Chapter 3 Living In The Past

• ** POV - Melaena – age 19
• Warning – sexual content!
• He moves his fingers under the lace of her panties, yanking them off. Moving slowly he kisses his way up her thigh, turning his head so his breath tickles her. She lets out a deep moan, moving her hips in anticipation. He moves in, tongue lashing against her clit while his hands move under her hips pulling her into his face. She lets out a cry of pleasure, her hands pulling his hair. He licks and sucks, moving his fingers into her wet ….
• I groan and close my eyes. Green orbs fly into my mind and I feel an ache forming between my legs. I press them together and throw the stupid book on the bed. Kiara peeps out of the closet.
• “Mel, stop reading yourself into a climax!” A pair of jeans hit me in the face before I can react.
• “It’s time to get funky!” She shouts excitedly pulling clothes from the shelves and throwing them on the bed. Kiara is a fashion-obsessed individual, unlike me. I will wear anything I like without thinking about who designed it or how much it costs. She stops and looks at me, her eyes shining even more. Then she picks up the book on my bed and looks at the cover picture.
• “Ug, you’re sex dreaming again?” I just snort and pull my knees up to my chest. Kiara always teases me for being such a romantic. She’s more of a realist, not believing in true love. She loves to date good-looking blokes but never lets it get serious. Me, on the other hand, dream about …. well, let's just say I dream about something different, something special, the sort of storybook love where two people’s eyes meet and BAM – true love forever, like a Romeo and Juliet kinda thing, but without the dying part.
• What can I say? I for sure as hell know that love, at first sight, does in fact exist, but the living happily-ever-after part … well, that part is a warped cliché. The universe is cruel and mischievous, that’s for freaking sure. Let’s just say that fate and destiny seem to fight against each other in a battle of wills no one can win.
• Yes, destiny scored and I got the eyes meet – BAM - part under the belt. But fate intervened and the rest is all screwed up and intertwined – twisted up into a corrupted ball of claustrophobic frustration. Cause in that same BAM moment, I learned that love and hate are homogeneous; like identical twins, they share the same DNA and it’s almost impossible to distinguish between the two. I now have a theory that the perverted universe likes jokes, especially when it comes to love - because of all the boys in the world, they set me up to have my BAM moment with HIM.
• Granted, he’s the most beautiful man in the world, with fiery green eyes, jet-black hair, the body of a Greek god, and the face of a fallen angel. Sounds great, doesn’t it … and destiny keeps smashing us into each other … but there’s just this teeny little problem - the sick depraved universe added some insurmountable obstacles to that perfect complexion – like an annoyingly rebellious, moody, troubled, heartless bad boy attitude combined with the soul of the devil. And if that’s not enough … believe it or not, fate laughed in my face, and now that satan is my brother’s best friend.
• The same obnoxious boy that helped us at the haunted house. The same boy whose number 13 jacket is still hanging in my closet. The same boy whose green eyes have been haunting my dreams for years and years. And, yes you guessed it, the same boy Logan started a lifetime BFF friendship in his junior year with - Damion Grimm, a cocky bad-ass playboy and MotoGP champion.
• Who would have thought that we were destined to meet again? And in such circumstances at that. Just thinking about our first meeting after the whole haunted house incident, makes my skin crawl with frustration as it replays in my mind.
• It was the end of our first week back at school, freshman year, and Kiara and I were stashing our stuff in our lockers before leaving for the weekend. As usual, Logan would come to pick us up, like every other day. He was in an all-boys school just a few blocks over. I was standing with my back to the doors. Suddenly all the girls in the hallway started acting like monkeys in heat, and I didn’t need to turn around to know that my brother must have entered the building. It was the same routine every freaking Friday. For some fucked up reason – still unknown to me – Logan would walk through the doors, strutting his handsomeness in his school uniform, smiling and flirting with every girl in the hallway. I’m sure he did it just to piss me off… and it did. Oh, hell, it definitely did. I got infuriated from my small toe all the way to the top of my cranium.
• It’s not the fact that all the stupid overeager females, and probably some males, would drool over him, flaring on his already massive ego, that got on my nerves. No, it was the intrusion of my privacy the whole week after his dramatic performance of maleness, when every bitch and cranny in the school would enter my personal space trying to get his freaking number – that’s what mangled my anger. I’m not his personal assistant after all!
• As soon as he spoke I could hear the mocking in his voice blazing on my heating irritation.
• “Hi, girls. You’re ready to go?”
• Can he not just wait outside like I’ve asked him a million times over? But I knew he did it to antagonize me. He just loved the attention and as much as it hurts me to say this, he liked to misuse it following in the twin’s man-whore footsteps.
• Usually, I just count to ten and try to ignore the moron - but that particular day I was already as grumpy as a cow with tit-infection; ending up in the principal's office twice and getting my knickers in a twist for being innocently accused. First for emptying my strawberry milk on a bitchy senior’s head, and next for giving Jason a big fat shiner. Don’t get me wrong, I did both of those things, but they deserved it and more – still I’m the only one that ended up in detention. I tried to explain to the principal that the bitch bullied a freshman to tears, and Jason squeezed my butt cheek, but to no avail. I’m sure he didn’t even listen. So, yeah, I was not in the mood for my brother’s sarcasm.
• Displeased, I slammed my locker door shut with a little extra force, ready to take all my anger out on the dickface jock.
• “Logan, I swear one day I’m going to fudging kill you, prick!” I hissed before turning around eyes blazing with anger, ready to give my brother a piece of my mind and maybe even my fist. But then BAM my breath and everything else inside me got sucked out with force by teasing bright apple-green eyes. The hot-as-hell guy standing next to my brother filled out his uniform better than Thor himself ever could, his raven hair was in a messy-sexy style and the skew smile heated my core to boiling point. For some crazy reason, I wanted to grab and kiss a total stranger. And to top it all off, I immediately recognized him as the same boy from years ago, the one I just couldn't seem to forget. And the one whose jacket I just happened to wear at the time. It couldn’t get more embarrassing than that, making me even angrier.
• “Hello,” He said in a husky raspy voice. Of course, even his voice would be sexy, how could it not be?
• “You!” I exclaimed, not sure if I should run away or not, “You’re the boy … “
• “I’m Damion,” he interrupted me rudely, looking around as if he was bored to death. “Nice to meet you.”
• What an ass! He acted as if he didn’t remember me … but in my gut, I knew he did. How can he not? I’m wearing his name on my sleeve for goodness sake.
• I don’t remember much after that, just Kiara holding on to me as I stormed out of the building, thinking that I might just set the number 13 jacket on fire!
• Let’s just say that Damion became a regular in our house. And he became the person I hated the most. In fact, my hatred for him is so much that I experience heavy heartbeats, a twisted stomach, and nauseating feelings each time he is around. He’s like an itch under my skin I just can’t get rid of - increasing its discomfort each year, getting almost unbearable – so much that I’m scared of doing something irresponsible one of these days – like ripping his balls off.
• I realize Kiara is staring at me, tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for a response.
• “It’s cliterature – you know like clit-literature. I have to learn from books to gain experience since all guys seem to walk in circles around me. But since you have regular one-night stands, you might not understand,” I pout my lips at Kiara as she shoots me a pitty-full look.
• “You know that’s something I could never understand. It’s strange how guys always seem to flat-out avoid you.” She’s right – it is strange. Guys would check me out but never ask me out. And if one did gather the courage to do so, he would never show up for the date and look like Mike Tyson’s punching bag the next day. I even had to go to my prom with Axel … or rather he was forced by my brothers to go with me.
• Sometimes I wonder if they are the reason for men avoiding me like the plague … Axel dodged the question - just grinned and shrugged his shoulders blabbing that they are not fully to blame for my awkward social life. But I’m not convinced. I’m sure they have a finger in the pie somehow.
• “At least you have Ren now,” Kiara comments out of the blue. Yes, I do. Ren, a friend of Jason’s, asked me out as soon as we got back from Europe. And he lasted more than two dates now. It’s not that he’s the love of my life - although he’s not bad looking - but more of a case that I was just so glad someone, at last, showed some interest in me.
• “Yep, I suppose.” Grabbing my black dragon soft-toy, Ripper, I squeeze it against my chest as if it can dull the ache in my heart. Funny how I use the toy Damion won for me to comfort me when I feel sad. I mean, I only kept the stupid thing to always remind me of the evilness under his pretty-boy exterior. Yep, I’ve experienced just how evil he can be on more than one occasion. Kiara’s voice ships me back to reality again.
• “Um, mm.” She pulls her judgmental face and looks at Ripper with a pity-full look. Kiara knows I hate Damion - and for 2 good reasons.
• One, he woke me up one night, dared me onto his bike, and then we broke into the zoo. It was a great night, walking hand in hand between the animals, just talking without anybody judging us. But then the very next day he broke my heart into pieces, showing up with a bimbo squashed against him on his bike.
• Then, like a sucker for punishment, a few months later he made me skip school and go with him to the Boardwalk. It was just after he won his first MotoGP championship and I was overjoyed that he wanted to celebrate it with me. Again he gave me hope, holding hands, spending the day having fun on the rides, eating ice cream, and playing games. That is where he won the big black dragon toy for me and it was the best day I’ve ever had.
• But when he dropped me off, Jackson caught us and they had a big fistfight on the grass. I’m not sure who won but like clockwork, the next day a new brunette was paraded on his bike for me to see, shattering my heart and hope.
• This time I was devastated and I cried for weeks. For every tear that fell the hate grew in my heart and Ripper got its name. Damion never asked me out again after that. Hell, we hardly had a decent conversation since then. Instead, I go out of my way to ignore the annoying dimwit, acting mostly as if he is invisible, only talking to him when I absolutely have to - and even then I am rather hostile and cold. Only Kiara knows about the real reason for my coldness and being the good friend she is, she also treats him like the enemy.
• But of course, Damion, on the other hand, goes out of his way to annoy and antagonize me every moment he can … and believe me he can. He can get me from zero to mad just by opening his mouth, and at the same time from dry to wet in just one stare. Yeah, I’m not proud to admit that fact even to myself – physically I’m attracted to the man like a bee to a flower. But I learned my lesson the hard way and no amount of honey can ever make up for the pain of a broken heart. As I said, love and hate – different sides of the same coin.
• So, yes, Kiara knows everything, but that doesn’t mean she understands what I’m going through. How do I explain something I don’t even understand myself to someone else? How can I be so attracted on one hand, but hate him so much on the other?
• I hate his fudging humongous narcissistic ego. And I hate every girl falling before his feet as if he’s God’s gift to women. I also hate how that fact fuels his already big head to grow even bigger – as if that’s possible. And most of all I hate his man-whore ways – sleeping with every available brunette … and believe me there are plenty of those it seems. Hell, some girls are even willing to dye their hair brown just to get a piece of the action. It’s utterly ridiculous!
• I guess it’s that smoldering, moody, on-the-edge, dangerously mysterious bad-boy reputation of his that gets them hooked – myself, I’m not sure yet if it scares me away or intrigues me.
• Kiara is tapping her foot again and I stop the mind-running to answer her before she suspects where my mind is lingering.
• “What, I like Ren,” I say this more for myself than her to be honest. Ren is a really good guy, that treats me like a queen … it’s just that our views of the future differ. He is already talking about getting married and having children. At 19 I’m way too young to think about marriage and I certainly don’t want to even think about kids and that stuff. I won’t even know which side of the baby is up and which side goes down. But honestly … maybe it’s just having kids with him that scares me.
• Kiara snorts. “Yeah right. You keep telling yourself that.” I sigh. How can I tell her, that when I kiss Ren I don’t feel any sparks? And sometimes Damion’s frickin green eyes are laughing at me.
• I ssssoooo much want to delete Damion forever from my life because he just messes up everything. It’s as if my mind, body, and heart are in a constant war, each one fighting for a different outcome. My mind repercussions me about staying miles away from the cock-ass, my body lusts to be in his arms, kissing him and my poor little heart is hoping just to come out of this mess in one piece. And truthfully, I’m not sure whose side I’m on.