while I rake my gaze up and down her body.
Tight black jeans with rips in the knees, and a cropped Livler University t-shirt with a jean jacket over top. The shirt is so cropped, you can see the tip of the dagger that sits between her tits poking out the bottom.
It’s taken everything in me not to throw her over my shoulder and drag her ass up to my room. Not only because I want to see what lies beneath those clothes, but also to keep other guys from noticing her.
Luckily, everyone seems to be preoccupied and no one’s made a move on her… yet.
I feel bad for any poor sap who decides to approach her.
Maybe it’s the liquor, or maybe it’s some residual anger from seeing her walk in with Lucas earlier, but I make a snap decision and step behind her. My arms wrap around her shoulders, while my head rests atop hers.
She stiffens for a second before accepting my dominating touch, “people are gonna get the wrong idea, Johnny.”
“And what’s that?” I ask her, my voice filled with gravel as her ass presses into me.
She twists, angling her head up to look at me, “that we’re more than friends.”
Good, let them think that. Let them think she’s mine, because she is. Whether Sasha Price knows it or not, she’s been mine for a very long time…
Three years ago
My professor goes on and on about the psychology of gaming at the front of the lecture hall, every word he says going in one ear and out the other.
I can go back and watch the recorded version of the lecture later.
For now? I’m drinking in every ounce of Sasha Price that I can get.
Don’t get me wrong, I love video games and this class is actually super interesting, but I’d be lying if I said my choice in courses wasn’t because of the dark-haired girl sitting a couple of rows in front of me.
I’m all too aware of every little movement she makes, watching the back of her head like if I stare hard enough, she’ll turn around and notice me.
But of course, she’s focused on anything but me.
Ever since that first day on campus, I’ve been completely enamoured with her. I feel a little creepy sometimes, but I can’t help it, she’s just so fucking interesting and perfect that I need to see her.
I need her near me.
There’s this weird pull in my chest when she walks past me or sits close. It’s like the universe is telling me that she’s meant to be in my life.
I wish I had the balls to talk to her, but every time I think I’m actually going to do it, I lose all the courage I built up.
She’s quiet, almost never talks to anyone, and she’s always walking everywhere alone. I saw her get into a car right afterclass one time, a dude was in the driver’s seat. I tried to get a good look at him, but they drove off before I got the chance.
That shit bothered the hell out of me.
Who was he?
