Determination

Savannah

When group ended, I grabbed my things and ran out like I was running from Damon.

But in reality, I was waiting for him down the hallway.

The sun had settled down for the night, and the pitch-black monster crept in from every window in the community center.

To save on money, most of the building was engulfed in that same black darkness that hung from all corners and soaked the building with a lost and lonely essence.

When Damon walked out and came down the hallway alone, I knew I was going to lose my temper.

My mind was lost in a sea of rage-laced fear with determination and commitment drizzled on top.

As soon as he made his way down the hall, I attacked.

I hit him with a tightly made fist and shoved him.

Falling after his every step, I hit him three more times before he had my wrists in one of his wide hands, his other at my throat, and slamming me into the wall.

The back of my head hit the white stone bricks and immediately gave me a headache.

I would most likely get a migraine tomorrow and be sick from it.

“What the FUCK was that? Do you have a death wish?” he growled into my ear; his hold on me kept me stranded, on my tippy toes.

I saw the split in his bottom lip; the dribble of blood made me feel less like a failure.

“You threatened Jonah and Percy. Screw you,” I seethed and kneed him in the dick.

When he dropped me, we both fell, side by side, his hands on his crotch, mine on my throat, rubbing the base of my neck to rid myself of the burning sensation he had stung me with.

I was still angry, my mood swings had gotten the best of me and were steering this ship right into the rocks.

I kicked his shin and jumped on top of him.

His arms tucked under my legs with me straddling his lap.

I punched his face again and again before he had us flipped and had my arms above my head stretched all the way out with his grip biting into my skin.

His body pinning me, his knees splitting my thighs, and his face hovering right above my own.

His eyes like a desolate black hole that was sucking me in to consume and annihilate my entire being.

A red mark graced his cheek where I had landed a blow, and the dribble of blood on his bottom lip now ran down his chin, leaving a few stray droplets on his T-shirt’s soft collar.

I raised my chin in defiance, never wavering or cowering away like he expected.

Never submitting.

I challenged his stare with my own.

I could feel him breathing, his chest inhaling and grazing along my own front with the closeness of our bodies.

Every exhale dusting my neck and cheek with his warm breath.

I could hear our hearts beating, or maybe just my own since it was so loud it was like a drum pounding in my head.

The silence that danced around us spun and dipped in a frenzy of the best break dance in the world.

We said nothing.

Then I felt it.

His ~it~.

Poking me through the thickness of his black blue jeans and prodding my core through the thin sheerness of my favorite leggings.

“Oh my God, get off me, pervert!” I wiggled and tried to buck him off, to move away, but his grip tightened.

His hard-on shoved closer—I gasped at the feeling. That’s when he struck.

His soft lips tangled and twisted with my own and before I knew what the hell I was doing I could taste his mouth.

Our tongues met and they got along like long-lost loves rekindling some lost flame.

I couldn’t control the moan that he coaxed from me when his hips moved into my own, dry humping me on the cold marble floor in the dark hallway of the community center.

His kiss wasn’t what you would expect from some big, bad biker prince.

Especially not an angry one.

He had stolen this kiss, but he wasn’t forcing it, he wasn’t taking my kiss like a demand.

He wasn’t commanding me to give anything back or dominating.

He was stealing it, but he was gentle, like borrowing without asking.

It was wrong, shouldn’t be done, but if returned then not so bad.

And I ~was~ returning it.

Karma right?

His lips so soft but firm, and his tongue wasn’t shoved down my throat like any boy I had made out with before.

They all kissed like starving wildebeests.

Like horny little dogs.

Damon wasn’t, though.

His kiss was different.

It was like he was savoring it.

~Savoring me.~

The feeling of his hardness bulging through his jeans and rubbing along my slit made me so, so wet.

I knew my panties were soaked and that had never happened to me before.

Never had I been ~this~ turned on before.

This wet.

Sure I was no stranger to orgasms, I had figured out how to make myself cum at twelve years old and had been fingering myself regularly ever since, but this was different.

I had never felt like this.

My blood ran white hot through my bones and I could literally feel the fire in his touch.

I was being set on fire and only wanted more—I was walking straight into hell’s sinful flames and wasn’t hating a second of it.

“Hey Tanya, do you know where Van is?”

Percy’s voice made me wake up, a bucket of freezing cold ice water doused me.

I bit Damon’s bottom lip and shamelessly liked the taste of his blood, mingled with the wildberry mint gum he had recently been chewing.

The groan he gave me was absolutely, mind-blowingly delicious.

With the shock of my move, his grip loosened and I knocked him off me.

Jumping to my feet, I snatched my purse and jacket off the floor, spinning around the corner without looking back or saying anything else to Damon.

Leaving him there alone, freshly kissed, bruised, and bleeding.

“There you are.” Percy smiled.

“Let’s go, haul ass.” I wasn’t in my right mind... from the anger, the fear, the lust, the regular problems going on in my messed-up brain, I felt panicked.

I wanted to get as far away as possible from what I had just done.

I wasn’t ashamed of being a sexual being.

I liked it, and if I was my old self and he wasn’t an absolute douchecanoe, then I would probably have jumped his bones, but I lived in the here and now.

What I just did was so fucking reckless, even for me.

I wasn’t ashamed of my body, of my dive into the lusting fires, but I was ashamed I had let Uncle Jonah down, Percy down; I had embarrassed myself yet again with this fallen angel.

I had been saying at every interaction with him how unattractive I found him and I had literally said he didn’t make me wet, and yet here I was.

My lips swollen by his kiss and my panties disintegrated by the fire he had placed in my vagina.

I snaked my arm around Percy’s elbow and dragged him behind me.

“Why do you look like that?”

I shouldered the door and moved us out of the building.

“Like what? I look like nothing.”

I brushed his comment off.

“Like you just ran a marathon. Your cheeks are flushed and your hair is messed up. Where were you?”

I broke out into a full-fledged run, and Percy had no choice but to match my speed.

“I was just in the bathroom. I’m fine. I want to go home.”

~And never see Damon’s face ever again.~

I had managed to make a bad situation worse, then made it into a grave one. Then because I wasn’t done yet and was just the show-off that I am, I made it into a dire situation.

Was I an overachiever?

Yes.

Yes, I was.

Did I just fuck up our lives yet again?

Yes.

Yes, I did.

Did I have a plan to fix it?

No.

No, I did not.

Was I completely fucking screwed?

Yes.

Yes, I was indeed.