Gets Under My Skin Novels & Stories

My skin tingled just remembering it, the ghost of his touch lingering like it had branded me. I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles, water cascading down my back. “Why does he get under my skin like that?” I whispered, barely audible under the rush of water. It wasn’t just attraction. It was… electricity. Dangerous. Alive. The kind of thing you knew you shouldn’t touch, but you still reached for anyway. I shut the water off too quickly, like that would cut the thoughts along with it. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it around me and stared at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. My cheeks were flushed, lips parted, eyes brighter than they had any right to be.

My small baby hairs on the skin came to attention as goosebumps erupted my skin . " you look so pretty in wedding dress ...you look like mine baby...how your stupid brother thought of marrying you off with someone else when you belonged to here ...to me " he chattered . His voice was softer and thicker with lust . He nudged his nose to my cheeks skin and my breath hitched as I felt tingling to the unwanted closeness .

Frank reached under my shirt to brush against my sensitive skin. “You lack willpower. Let me help you hone it.” I felt him pulling down the straps of my undershirt with his fingers. He was about to slip his hands under my undershirt. Meanwhile, his other hand slid further down my wrinkled skirt and slipped into my soaked underwear.

Eve The gold dress lies in a heap on the bathroom floor. It looks like shed skin. A glittering, metallic casing that I have molted to reveal the soft, bleeding, pathetic creature underneath. I stand under the spray of the shower, the water hot enough to turn my skin pink. I watch the water swirl around the drain, tinged pink with the evidence of my failure. My stomach twists. A sharp, serrated cramp rips through my lower abdomen, making me double over. I press my forehead against the cool tile, gasping.

The surface glittered and the cubes floated freely clinking softly against the sides. Just what I needed for my bruises but my skin as though sensing the tension started aching and I was merely looking at it. The deep purples and sickly pink stains painting my thighs, back, and arms like a whirling storm over my skin itched but that wasn’t going to change my mind. I needed this! With an unsteady breath, I dipped one foot in.

I show up in my butter-yellow sundress, Coach sunglasses (yes, the bougie ones I only wear to trick people into thinking I’m emotionally stable), and kitten heels that are way too cute for how trashy I feel on the inside. Callie spots me first. “Oh my God, Sleeping Booty returns.” Emily snorts. “We were taking bets on if you died or just found Jesus.” I slide into my seat, grab a mimosa like it’s my last lifeline, and sigh. “I hate both of you.” “Ohhh, she’s glowing,” Callie grins, wiggling her fingers at me. “Babe, that’s post-sex skin. You can’t lie to me, I pay your skincare subscription.”

My blood chills as I try my best not to let the paranoia seep it's bone crushing tendrils under my skin. I like to think I have tough skin but there are some people who knew how to cut deep.

he’s referring to the stud in my nose, “do it to scare people away?” “Well, it obviously isn’t working on my end.” I mutter under my breath, tearing my gaze away. His refusal of a rejection has resulted in me being a bitch. There’s something about him. It’s like he’s under my skin, clawing away at my insides. Like the tickle of fingers gliding across flesh causing goosebumps to break out, but instead of feeling good it makes you want to tear your skin off.

I caught the attention of whatever demons lurked under Greyson’s skin. I step under the cool water and tip my head back. I can’t do hot. Not when I’m burning from the inside out. I brush my teeth and rinse out my mouth until I have no evidence of my physical reaction to my horror. I spit and dunk my face under the stream. And then I scrub. My face, the makeup coming off on my washcloth, my neck, my chest. Every inch of my skin, leaving it pink and tingling. Finally, I feel a little bit more human. I dry off and slip back into the shirt, then go into my room.

After I am done bathing, I get dressed in my Red Silk gown that Borham gifted me . It still fits. I think, as I look at myself in the mirror. Crooked nose. Wrinkled skin. Pitch black balls for eyes, an abyss of dark magic swirling inside. Pale white skin with a pointy chin. Lips the colour of blood. Beautiful. It was a nightmare down there under the grave. How does it feel to be under the soil for more than twenty years with snakes coiled around your body, suffocating you and making you feel ill? I wonder. It felt excruciating. I say.