Temptation

She's getting closer; closer with her advances, closer, closer, closer.
Too close for comfort, I can't stand it.
It's killing me.
She's circling.

Her lips are on my ear, she's whispering things she shouldn't, her hand is trailing down my chest, lower, lower, oh.
I can't take this. I'm not able to protest anymore, I can't do this, I should've said no when I had the chance.

This is what she's waited for, she's waited for me to break, for me to let her in.
Her short but powerful fingernails are trailing down my bare back and I can't help but arch against her touch. I don't know what's come over me, I've never been in this position before. I've never been taken advantage of, I've never let it get this far. Ever, with anyone.

Especially with her, with someone like her, someone who does the things she does.
Her left hand is rubbing circles beneath my belly button, so close but so far away.
I couldn't stop her even if I wanted to now, because I don't want her to, I want it to go to all the way, need it to go all the way.

I can feel her grin against my skin and when she speaks those words, I know I've made a mistake: "I knew you'd give in, Tate, I knew you wanted me over her."
But I didn't! I didn't want her! I wanted what she was doing to me! I did, and when I tried to open my mouth to deny this, tell her what's really going on, she presses her mouth hard against mine, battling from the start.

She finally touches where I've been aching for touch as she does this, hoping that I won't pull away because even idiots, even she would know that I don't want her kisses.
I won't; I don't; I can't.

And I jerk my head away and step back, breathing hard, far too hard and sound far too excited, but the words leave my mouth regardless:
"You're a slut, a good for nothing whore, Sage, and I don't want to be a part of this. I want her, I've always wanted her and I don't, nor will I ever want you. Do you hear me? I DON'T WANT YOU!" I shout and then, I'm fumbling with my pants trying to get them zipped, pulled up, buttoned, something before the door behind us can slam because I have this feeling, the feeling that someone is going to pop out and throw accusations around. I have a feeling that this someone will be Sam, because who in the fuck else would it be? Only Sam could ruin in, only Sam could pull me out of that... that trance.

The door creaks open and I’m afraid to turn around, afraid to see.

Maybe it’s not Sam.

It probably is.

I can’t look.

I don’t want to know.

Oh, God, please let it be someone else.