LOGAN 
“See, sometimes compliance isn’t so bad now, is it?” I flashed a devilish smile.

“You mean seducing me into submission?”

“I haven’t seduced you. Must be my body spray, the Axe effect.”

“Hmm, right,’” she muttered sarcastically as she hoisted her weight up on the island, sitting on the dark marble countertop. Ava crossed one toned thigh over the other and rested her palms behind her.

“Let’s see, I’ve got some sushi, cold cuts…” I gave her a list of options as I scavenged my refrigerator.

“Do you have any fruit?”

“Yes, plenty.”

“I’ll just have an apple or something.”

An apple? I grabbed a bag of assorted berries and some red and green grapes. When I finally faced her, I nearly dropped everything on the floor. She was still sitting in the same position. The only difference was that she was topless now, wearing only a black bra, and her black lace thong was dangling off the toe of her stiletto. I was surprised she hadn’t set that island on fire. She embodied everything that was tantalizing in that moment.

“Who’s seducing who, now?” I finally found my voice, placing the fruit down on the counter.

“I’m playing your little game of foreplay,” Ava replied. “Even though I’d much rather get down to business.”

“This isn’t a business transaction between us,” I tried to stop myself from staring at her breasts, but failed.

“I suppose not,” she sighed. “I bet you’ve been restless all week,” she slowly parted her legs and let the thong fall to the floor. “Staying up late at night, thinking about me, being inside me… deep… hard… fucking.”

It was as if she was a seductress, possessing my soul with her dark, spellbinding gaze.

“I could fuck you so hard on this counter, you might need a wheel chair come the morning.”

Even her less than amused laughter was sexy.

“Why don’t you prove it? I managed to slip out of your bed just fine the last time we slept together.”

“That’s because I went easy on you. Normally, I don’t like to go gentle.” That was the truth. “And are you planning to disrobe completely naked?” I asked, turning my attention to the sink to rinse the fruit.

“No. You’re going to be the one to do the rest of the undressing on this body.”

I snickered under my breath and dried my hands with a dish towel.

“Do you always play sex music when you have a woman over?”

I sorted the fruit in a bowl and turned around, gravitating towards her.

“Last time I checked, this was considered a love song, not a sex tune.”

“I like your music. It brings out my inner nympho.”

“Correction,” I moved in between her legs and stared at her, “I’m the one who brings out your inner nympho.”

Ava’s eyes wandered down my body, hinting that she was hungrier for my cock than my hospitality. She placed her hands on my shoulders and felt her way down my chest.

“Feed me,” she requested, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me in closer.

My temperature was rising by the second, and it certainly didn’t cool down when she took her time unbuttoning my shirt. I looked over at the glass bowl and picked a cherry, bringing it to the lips of the goddess. She opened her sensuous mouth, consuming the crimson fruit, as I pulled the twig off. I enjoyed watching her eat. There was sensuality in the way she chewed.

The song that was playing from my docked iPhone faded out, as a new track faded in.

“Now this is sex music,” I whispered, raising a small plate to her lips so she could spit out the pit.

“Who’s the artist?”

“Trentemoller, he’s a Danish music producer. This one’s a re-worked version of Moan.”

“You mean remixed?” Ava grabbed a grape and popped it in my mouth.

I chewed and swallowed before replying, “Same thing.”

“Here’s an interesting tidbit of information I’m going to share with you, since you’re so hell bent on getting to know me better. I don’t go to clubs to get laid. I go because I like to fuck the music on the dance floor. I have this strange obsession with sound waves and vibrations. It turns me on. You know that feeling when the bass starts pounding through your chest?”

“Yes, but I still have no bloody clue as to how you can ‘fuck music.’”

“Well, I can tell you this much, it leaves less of a mess.”

I chuckled in response.

“The biggest sex organ is the brain,” Ava continued. “It’s all mental stimulation. I don’t need penetration to get off. I don’t even need to touch myself. I can do it hands free.”

Fuck me. Someone was gifted.

“I’m hyper aware of everything around me. Sensitive to touch, imagery, and sound. Once I’m on the dance floor, I scope my surroundings, photographically memorizing who and what is around me before I close my eyes.”

“Why do you do that?”

“So that I don’t completely lose touch with reality. I have to remember where I am if I intend to come back.” she simpered.

What planet did this woman come from? She was out of this world.

“Some religions ban music because they believe it puts you in a state of trance— basically hypnotism, which is true. I guess it leaves your soul vulnerable to satanic influences, if such a thing even exists,” she tittered.

“Tell me what you see when you close your eyes.”

“That’s way too personal to share.”

I had never met anyone like her before. She had me more than intrigued. It took every ounce of effort to force myself away from her.

“Where are you going?” Ava asked.

I said nothing and headed towards the corner of my kitchen. There were four overhead lamps hanging above her, and I had four switches next to me. I turned off three of them, leaving only one on; the lamp that was hanging right above Ava’s head. She glanced up at it, and then looked at me.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” I left the kitchen and strolled into the living room, turning up the music before returning.

“Show me,” my hands slid up her outer thighs, as I kept my gaze on her.

“Show you what?” she asked in a flirtatious way.

“How you fuck the music.”

She stared at me for a couple seconds, contemplating something in her mind.

“Are you a voyeur, Professor Wesley?” Ava smiled wickedly, slowly rolling her hips side to side, which was quite impressive since she was sitting down.

“No, but I think I might have discovered a new fetish.”

She raised her arms in the air and brought her wrists together as if they were bound by invisible rope, circling and overlapping them over each other in a twisting motion. It was so sexy. I was captivated, watching her slender fingers glide across her collar bones, dropping her bra strap down her left shoulder. She repeated the same ritual on the right. I held my breath when she unhooked her bra at the back.

Oh fuck, those perfect tits were my weakness. All of her appeared to be.

Ava Summers equals Logan Wesley’s weakness. I mentally scribbled it down in black ink on a note in my mind. But it proved to be useless, because all I could feel was this undeniable pull, regardless of the hazard signs I kept seeing around her.

She moved like a snake, hypnotizing me with her sexual choreography. Wherever she was in her mind, I wanted to be there too. Whatever alternate reality she had traveled to, I desired to be next to her.

Relinquishing resistance, I slipped a grape in my mouth and leaned towards her lips, kissing her softly before I carefully coaxed the grape onto her tongue.

“That was so erotic.” Ava whispered.

“I figured I’d impress you with a little bit of talent after what you just showed me. Extremely hot by the way. I wish I was the music,” I kissed her again and then asked, “May I express a personal observation?”

“Sure,”

“You weren’t fucking the music. You were making love to it. All I could see was passion, nothing crude or hard-core.”

Her cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink, which I found quite attractive.

“You disassociate yourself from feeling anything deep when we have sex. But you emotionally connect to a song. I could see it in the way you danced.”

“Do you want me to dance on your cock? Because I could,” she laughed.

“Tempting, but again, you wouldn’t be connecting with me.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t?” Ava managed to finish unbuttoning my shirt, pushing the collar back over my shoulders and tugging the sleeves down.

“Because I see through you.”

“How are my organs looking?” she dropped the shirt on the floor. “Cancer free I hope.”

I quirked an eyebrow at her, smiling when she kissed my neck.

“I didn’t mean literally.”

“I know what you meant,” she murmured, caressing my chest with her hands. They felt ice cold. I wondered if she was iron deficient.

“Ava,” I breathed her name. “I haven’t finished feeding you.”

Her hands wandered further down my body, as she kept kissing my neck.

“Feed me while you fuck me.” She unfastened my belt, pulled down the fly, and rubbed her palm against my stiff cock.

“Someone’s already standing at attention,” her soft laughter filled my ears before she reclined and rested on her elbows. I watched her spread her legs more, inviting me to slide inside.

“You have a really sexy body for a guy your age. But of course, you knew that.”

“Is that the only thing you like about me?”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

The girl wasn’t a brainless airhead. All the essays she had written and handed in only proved her genius and high intellect. I knew she was intelligent. She didn’t lack in that area at all, but she lacked the ability to express her emotions. I wanted to remind her that she was human, not a brick wall. Life was a masquerade to her, and in her eyes, I was just another masquerader. I wanted to see beyond what she showed the rest of the world. I wanted to unveil her, but I knew she wasn’t ready to take that mask off.

“So, are you going to beat up my pussy, or do you still plan on going gentle after over exaggerating about the wheel chair?”

That was enough motivation to get me to whip it out, close whatever space between our bodies, and hike up her skirt more until those smooth, pink lips were visible. Ava moaned when I shoved two fingers inside her.

“See, I’m already wet and ready for you.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you a proper pounding, love. Don’t worry.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” she sat up right and looked at me in a serious way.

“You remind me of myself in so many ways,” I said, as I slid my fingers in and out of her tight entry, stretching her so she could adjust to my length with little discomfort.

“Then you really must be a self-centred man. Is that some twisted sexual fantasy you’ve always had? Fucking your female doppelganger?”

I drove my fingers in deeper, making her gasp.

“Do you always have a counterargument for everything I say?”

“I could be captain of the debate team,” she grinned.

“But let me guess, you’re too cool to participate in such extra circular activities?”

She held my face and kissed my lips with such fiery passion. I was sure I would combust in my boxer briefs.

“You really are smart, professor.” Ava broke the kiss, resting her forehead against mine.

“Do you enjoy calling me that, Ms. Summers?”

“I don’t know, there’s something about formal speech that turns me on during scandalous encounters, such as this one.”

“Does it turn you on knowing I hold some authority over you?” I started to stimulate her clit with my thumb, slowly circling it.

“I think you should demonstrate that authority,” she kissed me once more, wilder and untamed, as I grabbed her thighs and yanked her forward in one swift pull.

“I want you,” Ava whispered, enticing me with nothing but desire in her eyes.

I reached for the fruit bowl and picked a ripe, red strawberry.

“Open that sweet mouth for me,” I commanded in a low tone of voice.

She obeyed and parted her insatiable lips.

“Don’t eat it until I say. Just bite on the tip, gently,” I instructed.

She listened and kept those dark pools fixed on me, as I pulled out my constricted cock and guided the tip right to her clit.

“Does that feel good?” I flashed a crooked smile and bit down on the other end of the strawberry while pushing into her tight, wet, folds. She moaned her pleasure into my mouth, and I sucked on her bottom lip before withdrawing and chewing on my share of the fruit.

“Oh god,” Ava leaned her weight back and tightened her legs around my waist so that I was completely inside of her.

“I’m not done feeding you,”

“I don’t want to eat. I just want you to fuck my brains out.”

“I can do both,” I slipped a grape into her mouth and cupped her right breast, thrusting myself inside her at a measured pace. She cried out in ecstasy, letting me know that I was stimulating her G spot.

“Is this what you want?”

Her breathing grew laboured. “Harder,”

“Not yet,” I reached for her arms and steered them around my neck before I gripped her hips and hauled her forward. Ava gasped once more from the unexpected impact.

“There, that’s better,” I said, picking a few black berries from the bowl.

“Logan, I can’t think. I can’t eat. I just need you to fu...”

Her sentence was cut off by another one of my kisses, as I devoured her lips until she was breathless.

“Don’t pull out,” she respired, begging me with her eyes.

“I won’t,” I brought our lips together again before feeding her some more fruit.

“Why are you torturing me?” Ava asked.

“I’m not. I’m prolonging the experience and making it more pleasurable.”

“For you, not for me.”

“There’s pleasure in eating, especially ‘forbidden fruit,’” I added, slipping a red grape in her mouth. She ate it and I rewarded her with a tongued kiss.

“How do you know the forbidden fruit was grapes?”

“I don’t. Each religious denomination has its own interpretation. Some say the fruit that Adam and Eve tasted were grapes, others say it was a tree of figs, pomegranates…”

“And what do you believe?” she left a trail of kisses up my jugular vein.

“I believe it’s irrelevant. The fact of the matter is, the fruit was forbidden and they ate it.”

“Keeping it simple. I like that. But isn’t it sacrilegious to have this discussion while having sex?”

“God gave us sex organs, did he not?” I proposed, feeding her a strawberry.

“If I were to believe in him, then I would say yes, he did.”

“Are you an Atheist?”

“My faith in God is never consistent. It changes just as quickly as I change my clothes on a daily basis,” Ava answered.

“I’m not disrespecting our creator by discussing religious facts while making love to you.”

“Is that what you’re doing, making love to me? Premarital sex is a sin by the way.”

“What if I told you that I feel our souls have been married in another life time, and reunited through some ordained divine prophecy when we first laid eyes on each other, what then?” I kissed her and fed her some more black berries.

“Then I would say you’re the world’s biggest bull-shitter and deserve a golden globe, because if you ran that line on any other woman, you would successfully get her into bed. How many women have you fooled, Logan?”

She was hitting a nerve.

“Fortunately for me, I know your typical breed.”

“I’m not a dog. I’m a man. Don’t be so quick to categorize me and give me a baseless label.”

“Don’t tell me ‘sweet nothings’ that you don’t mean, because that’s all it is, nothing.”

She was so strict with her convictions. Though, I really did wonder how she truly felt about me.

“You think I’ve said that to another woman before? I was being serious.”

Ava threw her head back and let out a humorless laugh. “How about we talk less, and just proceed with the countertop banging?”

“Are you afraid of a little altercation, Ava? It could always lead to make up sex. Doesn’t that turn you on? A heated argument, and then some hard, rough…” I began to thrust myself into her, making her breasts bounce. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensation. I fucking loved to watch the expressions on her face during sex. But as quickly as I started, I stopped, slowed down, and continued with my initial assignment.

“Does it turn you on to watch me eat?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“I think it’s pretty clear that everything about you turns me on.”

She held my gaze for a moment, looking surprised that I made such an honest declaration.

“Minus the fags?”

“Minus the fags,” I repeated, slipping one berry into her mouth after another, requiring only a kiss, as payment for my generosity.

“You have this dark sensuality about you, and I find it so attractive, Ava.”

She fed me a strawberry and grazed her lips against mine, licking them erotically. “What else do you find attractive about me?”

A wave of chills rippled through my torso when she dragged her bottom lip across my shoulder, biting it playfully. Her arms unraveled from around my neck, as she slid her palms back on the counter, until she was lying flat on her back. I felt privileged to gaze upon her gorgeous body.

“I’ll let my hands answer that question for you,”

There wasn’t a single area of skin that my fingertips did not touch and caress.

My hands travelled around her navel, up her ribcage, to the perfect globes that rebounded every time I penetrated her harder. I leaned towards her lips and kissed her avidly, deserting all control I had previously possessed.

If Ava was sweet, red wine, I was savouring her and drinking her soul. Only with the determined hope that I could heal it and pour it back into that empty bottle that she called her heart. I was consuming her, desperately trying to resurrect her love and make it rise from her hidden core that was sealed inside a coffin. I was merely a man, performing a task that was as difficult as necromancy. How could I summon her spirit? Our bodies had coupled together, but what about our souls?

Could she see how badly I desired to reach that secret part of her that no one else was allowed to see? When she stared into my eyes, what did she think about? How amazing my cock felt? How mouth-watering my body was? No, I refused to believe she was shallow. It was a front. It was all a front. The final act of Ava Summers. She would’ve made any playwright proud.

Whatever shattered part of me that I carried inside, didn’t feel so broken when I made love to her, and I couldn’t understand it. Yes, I was making love to her. I wasn’t fucking her. I had fucked enough women in my life to know the difference. What we were doing wasn’t even close to the countless nights of rough, meaningless sex I was accustomed to.

This beautiful woman that could’ve passed for a Victoria’s Secret model, was on my kitchen counter with her legs spread, willing to let me take her in every which way I pleased. And yet, all I desired was to make direct contact with the person she hid behind those brown eyes. I didn’t want to fuck an empty shell. There was more to her than that. There had to be.

“Logan, I can’t take it anymore. I want to come.”

“I’ll give you the best come of your life, love. Trust me.”

“Don’t call me lo...”

I kissed her to shut her up. “I know. It’s hard to break that habit when I look at you.”

“Do you always have conversations with women while you have sex with them?”

She raised herself upright, wrapping her arms around my shoulders for support. I liked holding her closer like this. I liked the intimacy. I needed it.

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome.”

“Why?” I asked, grabbing her thighs and slowly thrusting inside her while she breathed on my neck.

“Because I’d be gone if you weren’t.” Ava managed to get the words out.

I caressed her shoulder with my lips, licking and blowing on it to make her shiver.

“Did I make you jealous tonight?” she asked, meeting my eyes.

“Insanely,”

“You know what that means, right?”

“I’m human?” I answered with a kiss, but she stopped it from escalating into a full out snog-fest.

“It means you care more than you should. I feel sorry for you, Logan.”

“Why?”

“Because I destroy everyone who loves me.”

I could relate. That’s exactly how I used to feel about myself.

“How are you so sure that I’m in love with you?”

“Because you want to make love to me and not fuck me.”

“Don’t let that twinkle in my eye fool you. These baby blues are just naturally charming,” I expressed with sarcasm, kissing her passionately for the longest while, until we were both left breathless.

“I skipped class this week because all I could think about was wanting to sit on your cock,” she whispered against my lips.

“You’re lying,” I accused, holding her face.

“Yes, I am,” Ava giggled. “Had you going there for a sec though,” she laughed and bit my bottom lip, dragging her nails down my chest. I groaned when I felt her muscles contract and tighten around my shaft. Forget every definition of the word “sexual” and simplify the meaning to just two words; Ava Summers.

“What do I have to do to get you to fuck me senseless?” she asked, parting my lips with her tongue.

I kissed her long and deeply before I stopped moving and just stared at her. “Let’s play a game,” I reached for the bowl of fruit and pulled it closer. “I’m going to share some observations and conclusions I’ve drawn about you, and if the information is accurate, you open your mouth and eat whatever I put inside of it.”

“I’ve concluded that you’re not human, professor.”

“Why’s that?” I chuckled, whilst eating a grape.

“Because if it were any other man between my legs, he would’ve been cumming all over my tits and stomach by now. Maybe even going for round two afterwards.”

“Don’t talk about other pricks whilst my prick is inside you.”

“Hah, fair enough,” a devious smile touched her lips. “Let’s play.”

I ate another grape and thought for a moment before I pulled her in all the way, drenched entirely in her wetness. She leaned back and rested her weight on her elbows, not ashamed of her full frontal nudity.

“You’ve had your heart broken before. Badly. To the point where you feel you no longer possess one in there,” I wanted to point at her chest, but ended up massaging her left breast in my hand instead.

It took her long enough, but she opened her mouth and let me feed her a raspberry.

“You don’t believe in love,” I continued.

She didn’t hesitate to drop her jaw this time.

“But you want to believe in it,” I added, waiting patiently. “Come on, Ava.”

“You’re wrong. What’s your next educated guess? Let’s hear it.”

“You’re lost. You feel like it’s you against the world, and you have no direction most times. Even if I were to place a compass in your hands, it would break, because that’s what you believe would happen, and that’s how you perceive yourself. Broken. You believe that you’re powerful only in the way that you possess the ability to break people.”

“I don’t want to play this game anymore. Get off me.” She tried to sit up, but I leaned over her so she could feel my cock slam right into her cervix. I made her shudder from my forceful thrust.

“We both know that’s not what you really want. Now, is it?”

“You won’t fucking give me what I want.” She lay back once more, staring up at me with flaming eyes.

“I should punish you for all the cursing you do around me.”

I gripped her thighs and propelled right into her, thrusting as hard and as deep as I could go. My balls slapped against that smooth, majestic pussy, as she cried out in pleasure. Her breasts kept bouncing while I found a steady rhythm.

“Fuuuuuuuuckkkkk!” Ava moaned, holding onto the edge of the counter and pulling her weight down so she could feel my cock pound into her.

“You like that, huh? Dirty girl,” I shoved two fingers into her mouth and watched her suck it like she was sucking all eight inches of me.

“Fucking abuse my cunt!”

I went insane with my probing, as a pressure began to build. I wanted release, but not before I made her brain dead from a seizing orgasm.

“Oh god… yes! Yes!” she screamed while I sped up, squeezing her amazing tits in my hands and pinching her nipples.

“Slap me,”

Did I hear that correctly?

“Fucking slap me!” Ava demanded.

I slowed down and looked straight in her eyes. Bloody hell, she was dead serious.

“Do it, come on. Slap me across the face.”

“Ava,” I looked at her in confusion.

I had walked through the dark doors of BDSM before. It wasn’t something that I wanted to make part of my lifestyle, let’s put it that way.

“Just hit me, Logan!”

“No!”

I hunched over, staring at her with fierce intensity. “I change my mind. We’re going to do this slow,” my tone grew gentler. “Nice and slow,” I expressed, brushing the hair out of her face.

“Come on, I’m close,” she panted, grinding against me like a nymphomaniac. It felt so fucking good, but I was skilled enough to control ejaculation.

With the intention to pacify her through a kiss, I was somewhat shell-shocked when I was assaulted with a hard slap across the cheek.

“Hit me, you bastard!” Ava attempted to strike me again, but I caught her wrist, demonstrating my dominance by pinning both wrists back on the counter.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shouted, losing my temper.

She suddenly burst out laughing like a mad woman.

“Have you gone completely mental?”

Maybe I had underestimated her sanity. She closed her eyes and laughed like she had just seen the best stand-up act of her life.

“You want to be fucked like a whore?” I asked, wasting no time and pulling out of her. “I’ll fuck you like one.” Utilizing my strength, I flipped her over so that her arse was facing me.

Ava cried out in pain and pleasure when I thrust my throbbing cock inside of her cunt. Her painful cries increased once I twisted my fist in her hair and pulled like she was a disobedient dog on a leash.

“Ohhhhhhhmmmmmgggooddddd!” She moaned louder.

My breathing grew jagged and harsh as I continued to shove my steel shaft into her, abandoning the careful control I initially had, surrendering purely to animal instincts. I tugged on her hair, pulling her head up, so that her shoulders were almost level with mine. Her back was pressed against my chest now.

“Are you my slut?” I whispered in her ear, while I proceeded cervical destruction.

“Yes,” she whimpered in a way that made me feel like that question had magically stimulated her more than my cock.

“Are you my fucking bitch?”

“Oh god, yes!”

I released her hair, slid my arms under hers, and clutched her breasts, painfully pulling on those bullets. She gasped, breathing harder as I wildly kissed her neck.

“Bend the fuck over for me,” I growled in her ear, pushing her down and holding her by the nape of her neck. This is what she wanted, to be man handled.

Ava screamed, feeling me drive deeper into her womb. I was becoming more aggressive with every thrust, as she continued to cry out, provoking me with one expletive after another.

“I’m going to cum, oh god… oh-my-fuck-ing…”

And then I felt it; the spasm of muscles contracting and squeezing my shaft, stimulating my own release.

“Fuck, Ava! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I pulled out, stroking my cock, crazy fast until I exploded all over that perfect arse. Deed; done. Pussy; beaten.

oOo 
AVA 
I cleaned up and walked out of the bathroom with every intention of dipping out of there as quickly as possible. Logan had dressed himself, leaving only his shirt buttons undone. That body was so damn fuckable. But it wasn’t just his body that was my weakness, it was those eyes that were an unbelievable cobalt blue. That’s why I tried to avoid his gaze at all costs.

“Thanks for the sex. I’m going to head home now.”

“Ava, what the fuck?”

He sauntered over to me, as my heart leapt in my chest. I didn’t like this feeling. Not one bit.

“We banged, shagged, fucked, whatever you want to call it. Now I’m leaving.”

“You’re the first woman to want to leave my bedside after sex,” he stated, folding his arms in his chest.

“Aw, so this is about your bruised ego. Isn’t it?” I pouted in a mocking manner.

“If anyone’s being egotistical here, it’s you.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow bullshit,” I sneered, heading towards the door.

“Wait just a minute,” he caught my wrist and pulled me back. “How can you…” Logan trailed off and held out my forearm, touching the skin with his fingers.

Oh shit, I had accidentally off washed the foundation. He looked at me with this shocked expression, as the reality of my situation sunk in.

“Was this a suicide attempt?” his eyes appeared frantic.

“No,” I yanked my wrist out of his grasp and walked over to the sofa to retrieve my coat.

Logan cursed under his breath, “How did I miss this before?”

“The magic of makeup,” I flashed an ironic smile.

“Are you self-mutilating? Answer my question.”

“It’s none of your business how I got those scars.” I wasn’t sure if I was angry that he found out, or angry because he cared.

“Ava, don’t leave.”

I zipped up my leather coat and was already in my heels.

“Why are you pushing me away? Can you at least answer that?”

Why, why, why, I was tired of all these questions!

“Because I don’t want to need you, okay? I don’t need anybody. I don’t need you to care about me, so please stop pretending like you do.”

“You think I’m pretending?” he frowned, looking upset and offended. “You honestly believe that my coming down to that night club was me pretending to care? Do you enjoy taking the piss out of me?”

Professor Wesley and his “lovely” English slang. I ignored him and reached for the doorknob.

“You’re not leaving,” he slammed his hand down on the mahogany door, so that I couldn’t open it.

“Are you holding me hostage?”

“There’s something going on between us.”

“Yes, of course there is. It’s called sexual attraction. If ignored, it accumulates, thickening the tension between us, until one of us eventually caves and we wind up with our clothes off.”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s more than that. Admit it.”

The only thing I could admit in that moment was how he was turning me on. That voice, his accent, that masculine scent of his cologne, the close proximity of our bodies. Too close for comfort. We were a recipe for disaster, and I was the dangerous catalyst.

“I’m damaged goods, Logan.”

“So am I.” His tone was sincere, but I didn’t want to believe him. How could he be damaged? He didn’t look it. He had this amazingly fulfilled life with everything going for him, while all odds were against me. They always were. We had nothing in common.

“You don’t have scars all over your body.”

“My scars are skin deep.” He took my hand and placed it on his chest, right where his heart was. This felt so familiar and foreign to me all at the same time. I shivered inside, feeling freaked right out.

“I’m doing you a favor by walking away. There are a list of reasons as to why I wouldn’t be good for you, never mind all the laws we’re breaking at the moment.”

“I like to live on the edge.”

“Right, that’s why you’re a university professor. Coming here was a mistake.” I repossessed my hand and looked away from his mesmerizing gaze.

“Your mistake, or mine?”

“What do you want from me? I don’t believe in love. I don’t believe in commitment and relationships. It’s all an illusion, anyway. People lie to themselves day in and day out, thinking they have found their ‘epic love,’ when in reality all they’ve found is an epic disappointment. They realize it one way or another. And if they don’t, then they’re just fucking stupid and blind.”

“Who broke your heart, Ava?” his voice was so gentle and heartfelt, and his eyes even more so. Why couldn’t he just let me go?

“Don’t assume that someone did. I’m not some ancient artwork for you to analyze and study. Let me leave.”

If I stayed a minute longer, I would’ve thrown myself at him just to evade all this deep discussion.

“I’m not looking to study you, for fucks sake. I just…”

I couldn’t be around him. I had to leave. I had to get out of there. A panic attack was creeping up on me.

“Ava, please. Just stay the night. Let’s talk.”

“Don’t you get it? That’s exactly what I want to avoid with you! Are you going to let me fucking leave or not?” I practically screamed at him. Logan looked at me for the longest five seconds of my life, and then finally dropped his hand.

“Let me take you home.”

“No! Just stay the hell away from me!”

It wasn’t like he could. Technically, I was enrolled in his class and we were bound to run into each other. But I just couldn’t do this, anymore. I opened the door and marched out, never looking back.

***** 
It was almost three in the morning when Ava stepped into her small studio apartment. She was on the verge of having a really bad anxiety attack. Her breath came short as she fought back tears that refused to obey, as they rolled down her cheeks.

“No, no, no!” She thrust her hands in her hair and wiped away the wet mascara from her face. “I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to fucking cry over you!” Her sanity was splintering to pieces, as she walked over to her stereo and switched it on. Thom Yorke began to sing Hearing Damage, and she cranked up the volume higher, not caring about waking the neighbours.

Ava took off her leather coat and tossed it on her bed before she walked into her bathroom and stared into the mirrored.

Weak. You’re so fucking weak.

“I’m not!” She shouted, desperately trying to filter her hurt and replace it with rage.

You have feelings for him, that mocking voice whispered in her ear.

“I don’t,”

It was nothing but internal warfare at that moment. If anyone walked in on her, they would’ve thought she was crazy.

You’re falling for Logan.

Ava opened the cabinet and took out a disposable razor. She snapped it in half, letting the plastic, pink, pieces fall into the sink. Once she got the blade out, she held it between her thumb and index finger, like some prized possession. It was just her, the blade, the Devil, and God, as she contemplated a life altering decision. Her logic was quickly clouded by amplified emotion, a painful past that was materializing around her and suffocating her with haunting images that would not disappear.

“I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me! I will never forgive you!” She screamed her distress, crying angry tears that kept on flowing. Ava stared at the scars on her arms and began to weep.

I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this anymore. Every time I do, he wins.

Her hands were shaking, as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the edge of the sink. A sea of red. It was all she could see and think about to numb the agonizing pain inside.

I will have justice one day for what you did to me. I will have my revenge. She dropped the razor and left the bathroom. There was a bottle of Vodka in her kitchen cabinet, and it was calling her name. Ava gulped down the liquor like a dehydrated person in dire need of H-2O. The alcohol burned at the back of her throat, but she didn’t care.

Feeling sick and exhausted, she retired to her bedroom and dropped her weight down on her mattress, curling into a fetal position. The girl who swore she would never cry in front of anyone, cried herself to sleep.