Dangerous Obsession

HIGH V[Kiss me]

******ANGELA'S POV

Perfect timing.

Jordan bolted.

I watched her go, towel clinging to her wet shoulders, face blotchy and pissed and about two seconds from either crying or throwing a punch. Classic Jordan. She never runs from things. She runs at them and then pretends she didn’t.

“Let her go,” I told Sara before she could chase after her.

Sara looked like she wanted to argue, but her jaw was still tight from Damien’s stunt, so she just nodded and sat instead.

Good. I needed two minutes without Sara’s protective big-sister energy ruining my plans.

The circle got awkward fast. Damien whistled low; Taylor and Tyler were whispering like vultures, and Rachel was staring at the fire like it could tell her what to do with her face. Kevin and Darren were pretending they didn’t just hear Jordan basically confess to wanting to kiss Alex in front of 15 people indirectly…

And Alexandr—

Alexander hadn’t moved. He was still leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring at his phone casually. His shot glass was empty, and his throat moved once, slow.

He didn’t look up even when I clapped to kill the tension.

Annoying and hot—

I smiled. The kind of smile that gets people to do stupid things on camera. “Okay, okay! That’s enough tension for one round. Let's dance, everyone!" I yelled, dragging them up as I walked to the dance floor.

Time was running, and I needed to humiliate Jordan badly before night ended.

“Only one room up there isn't being used, and that's Alexander's; three of them are being used for things Principal Hale would suspend us for if he found out. I’d set it up that way on purpose.

If Jordan were going to spiral, she were going to do it somewhere I could control the narrative.

I watched Alexander walk away to the snooker table to take a cigarette.

He would be going to his room sooner or later. I smirked and bounced off to the dance floor.

Minutes later, I glanced at the table.

He was gone.

JORDAN's POV

I turned to the creak sound as a familiar figure walked into the darkness, yet. I could see him clearly.

Dark hair with red tips—was that an invisible scar on his face, or was it just the tequila working against my thoughts?

He pulled his shirt off, and God, those muscles kept me standing still. He still hasn't noticed me standing close to the picture frame besides the bedstand.

He proceeded to take off his pants when I gasped; even in the dark, I saw his d**k bulging out of his pants.

He quickly jerked up like he had heard his name being called by an invincible force.

"Jordan—??" He growled.

“Alex—” I drawled. The same way he had called my name that made my neck inflame.

“Now I'm convinced you're stalking me…Deny it if you can." He walked to the sockets connecting the lights and quickly put it off, seeing how it affected my eyes.

"I'm not stalking you, dumb; I was looking for a room where a girl wasn't riding two d***s," I spat, my voice back to its original time, but my heart was still thudding fast and my legs buckled against each other as I tried to maintain my calm.

Silence.

Only our breaths were heard, and then he chuckled slowly, which turned into laughter.

For one or two minutes he was still laughing.

And the. He suddenly stopped.

“You know??—When I first saw you and your supposedly dangerous glares you think are supposed to kill someone, I thought you weren't this naive; trust me, you're naive." He whispered the last part.

"And you??An arrogant, proud, and selfish bastard who's got no iota of sense in his head. You act all proud and dangerous, thinking it's hot or something," I blurted, my breaths uneven.

I could see the smirk even in the dark.

“Jordan says I am not hot." He whispered softly, walking slowly towards me and backing me up against a wall.

I hate myself for not pushing him away majorly because I wanted this to happen.

I needed sleep; this was probably the tequila working against me.

I swallowed as he brought his head closer to mine.

I kept my eyes on the darkness past the deck. If I looked at him, I’d either punch him or kiss him again, and both options would have me in a whirlwind.

Heat crawled up my neck.

“What did you mean earlier?” His vice came out quiet and cold.

“That was the tequila,” I snapped.

“Liar.” He said it quietly, but it hit harder than if he’d yelled. “You’ve been pissed at me since day one because you can’t decide if you hate me or if I piss you off because you want to. Don’t blame the alcohol for that.”

I hated how right he was and hated I couldn't even decide right now because of how hazy my brain was.

He stopped closer, my back hit the wall harder, and I whimpered.

Outside, the rain started, drizzling slowly and making a pattering sound across the windows.

I could still feel his stare on my face, and I still couldn't hide the heat threatening to crawl up into my brain.

“I suggest you kindly leave the way and let me pass, Xander." It was meant to come out strong and stormy, but my voice came out hoarse.

Caging me between his hands, I knew he wanted to play a rough game that I wouldn't dare start.

"She already gave me a nickname."

“No, I didn't; it's just an abbreviation, dummy," I spat in annoyance.

My breath was becoming shallow; the room suddenly felt heavy and claustrophobic. He still didn't step back to let me breathe, and now my heart was thumping, heard threatening to burst out of my chest.

Crack!

The bed shifted, and I fell on top, the soft mattress bouncing underneath me and a huge weight on top of me.

Our lips touched, and in that moment, I felt the sparks fly in my head.

I didn't want to pull back. “Kiss me, Firefox." His voice came out rough.

I swallowed as he brought his head closer to mine.

My heart was hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it. Stupid. This was stupid. This was exactly what Angela wanted. The thought hit me like ice water, but it was too late—my body wasn’t listening to my brain anymore.

His breath was warm against my lips. I could smell and taste the smoke and tequila on him.

I didn’t.

The second our mouths met, it wasn’t slow or careful. It was messy and hard, like we were both pissed off and trying to prove a point. His hand came up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing over my cheek like he was trying to keep me there. My fingers dug into his bare chest because letting go felt like falling.

For two seconds, the noise in my head shut off.

No, Angela.

No party downstairs.

No Sara’s pitying look.

Just him, and the way he said my name like it was a problem he wanted to keep having.

His mouth was gentle against mine, firm and resolute, like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

He steadied himself hovering above me as he gently wrapped my legs across his waist.

Our breaths mixing with a scent of cigarettes and tequila.

He pressed his length against my core, and a sound I didn't recognize came out of my mouth.

Broken and begging.

"Shit." I heard a whisper from his mouth, soft yet rough with hunger.

This was a mistake; I could feel it, but I wanted this because my body was no longer listening to my head.

His hands move down, gently raising my gown. I saw the stars move through the window, my eyes trying to roll off into my head.

I heard his zipper make a sound; no, I couldn't do this.

I tried pushing him off, but he was too strong on me.

"Alex...Stop." I sounded like a sheep trying to beg for mercy.

“Alex—”

"Shhh...Shut up and lie still." It was then I realized he was drunk. His lips landed on mine again, this time softer and slowly.

He grabbed my ass and tugged me upward, bucking against my core; I still felt it hit my c**t. It vibrated around my legs.

I moaned and shivered.

But as soon as he bit my neck, those teeth were soft, grazing my skin, and I reacted as though I were used to it.

It felt normal till the world went pitch black.