Chantal Fernando - Toxic Girl

“Came here from work,” he says, smiling at me. “We had a meeting.” Right, the hotel job. He takes my hand and pulls me into his arms. “I missed you today.”

“Missed you too,” I say into his chest.

“How was work last night?” he asks, rubbing his hands down my back.

I stiffen a little at his mention of my work. “It was fine. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks,” he says, yawning. “Just wanted to drop in and see you.”

“You look tired,” I say, seeing the weary look in his eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Come on then,” I say.

His brows furrow, so I take him by the hand and pull him into my bedroom and close the door. He makes himself at home, like he’s been in my room a million times. He takes off his shoes and climbs into my bed, lifting the purple leopard print sheets over him. He looks good in my bed. Too good.

“You going to join me?” he asks, his eyes closed.

I walk over to the other side of the bed and slide in next to him. As soon as my head hits the pillow, he reaches over and cradles me in his arms. “I could get used to this,” he mumbles sleepily. So could I. I’m a little uncomfortable at first, lying like this with him, but soon I hear his breathing even out, and know he is fast asleep. Why did he come here? I have to wonder. He was obviously tired after work. Wouldn’t he want to go straight home?

An hour later, Grayson is still fast asleep. I’ve been working on an assignment in that time and am almost finished when I hear Anaya call out my name. A second later, she bursts into my room. Seeing Grayson, she stills. “Sorry,” she mutters, not looking sorry one bit.

“What’s up?” I ask quietly, not wanting to wake Grayson up. I save the file, close my laptop, and put it on the side table.

“We got invited to a party this weekend,” she says, grinning ear to ear.

“A party?” I repeat, my voice showing my lack of enthusiasm.

“The party,” she corrects. She looks at Grayson. “You two official then.”

I point to the door, my eyes wide. I do not want Grayson to be present for that conversation. Anaya giggles and walks out, closing the door behind her. That girl is always in a good mood.

“So, are we?” comes an amused sleepy voice. Well, shit.

“Hey,” I say.

“Your bed is comfy,” he says, sitting up and looking at me. His shirt is wrinkled, his hair dishevelled, but he still looks sexy as always. He leans closer and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I’m going to kiss you, Paris,” he says, dark eyes never leaving mine. I nod, unable to say anything. My eyes are already on his lips, anticipating what’s to come. He takes his time, giving me a slow spreading smile before tentatively touching his lips to mine. He draws back a little, studying me before he kisses me again, deeper this time. He gently holds the back of my head, pulling me closer into him. Pushing me back into the mattress, our mouths still connected, he lies on top of me. He moans as he pulls away, placing a sweet kiss on my forehead.

“You taste so good,” he says, his eyes smiling down at me.

“Good” I say, dazed and breathless.

“So are we?”

“Are we what?” I ask.

“Official,” he says, lip twitching in amusement.

Official? Shit. If I’m in a relationship, I will need to either tell him the truth or stop stripping. I need the money, so the latter isn’t really an option right now. I need to tell him no. I’m sorry but I can’t. Now’s not a good time. Instead I pull his mouth back to mine.

Distraction is key.

“How did you talk me into going to this party?” I ask Anaya for the third time.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t be a party pooper. You need to get out. You can’t spend all your time with just Grayson.”

I wince, knowing that it’s true—I have spent all my spare time alone with Grayson over the last few days. But Anaya spends all her time with Paul too, so, pot meet kettle.

“Is Paul coming?” I ask, smoothing my dress.

“Yeah, he will be here with his mates,” she replies. The taxi stops, we pay and get out, walking toward the house.

“Whose house is this?” I ask, staring up at the mansion. Without bothering to knock, Anaya opens the door. We follow the sound of the music, passing a few people on the way. Everyone seems to be outside, where there is a pool and a DJ. Anaya drags me to dance for a few songs, before she sees Paul, standing around with a few of his friends. She runs into his arms, while I trail slowly behind her. Paul lifts his chin in greeting when he sees me, and I smile back at him. I’ve met him twice so far, and he seems really nice. He introduces me to his friends, and I smile and say hello politely. My phone vibrates, so I pull it out of my bra to check it.

Your boyfriend might get jealous seeing you talking to all those guys.

Grayson. He’s here? I look around the backyard, until I see him standing with his sister and another girl. One I haven’t seen before.

“Who’s that?” I ask Anaya. She follows my line of sight.

“That’s Dylan, this is her house,” she says. Dylan. The name sounds familiar. Grayson says something to his sister, and then starts to approach me. He’s wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a dimpled smile. He told me he would meet me here after work, so I thought he would have been a little later.

“You’re here,” I say stupidly, smiling up at him. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me into him, his lips briefly touching mine. The gesture is possessive, causing me to roll my eyes, but secretly I’m thrilled.

“I left work early,” he says. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his narrow hips. Grayson says hello to Anaya, Paul, and his friends. “How do you know so many people?” I ask him.

“Some of them went to high school with me, some I just met at uni, or around at parties,” he says, kissing my forehead. I’m not really used to public displays of affection, but with him, I couldn’t care less who was looking.

“Mr Social,” I utter under my breath.

Grayson chuckles. “One of us needs to be. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m fine, but thanks.”

“How about you, Anaya?” he asks, earning a scowl from Paul, who is yet to offer her one.

My roommate sighs dramatically. “No, but thank you for asking, Grayson.” She scowls at Paul, who in return shoots Grayson a look that clearly says ‘thanks for making me look bad’. Grayson, looking amused, ignores Paul and looks down at me.

“Dance with me?” he asks.

“I’d love to,” I reply. He reaches his hand out, and when I take it, our fingers intertwine. We walk near the DJ stand, where others are dancing. A Jason Derulo song plays as we start to move to the music. I grind on him a little, seeing the lust in his eyes, but then tone it down. If only he knew the moves I could do, the many ways I’m capable of seductively moving my body.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he whispers into my ear, pushing my hair back and to the side. I’m glad he thinks so. The song ends, and it’s then that I notice Dylan standing there, arms crossed, her eyes on me. And she doesn’t look happy. Instantly suspicious, I remind myself to ask Grayson what the deal is with her. We spend the rest of the night enjoying each other’s company. When I get home, I realise something. I need to tell Grayson the truth. If someone else tells him, I could lose him forever. I’d hate to lose the way he looks at me. The way his eyes go soft and gentle, as if I’m something precious to him. Something to be protected, nurtured.

I hope he never stops looking at me like that.

* * *

I’m reading a history textbook, when suddenly it’s gently pulled out of my hands. I look up into Grayson’s unreadable face. “What’s wrong?” I ask. He slept over last night after the party. He went home in the morning, and then returned in the evening to have dinner with me.

He bites his lip, studying me. His dark eyes are hooded, and I instantly feel a tug in my lower belly. I absently run my finger along my collarbone, tilting my head as I stare up at him. I know what he wants. Grayson and I haven’t done anything more than kiss. He’s on the edge, but I know that if I tell him I’m not ready, he won’t push me. Here he is, standing in front of me, waiting for me to make the first move. Waiting for my permission, for me to let him know that I want this as much as he does. And boy do I. Truth be told, I’ve been keeping my distance from him because of my secret. Because of what I haven’t told him about me. I can’t deny myself any longer though. I stand up and close the space between us, placing both of my palms on his warm chest.

“Are you sure?” he rasps, licking his lips.

I lift up his t-shirt, feeling his taut abdomen with my fingers. “I’m sure.”

“Thank fuck,” he growls, leaning down and kissing me deeply. I moan into his mouth as he tastes my tongue, and kisses me in a way that has me so turned on, I want more. I need more. I’m panting when he pulls away to remove his t-shirt, throwing it to the ground. His body is perfectly muscled. Smooth, tanned skin covers an impressive chest and sculptured abs. I didn’t think a body like this existed in real life.

“Why wear a shirt at all?” I ask breathlessly. I’m going to lick every inch of that body tonight, that’s for damn sure.

Grayson’s lips twitch, his eyes still trained on me. He toes off his shoes, and then undoes the button on his jeans. I hold my breath as he pulls them down, and he’s left standing before me in all his naked glory. He was going commando.

“Breathe, Paris,” he says softly, and I instantly suck in a breath of air. His eyes roam to my breasts, which are straining against my white cotton singlet. I pull it off, my shorts following, leaving me in just a black bra and matching panties. He steps to me, kissing me on the lips and then on the spot where my shoulder meets my neck.

“You’re amazing,” he says into my ear, making me gasp as he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him, my breasts in his face as he leans me back onto the bed. Pulling down the cups of my bra, he takes my nipple into his mouth, drawing it in and sucking gently. My head throws back onto the pillow, my fingers pulling gently on the ends of his hair, wanting more, wanting everything he can give. He kisses down my stomach, and then pulls down my panties as he nibbles on my hipbone. Without warning, his mouth is on me, licking, tasting. My thighs soon tremble, on the verge of release. When he sucks on my clit, my back arches as intense pleasure takes over.

“Fuck,” I curse, panting. I put my wrist over my eyes, catching my breath. I feel weak and blissful at the same time. I sit up and look at Grayson, who is kneeling on the bed, watching me. A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes me in, his eyes full of satisfaction. “Someone looks smug,” I say, grinning.

“Someone isn’t done with you… yet,” he says, crawling up over me. “Not even close.”

I smile. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

He grins at me wolfishly.

“Condom?” I ask.

His eyes widen, and he nods, leaning down to pull one out of his wallet. Looks like someone was hopeful.

“I’d almost forgotten,” he says. “I’ve never been with anyone without a condom before.”

“Okay,” I mumble, swallowing nervously.

He opens the packet and slides the condom on his length, and then touches me intimately with his finger. I’m dripping wet.

“Hmmmm,” he groans, leaning over me and sliding into me, kissing my lips at the same time. I wince at the pain as he enters me, not as bad as I had expected but still enough to hurt.

He suddenly stills. “You’re a virgin?” he whispers, looking confused. His voice sounds like he’s in physical pain, and his eyes widen as he pulls back, looking down on me with an expression I can only explain as shock. He moves away from me.

I swallow, reaching for the covers to hide my body. “Is that a problem?” I ask in a small voice. He runs his hand through his hair, grabs his clothes, and gets dressed in silence.

And then he walks out without looking back.

I don’t sit in my usual lunch spot under the tree. I skip my next class and go home for lunch instead. Grayson has been calling and texting me nonstop since the ‘incident’, as I like to call it, but I don’t want to talk to him. It’s been two days. I have no idea why he acted like that, walking out without a word. I guess I didn’t really know him at all. I avoided his pleading gaze in class today, and even when he sat next to me, I ignored his presence as best as I could. I was the first person out of that class, walking as fast as my legs could take me. And this is why you don’t start something with someone you have to see all the time. It’s awkward, and frankly it hurts to look at him.