“No.” I ground out the word and sat down on his bed again with my arms crossed. I didn’t get a chance to rethink the danger of that move and the vulnerable state it placed me in, but he did. He froze with his hand above the knob. My heartbeat stuttered then slowed when he turned slowly to face me with a menacing expression plastered on his beautiful face.
“I told you, you didn’t deserve my bed, but since you seem to want it now, I can accommodate you.” Fear and confusion wound its way into my mind when he took threatening steps toward me while reaching for his hoodie and tossing it over his head. When he reached the foot of the bed, I panicked and scrambled for the head, only making it halfway before he grabbed onto my ankle and dragged me, kicking and screaming, back to him. I was relieved when he released me but his next words made the panic come rushing back.
“Take off the dress. You can get fucked on the floor,” he snarled. His gaze was stormy as he glared down at me. I watched his nostrils flare when I didn't move.
“Why would I do that?” I fought to hold it together when all I wanted to do was run and hide.
“Because I said so.”
“Just take me home!” Frustration rose inside me and I let my tone reflect it.
“Take it off. You have three seconds.”
“But –”
“One…”
“I really don't –”
“Two. Don’t make me get to three.”
“Or what?” I challenged as a last resort.
“I do it for you.” His hands grabbed my dress at the hem and the sound of ripping material had me grabbing his hands to stop him.
“Ok!” I yelled in surrender and stood up. Our bodies were only a breath apart and I could feel the simmering heat from his anger and his body, penetrating my senses. My shaking hands rose to the straps of my dress, slipping them down slowly until my dress dropped to the floor with a whisper of sound. I kept my eyes lowered though I felt the weight of his gaze on my skin. I noticed his hands clench into fists and hold and I wished I had the courage to ask what he was thinking.
“Kill the fucking act. You don't have anything I won’t see, and feel, and taste. Again…” My knees shook and my shoulders trembled at his harsh words. “…and again…”
“Stop,” I pleaded.
“…and again,” he continued. He looked me up and down before saying, “I’ve seen better. You don’t have anything special.” He then picked up my dress and tossed it at me for it only hit the floor again at my feet.
A sound of distress escaped my throat and I rushed to pick up the pale yellow material and clutch it to my naked chest. With a look of disgust he stormed out of the room, the vibration of the door slamming echoing throughout the room.
*
“Turn here. He said he’d be in the quad,” Keenan directed. We’d just driven thirty minutes out to the local college. I wondered what the supply was that we came for. Keiran parked the car but kept the engine running. He watched me through the rearview mirror and held my stare. After he destroyed me emotionally in his bedroom I remained silent, wanting to lick my wounds in peace.
“There he is,” Keenan exclaimed with excitement lacing his voice. He rubbed his hands together before jumping out of the car.
Keiran continued to watch me even after Keenan was gone. When my nervousness began to show through my fidgeting, he smirked. “Stay here,” he ordered and then he was gone, breaking the connection he held me in.
I watched through the backseat car window as the three men slapped hands and pounded each other’s backs in normal manly fashion. The guy who I assumed was Blake carried a small, black duffle bag. He handed the bag over, appearing casual when I was anything but. I stared at the black duffle bag, silently freaking out over the possibilities of its content.
When they turned back to the car, Keiran placed the bag on the backseat floor. I could hear the muffled movements of what sounded like glass knocking around. The temptation to open the bag was strong and he must have known by the glare on his face.