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53. Definitely not good.
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My Badboy Knight 54. What was that?
TASHAJason snirks a chuckle at me and unhooks Diane's hand from his arm, tucking his hands into his pockets before stepping closer to my face, his dark gray eyes digging into mine. "You know Tasha, you really amaze me with that sharp tongue of yours that sometimes, I wonder if I really dated a girl like you. You want me to give you back your textbook right?""So that means that you are actually the one who stole my textbook." I scoff, my blood boiling. "Look Jason, I am not going to answer that bloody question you just asked. And I am not going to repeat myself.""Just who the hell do you think you are Tasha?" He sneers, his breaths fanning against my cheeks.I stare daggers at him, remaining unfazed by his arrogant attitude. "I am the girl who is so ready to fuck you up right now if you do not return back what you fucking stole from me. You are so pathetic Jason, stopping so low just to prank me in order to soothe your sick, disgusting ego. I guess you wanted my attention. Now you h
My Badboy Knight 55. Think about me.
TASHAThis morning, after helping my mum pack her stuff for her trip and stealing one of the bottles of her numerous signature perfumes, I volunteered to drive her to the airport for her early morning flight to France with the rest of her colleagues. After that, I barely managed to make it to school just in time not to miss the first five minutes of AP English."Everyone, settle down. No noise. We will be using the projector today." Mister Richard says just in time my ass settles down on my chair. I exhale in relief, keeping my bag on the floor close to my chair."Hey beautiful." I hear Nate's whispery voice beside me. I turn to my left side sharply, my mouth falling open at the sight of him smiling at me and sitting on Mira's chair beside me. Mira Lee is my seatmate who is a persistent chatty brunette that can be a pain in the ass sometimes.How the hell is Nate sitting on her chair?"What are you doing on Mira's seat?" I mutter out the question quietly so that Mister Richard doesn't
My Badboy Knight 56. Bold and Crazy and Risky.
TASHAMy thighs part more for him, surrendering to the intense pleasure his fingers vow to give to my body already aching for him. Mister Richard has taken over from Peter, addressing the class about how Macbeth's wife persuaded Macbeth to kill King Duncan. I know I am not that king, but the tingling sensation in-between my thighs is killing me right now.Nate's breathing quickens as his fingers begin rubbing the wet slit of my pussy. I can tell he is enjoying this by the naughty smile on his face. I bite back a moan as I shift my hips forward to his hand in a silent plea for him to fuck me with his fingers. Everyone is too focused on Mister Richard to care about the sexual tension growing and sizzling between Nate and me right now.His fingers tease me again before shifting aside the material of my panties. I hiss in strangled air through my teeth when his fingers brush over my bare wet pussy. My breath catches in my throat as his fingers glide along the slick entrance of my soaked c
My Badboy Knight 57. Surprise!
TASHAThe rays of the afternoon sun slithers through the windows of the cafeteria, burning mildly on my skin as I take a chunk bite of my chicken burger. Nate steals one of my apples from my tray, and I smack his arm. He still has his apples, and yet, he is stealing mine.Marco and Jennie are seated on the two chairs opposite us on the table, their backs turned to the giant blue banner beside the door of the cafeteria displaying a reminder that the Winter Formal Dance is next week Friday.I do not like attending school dances. I get dragged into them. When Jason and I were dating in the past, he would sugar-force me into going to the school dances with him, and as his girlfriend, I mostly felt obligated to go with him to the dances, not because I REALLY wanted to go.Almost all the official school dances that happen here in Westville High are strictly ballroom themed. It is not that I do not love ballroom dances. I do. But I do not like Waltz. I love attending the dances from the pers
My Badboy Knight 58. One hell of a shitty mess.
TASHAMore of her pictures pour in, including a video showing her head bent backwards, her eyes shut as she relishes in the esctasy of the whitish substance, some of which are coating her nostrils. The video is explicitly showing that she is getting high on drugs in a bright lavishly furnished room. I squint my eyes closer and notice that the outfit she is wearing in the video is the same bikini outfit she wore at Conrad's party last time. Loud music is also booming in the background of the video.If my guess is right, it means she was doing drugs at Conrad's party back then. But Diane. . . . .the Diane I know does not do drugs.In fact, I do not know anything anymore. And whoever took that video of her is really sneaky and cruel. Why did they even post it!?Fuck."What the hell?" Jennie tries muttering quietly, looking up from her phone and turning around, staring at Diane. "This is unbelievable."Loud waves of whispers fill the entire atmosphere. Shocked expressions from everyone pin
My Badboy Knight 59. Defense mechanism.
TASHAI wait for Diane by her locker after school dismissal, despite the tiny voice inside my head telling me to abandon talking to her and go home and just avoid her and her problems. She has her bitchy friends afterall.But I can't. I just. . . . .can't.I take a quick glance on my phone to check the time as I continue to wait. I hate her, but I want to know what really happened. I want to know how and when she started her new addiction. I want to know about her bruises. How she got them. And somehow, no matter how much I tried to deny it all day, a part of me wants to be there for her. To hold her, and maybe, hug her.Claire and Samantha avoided her like a dreadful plague all day after she came back from the Principal's office, looking so broken and torn. If there is still any tiny piece of the Diane I know still left in her, then I am sure she will need every glue she can get. The Diane I know cracks down under pressure. Pressure from her mother. Pressure from expectations. Pressu
My Badboy Knight 60. I want more.
TASHAAfter changing into some fresh bum shorts and a tank top, I make my way down to the kitchen to get some snacks and fruit juice for us. Coming out from the kitchen with the refreshments, I see that Nate has already made himself comfortable on the longest fluffy sofa in the sitting room, his shirt hanging on the armrest of the sofa. Some of his messy hair curls fall over his eyes, his fingers punching away at his phone screen. My pulse quickens as I just continue to watch him relaxing there on the sofa, half naked. Looking carefree and so fucking gorgeous. I snap back to my senses when I begin to feel the weight of the snacks and packs of fruit juice that I am carrying in my hands. I gently keep them down on the dining table behind me and slip out my phone from the pocket of my bum shorts. Without a flash, I take a couple unknown pictures of him sitting there, lost in his phone. He looks so effortlessly hot. He is my supermodel. I smile to myself as I tuck back my phone into my
My Badboy Knight 61. My Favorite Fantasy.
TASHAWe continue kissing even when we get to my room. My legs are still wrapped around him as one of my hands leaves his shoulders to open the door. Once we get inside, he kicks the door closed behind him."Your room smells heavenly." He groans against my lips, his nose grazing along mine. I blush a smile against his mouth. "Thanks."He captures my mouth into another kiss, carrying me to my bed. He lays me down gently on the bed, his mouth still tangled with mine. The soft manner in which he cradles my body intensifies my love and lust for him, turning me on the more. Gosh, I fucking love him.His body hovers above me, settling between my thighs, his elbows angling him so he does not press down on me. I want to touch him everywhere. To feel him everywhere I can. My fingers roam across his broad shoulders, the thick muscles of his chest and stomach, wildly tracing through every curve and line and dip before sliding upwards to the back of his head and fisting into his hair, tugging a
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