I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Vincent’s mouth on my t**s, the way his hands had gripped me, the hard press of him between my legs. My body kept tingling, restless. I touched myself in the dark, trying to finish what he’d started, but it wasn’t the same. My fingers didn’t feel like his. I came anyway, quick and frustrated, whispering his name into my pillow like an i***t.
I was Emma, the volleyball star. Guys chased me. I didn’t get weak-kneed over some quiet Tutor. But when I saw him in class talking to his friend while using his hand to demonstrate my thighs squeezed together under the desk. He caught my eye for a second. That small, knowing look made my face burn.
After practice I went straight to his apartment. My legs were sore from drills, but that w
