The Dancer

9. The First Words

Sara screamed, her breath picking up quickly as a hand pulled her hair causing her to fall back from the staircase. 

"Sorry," a deep voice said with worry in her ear. Her hair was let go and she turned around fearfully awaiting to see the tattooed stalker. But it wasn't her stalker, it was Malcolm.

"What the fuck was that?" She screamed. 

"I didn't meant to grab your hair, sorry...I just meant to grab you...your arm I mean," Malcolm says shaking his head. 

He was wearing a pair of boxers. Just that, a pair of boxers. His muscles were far from what Sara expected, toned, hard, chiseled...can muscles be chiseled...shit! It was like the gods had carved him from stone. His six pack, his v shape that moved to his boxers, his strong arms. Holy Mary mother of god, this man was beautiful. 

Sara felt her knees grow weak, she swore she felt pain in them from her run just a moment ago but now they were numb. Her eyes gazed over him, trying to hide her lust. She shook her head and forced her eyes to look into his, she immediately regretted this however. 

He was pissed, something within him boiled with fury, causing his hands to form into fists and his jaw to clench. 

"Where in the hell were you?" He asks sternly. His voice was strange, like he was ready to lock her up in her room forever, and it wasn't false that he was actually considering it. 

"I went for a run...you do realize your walls aren't sound proof, right?" She says with confidence and an attitude that showed how annoyed she was the nights events. 

"I was told they were...but that doesn't mean you can go on late night runs in the city, when god knows who is out there," his voice raises. "You could have been hurt, hit by a car, mugged, kidnapped...your stalker could have found you!" He yells angrily trying desperately not to grab her shoulders and shake her. 

"Any of those things would have been better than listening to you and that girl for another minute!" She snaps. 

"Next time I'll go somewhere else, but don't you ever pull a stunt like that again, Sara, I mean it."

"I will do whatever I want, I will go back to my dorm or go on a run or stay out past eleven, I am not a fucking child, you however, are acting like one."

"You might not be a child, Sara, but you are my responsibility and I refuse to let you make another stupid decision that gets you hurt."

"Going to my dorm is not a stupid decision. Staying here with you was a stupid decision, and trust me I will not be making that mistake again!"

She turns and stomps up the stair case. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" He calls out but she ignores him. He follows her but once they reach the top of the staircase he tosses his hands up. 

"Fine! you can go ahead and let your stalker kill you, I'll be here waiting for the police to call," He snaps and marches down his hallway and slams his bedroom door shut. 

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Sara was done, he was beyond done. Done with him trying to control her. She was sick and tired of him treating her like a child. She was sick and tired of being around him. Sick and tired of feeling the knots in stomach and the goosebumps and the pricks of fire that ran across her nerves when she saw him. She was sick of acting like she didn't care about whether or not he cared. 

She felt sick to her stomach, anger and stress running through her like a wave through an ocean. The images she had earlier that night ran into her head. Seeing him shirtless only made things worse. She could feel the tightness between her legs, the burning sensation that made her want to scream. She felt the pain of her core, needing to be filled. 

After locking her door she began to pace, trying to loosen up her nerves. His voice rang in her ears, echoing the sultry angry sound that made her skin tingle. She ran a hand through her hair, wanting desperately to go back in time and feel him tug on her hair again. 

"You are insane!" She thought, mentally screaming at herself for being a horny, angry, stressed out college student. She wanted to pull her hair out. She leaned against the vanity by her bathroom, she sat on the cleared off table, and leaved against the wall, she wanted a release so bad. her body aching for it. Her hand glided down her stomach and past the elastic of her shorts, her fingers went to the lips of her core, spreading her legs and moving past the lips. She bit her lip as she softly softly kneads herself, throwing her head back in ecstasy.