Like a Good Slut

ELYSSIA

His large frame towered over me, blocking any chance of slipping away. I couldn't possibly shove past him. No. Nada. This guy was built like a fucking tank and was hard as a brick wall.

Giving him an intimidating stare, he met it with that dirty smirk on his face.

God, I wish I could wipe that smirk off his handsome face.

He tilted his head to the side, amused at my ‘childish outburst’. It felt like my anger sent a certain thrill through him

“Yes,” he said gruffly, then whipped out the lipstick he had smeared on my face in the bar.

“I want to return this.” He waved it frantically at me and for a moment, I thought he was going to poke my eyes.

The lipstick was indeed mine — my favourite one, at that, but I wasn't going to let him have the better part of me. To hell, I wasn't going to feed his amusement.

I rolled my eyes, giving him the nastiest look. The one where my lips tugged sideways in disgust.

“That's not mine. It's probably one of the many girls you bring to your room.” I pushed him a little, but he didn't budge. Not even a bit.

His light expression dimmed, and the way his smile dropped… I could taste his annoyance. My chest tightened. I had crossed a line. I knew that all too well. But he had crossed one too.

It wasn't a rumour that Asher threw the wildest parties and lusted after anything with a pussy.

My throat tightened, no words coming out.

All of a sudden, I felt terrible, but that didn't last long because he broke into a mocking laugh.

Note to self: Asher Lumen has different personalities and somehow mine just happened to be the annoying one.

“Well you came to my room, didn't you?” He asked, leaning forward. My back hit the wall as he closed the little distance between us. My breath seized in an instant.

Shit. His cock pressed against my thighs… hard. Tempting.

‘No. Elyssia, we're meant to hate Asher, not get wet’ my subconscious mind screamed.

He pressed his lips to my ear, and whispered.

“You threw yourself on me like a good little slut.”

That was it.

Every sensation between my legs vanished. My heart stopped beating and somehow the ripples of pleasure disappeared.

Before I could stop myself, my hand went flying across his face.

Everything stopped. The light flickered, even the air stilled.

What the fuck had I done?

I kept falling into more mess than I already was.

But this was my chance. Any more hesitation and he'd have the upper hand again.

Quickly, I shoved him off while he held his cheeks, eyes wide.

Was I the first woman to slap him or what?

Before slipping out, I grabbed the lipstick from him, and shoved it into my purse.

“Fuck off,” I said, finally free from his overpowering shadow.

Unexpectedly, a small laughter escaped his lips. He raised his head to me. “We're both sluts, I guess.”

I shook my head, half walking away from him.

“You were and I wasn't,” I said, turning away from him.

Waving my hand in the air, I warned him loudly.

“Follow me, and I'll call Liam.”

For some reason, he obliged, and didn't follow me. When he was out of earshot I sprinted home, my bag swaying as I ran for my life.

…..

Liam wasn't back when I got home. I walked into my room, relieved that my dear brother wasn't coming home tonight. Throwing my shoes and clothes in one corner, I slumped onto the bed, naked and exhausted.

“Asher Lumen,” I muttered, staring at the ceiling.

Everyone who knew him knew he was a typical playboy. A man whore. The way he held that girl, one large hand spanning her waist. When he leaned closer to me, I could feel how swollen his shaft was. I shuddered, shaking the thoughts out.

Like every man whore, he probably saw me as some innocent girl he could taint. He was the kind of guy who would never give up a chance to go down on a pussy.

“Tomorrow will be better. I can still avoid him if I try,” I said to myself, hopeful that we wouldn't cross paths again. He wouldn't even want to talk to me, not after the slap.

***

You know when I said I wouldn't see this bastard. Yes, I was dead wrong.

He was everywhere. At the library where I volunteered. At the park when I tried to get some school work done. Jesus Christ, he stopped by my second workplace. The tiny coffee shop that was way farther than the bar. Every time, he wore a slick grin, or gave a tiny wave.

That should've ended there. It should truly have. But tell me why Asher fucking Lumen walked into my class, strand of hair falling down his face and those stormy eyes glinting with excitement. Our eyes met before I had the chance to look away. He gave a tiny wave and marched towards me.

God please, not here. Not here, please!

He walked past the row I sat in, and just before my shoulder relaxed, he moved to a seat behind me.

“Excuse me,” he said, before plopping on the seat.

What more could the heavens give me?

My butt started to ache, causing me to shift uncomfortably on my seat. The professor hadn't stepped in yet and was likely going to run late. I focused on the book before me, trying so hard to ignore the stare that bored holes on my back.

“Abnormal Psychology…”

Someone poked my head. I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me who it was.

I sucked in my lower lip, holding the swirl of emotions rising inside me.

Another jab on my head. My eyes twitched knowing I couldn't snap at him.

I turned to meet his gaze, and that innocent smile.

A warning glare was not enough, because he poked me some more.

“What are you doing here?” I breathed out, snatching the pen from him. “I'm a psych major,” he answered, batting his lashes mockingly.

No, he wasn't.

I barely interacted with my class members, but I knew people who were in my department. And he certainly wasn't.

Even if he were, the whispers and stares from the class couldn't vouch for him.

I raised a brow suspiciously before turning away.

People stared at him like some celebrity. The attention was overwhelming, and I somewhat hoped the class would be cancelled.

I needed to get out of here fast.

Just then, the professor walked in, a book tucked beneath his arm.

I hissed, slumping onto my chair.

Today was going to be a pretty long day.