The Bookworm

Chapter 17 (edited)

Amara

The next few days were torture.

After the incident at the storage room, we had parted wordlessly, both of us more than a little shocked and shaken.

I don't recall how I got home, but I remember undressing and coming to the realization my clothes were torn. My school uniform was ripped up and my panties weren't in a much better condition.

I threw them away and investigated my reflection in the mirror. My messy, tangled hair, my colored cheeks, my bruised lips, and especially my eyes. My glassy eyes. They looked so dazed and wide as if I was high on something illicit. Maybe I was, maybe he was illicit because right then and there, I couldn't recognize the person staring back at me. I was still dizzy and sensitive all over.

Noah Wilson... Noah Wilson. The man that pushed me against the wall, claimed my first kiss for his own and first intimate moment with another person in the very same hour. Romance novels didn't prepare me for this. For this feeling, the feel of him. The unrefined want that was coming from something guttural. He was still humming in my system, his taste, his touch. I could feel him, everywhere I touched, everywhere he had touched, and we hadn't even gotten naked.

That day I threw away more than my clothes in the bin. I threw my judgments, my preconceived notions, and the lies I had been telling myself for a while.

I wanted him. I wanted him, even though I didn't know what to do about it.

That's why the following days at school had been a pain. If I believed before he had been intense, I was severely mistaken. He was intense now, though.

I couldn't take a step without finding him in front of me, behind me, somewhere around me. Everyone was gossiping non-stop about it, too. Even at lunchtime, he was just standing there opposite from me, supporting himself against the wall with crossed arms, crossed legs. He was lazily resting his gaze upon me as if he had all the time in the world to look at me, just me. His eyes were dark and daring, but patiently waiting for me... I could feel it in my bones, by the way his eyes were penetrating me, he knew exactly what I was thinking about us, every filthy thought, and was waiting and waiting for me to come to terms with it.

What I needed though was space, not only time to process, and it was the last time he was giving me. I was going through stages of embarrassment, anger and intense want that had my head spinning, he was driving me up the wall. One moment I wanted to claw at him for acting so caveman-like, and the next, I wanted to bruise his lips with mine, and kiss, bite, stroke, and caress, pull him towards me, and tag his hair hard.

He was arousing and enraging, making it so obvious. And I didn't know how to handle it or him.

How long could it be hidden at the rate he was going? It was as if he didn't care about the world around us like it didn't exist for him. But I wasn't ready, there were my parents, his grandmother, and the school in the middle. We weren't anything to each other, at least not yet, and I don't think I could ever be ready to introduce him as the man that brought me to climax a few days ago in a dark room. At school.

From a distance, I could feel him consuming me with his eyes, as they rested upon me for the 100th time today at recess. I took off my glasses to clean them, glaring at him, before placing them back up the bridge of my nose. At some point, I saw Char smirking at me, pleased with herself, but made no comments. I was grateful for her because God knew I'd need some time to talk about it. Not that she hadn't understood, she was quite experienced and knew me a little too well.