21. Lust for him

Listen to I Want It That Way by Backstreet boys.

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Lust becomes a good thing for that one person you're crazy about. But it doesn't mean they're going to be with you forever. They might stay for as long as possible, but not forever. Because to me, forever doesn't exist.

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"LEAVE ME ALONE, Percy."

"What's wrong sissy? I haven't even touched you yet, but you're already freaking the shit out."

He tries to move away, but Percy and his fellow assholes blocks his path.

And Percy slams him against the wall.

"You look ugly today, creep." Percy growls into his ear from his behind, fingers traveling their way down to inside his butt. My steps flatters at this, with me hugging my books to my chest, with curiosity getting the best of my uncertain thoughts.

It's after second period, three days after I was released, and a Friday, when I was heading to Government class when I saw Percy and his friends grabb Sam who just emerge from his music class and pulled him into the male's locker room.

"Really, I look ugly?" I hear Sam ask him, tears at the brim of his eyes.

"Yeah."

"Good, that's because I wanted to look like you today. I would've loved to insult you, but I'm afraid I wouldn't do a good job like nature did."

A look of disbelief and confusion clouds Percy's face, which makes Sam repeats his words loud and clear, while Percy's friends bursts into fits of laughter.

Sam burts into laughter too, although his sounds like a whimper of help.

Enrage, Percy slams Sam against the wall again, and grips out Sam's pant, that a high pitch sound escapes the boy's lips.

I feel a pang on the pit of my stomach, because Percy is bullying Sam over what I did. I grimace with guilt, and I hate my self over my evil deeds.

They are laughing, and calling him a sissy, while Sam outcries in pain and wets his pants when Percy pulls even harder, gritting his teeth when veins out stands on his neck.

I take a shuddered breath when I feel something crawl on my skin

"Hey dickhead, let go off him."

Instantly, they snap their heads up at the sound of my voice. A smirk forms on Percy's lips and he grips even harder on Sam, when he sees that it's me.

"Hey Kate." His eyes does a once over at my appearance and he flashes me a perverted wink. The bastard has been hitting on me even when I dated his retard of a best friend, Tristan.

"I won't repeat myself, Percival." I cross my arms over my chest, and stare at him down my nose.

"Uh, who the hell invited you to meddle into our affair?" One of Percy's friends asks me, while another pushes his glasses up, attempts to speak, then shuts his flap.

"You have the right to remain silent shitface, because whatever you have to say is going to be stupid anyway." I tell the guy, and he gulps as his cheeks heats up in embarrassment.

To Percy, I ground out through gritted teeth.

"I'm sick and tired of you bullying Sam, what the heck is wrong with you?

Let the fuck go off him." I don't even spare a glance at his fellow assholes, my eyes are fixate on his dull honey brown eyes.

"And if I don't?" He inquires with amusement twinkling in his eyes, with that he pushes Sam to the floor and kicks him on his ribs.

Sam groans in pain, getting wet from his own urine. And Percy and his friends renders several punches and kicks on his face, that he coughs out blood.

My stomach twists into a tight nut.

Boiling with anger that I vibrate and grit my teeth till my jaw hurt, I throw a punch at Percy with all my might when red rage flashes itself through my vision, before kicking him on where the sun doesn't shine.

"You obnoxious little bitch!"

I don't realize I'm being pushed to the floor until I feel my body hit the hard plastic floor.

Percy coughs out blood like Sam did thirty seconds ago, wipes his mouth with his hand, and pulls my hair hard with his bloodied hand that I scream.

Just as I think he is going to tighten his grip on my hair, his grip loosens untill he finally lets go off my hair, stumbling on a now weeping Sam on the floor.

His friends has their mouth agape, as they too recoile steps backwards with fear in their eyes like they just saw Satan himself with horns and sharp long claws like Wolverine.

My eyes slowly trace to what they are staring at, untill they settle on a figure, taking his hoodie off, that his cropped short dirty blonde hair comes into view .

Max.

My head snaps over to the direction where I hear cracking of fist.

Evans, who looks murderous and bares his teeth at Tristan's friends who whimper, tremble and stumble back in fear.

And then, there is Clinton Gabe with a baseball stick that he is slapping against his open palm, and a toothpick on his mouth.

I snap my eyes over at my Max. He looks calm, relax. But his eyes, they hold fire and storm in them.

"I'm going to make you regret laying your hands on my brother.. and Kate." He says mildly, while his glare gets scarier and more threatening as he slowly walks up to where Percy is standing like a statue at the mesuem.

Percy's eyes bugs out of their sockets, it's clear he is terrified.

Evans had pulls away Sam from the floor, who is currently sobbing and hiccupping violently into his chest like a girl.

That moment, I realize Sam isn't gay by choice, no, he is gay by nature.

I'm being disrupted from my thoughts when I hear the sound of fist connecting body.

I stand up and look over at Max who is occupied decorating Percy's face with bruises. Even Clinton Gabe stands in front of the two guy's who had accompanied Percy to bully Sam, as they are grouped together and attempt to stay away from him as far as possible. He smacks their each of knees with his baseball stick and they fall to the floor, groaning at the impact.

A murmuring little crowd had gathered at the scene, and I feel a sickening feeling in my gut, as Max keeps reigning punches on Percy.

There is a pool of blood on the floor, and Percy's face looks swollenly covered in blood.

Dèja vù hits me hard and I remember the punch Max gave to me. It's something I can't forget. It had stain my view of him, despite me having feelings for him.

Like a beast, he showed no mercy to who ever got on his bad side. And it looks like if someone doesn't stop him, he'd kill Percy.

I start feeling sick, dizzy, lightheaded and empty all the contents of my stomach into a nearby trash bin.

Teary eyed Sarah and angry Miranda shoves their way pass the crowd and wraps a weep-choking Sam into a hug.

My stomach twists even more, that I almost barf my lungs out.

Percy currently looks like he has little life on him as he lays unconscious, but Max still doesn't stop. He keeps hitting, and hitting and his face and clothes gets drenched in Percy's blood.

LASH students are filming this, totally enjoying everything. No one bothers to tell a now beast-like Max to stop.

My brain recalls that he was shipped off to Military school because he constantly involved himself in fights.

My head spins and my eyes twists in their sockets as I vomitt even more.

"Stop!" Sarah is the first to scream at her brother.

"Damn, Man, you gotta stop." This is Clinton Gabe making attempts to pull away Max from Percy, which is futile.

"Stop!" Miranda screams, holding on his arm, when it starts getting worst.

"Someone call security." A student bellows at the top of her lungs.

The murmuring increase and students casts looks of disgust, fear and hate at him.

"Stop!" I scream out my insides after wiping the strips of vomit from the corner of my mouth, with my vision blurring and my legs giving out on me, as I fall to the floor.

Max halts his fist through half a punch and snaps his head at my direction.

The fire leaves his eyes when he keeps his bloodied fist down and stand up from Percy.

His feet approaching me is the last thing my blurry eyes can register, before I completely loose conciousness.

* * *

I wake up, drenched in my own sweat, not on the hard plastic floor I had collasped on, or in school and at the infirmary, but on some stranger's bed and room.

What the hell happened?

Confusion slows down my wondering thoughts, and stops when I see a sleeping Max, propped on the only couch in the bedroom. There is even a cast on his hand.

A dull pain spreads through my chest as he wakes up, as if sensing I'm awake. He walks towards me, and surprises me by kneeling in front of me, and places his warm calloused uncasted hand on my pespirationed naked knee because I'm currently sitting up right.

"I'm so sorry," He whispers, stroking gently on my knee. The little action shoots bittersweet sensations through my chest.

He looks calm now, like one who wouldn't hurt a fly, and has changed into fresh clothes.

"Why?"

"Because the dick had hurt you, and I wasn't there to prevent it."

"It's not your fault, and he really didn't hurt me, it was Sam who suffered." I gulp, looking away from him, knowing it's all my fault, and if Max can read thoughts, he'd hate me.

And Max mutter curses in his language.

"Where are we?" I ask, trying to avert the conversation, to feel less guiltier. Call me selfish, but it's best for the both of us.

"After you fainted, I told Clinton to bring you here. I got a one week suspension from Principal Brett Ambers and Percy's currently at the hospital, contemplating his sins."

"I'm sorry." My hair falls over my face as I look away from him again.

"It's not your fault." He slowly replies.

What an irony. My bitchy subconscious mocks at me.

My stomach twists into a tight nut.

Only if he knew.

Max pulls my chin up to look at him.

Darn! Why is it that whenever I look at him, he seems to be more good looking than before. His stupid green eyes are so beautiful and clouded with warmth as he analyzes and examines my all.

He orders me to stand up, I obey.

After kissing my temple and letting his warm breath fan my neck, he takes a deep breath and wraps me into a hug, with his large long lean body.

His cologne wafts my nostrils.

Knowing I'm playing a dangerous game I'm going to regret, because I'm in love with him, I decide his cologne is my favorite.

I awkwardly pat his back, wondering if he is lending me comfort or I am.

We stay like that for sometime, both enjoying the other's company untill he pulled away and asked if I was hungry.

I'm telling him I not, when my own stomach betrays me by gnawing.

I fist my fingers into ball, feeling the bite of my nails on my palm.

Chuckling, he pulls me up that my legs are propped around his waist.

"Gotta get some food in you, babe." He tells me, then smiles against my lips.

And my lips arches for his to touch mine, but he doesn't kiss me.

I get disappointed, but I do liked the sound of the word 'Babe' from his British accent.

"You weight like Miranda's Barbie dolls that I always fed their heads to my dog." He laughs softly as he carries me out of the room, down the hall way, descends the stairs and to the kitchen.

The house is dead quiet like a grave yard.

"Just the two of us here?"

He nods and places me gently on the kitchen counter.

"You cook?" I ask him and he gives me a firm nod.

"Mum was always away, and Miranda sucks at cooking. The rest of my siblings prefer take out meals. So there was this guy, Bob. He's a chef, and was a close friend to my Dad. I helped him after school hours and he taught me how to cook." He informs me, opening the cupboard and brings out a frying pan.

"I can't even make a sandwich." I laugh awkwardly, then wince, regretting because it isn't required. I feel weird, and mask it all up by letting my hair down and running my fingers to feel the length of it at my waist.

I spot bloodied finger prints of the asshole, Percival Parker's, on my hair.

"Yeah, I know." He scoffs, pulling me out of my thoughts. He takes my hair into his fingers and says. "I could help you wash your hair, if you want. And, you don't need to worry about being a sucker at cooking. Miranda is too, and we all deal with it."

I nod and he lets go of my hair.

"I know you don't need me to prepare your meals, but I will at any given chance I get."

My breath gets hitched up in my throat.

Darn!

Max is fucking sweet.

He cracks several eggs into a bowl, and stirrs with a spatula. Then he rinses the frying pan on the sink tap, places it on the gascooker, then switches the gascooker on.

I watch him chop carrots, peppers and blended garlic and onions together.

Darn! He acts like a pro at cooking.

He pours just a drop of vegetable oil into the pan, allows it to heat up for few moments, before adding sardines into pan, and stirs with the spatula.

I watch in amazement as he pours the blended ingredients into the pan, pausing to taste and adding salt, before stirring.

He isn't done with the cooking, but the aroma of whatever he is preparing fills the atmosphere and renders my stomach hungrier, that I salivate hard and clutch on my empty stomach.

He pulls out a giant wheat bread from the cupboard, peels off it's skin, cut it into huge heart size shapes, then proceeds to pour the stirred eggs into the pan.

He pecks me lightly while pulling a cup from the cupboard. And I can't tell anymore if I hunger for the food or him.

I guess both.

He fixes me three giant sandwiches and coffee with lots of cream, that I had no alternative but to take shots of it with his phone, before taking huge bites, pausing to savour and moan, as I chew.

I've never tasted something so nice for as long as I can remember. Not even the cooks could measure up with Max in cooking. They are no match for him.

Max stands back, and watches me take sips of the coffee.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He asks, clasps my left hand into his, and stares intensely at me.

"What?"

He exhales loudly, "You have no idea, do you? At how turned on I get, watching your beautiful perfect mouth bit on your food. You chew, throwing your head back and savouring every bite with your eyes closed. And your moans, Christ! They make me hard as a rock. You really gotta stop doing that if you don't want me to take you right here, and now." He jerks his hand through his short hair in frustration, and exhales rather loudly this time.

Dumbstruck, and with my mouth full, my eyes travels their way down to his front and notice the bulg in his pants.

Shivering violently with want and longing, I take a hard hurtful gulp. Tristan did get a boner whenever we kissed, and I wasn't really excited about it. But seeing Max getting hard for me renders me scared and excited, as bittersweet chills travels down my spine and cause goose bumps to outstand on my arms.

Max traces his fingers from my chin, to my jaw, then grabs one of my bust which his large palm can't contain, and he strokes.

We both groan together.

He sucks on my left bust through my bra with his hot gaze fix on me, and my leg unknowingly wraps possessively around his waist. Wanting and aching for more contact, grinding hard into him.

At this, I realize I'm ready, I want him. I'm ready to sleep with him.

I ignore the sickening feeling in my gut that reminds me he is once my bully, someone I hate, a beast when he is enraged, and he is going to ruin me and throwaway me soon, when he'd get bored. Plus he is my step brother, and Dad is going to get mad if he finds out.

Being with Max is dangerous and unhealthy, it's like I'm sinking lower and lower in to a quicksand whenever I'm with him. Because I always find myself doing the unusual things I will never do in my right mind.

What the hell did I agreed to when he said he wanted me if it isn't sex?

Can he want me just for kissing and making out?

No. He wants me for both, including sex.

I sigh loudly, blowing my hair that falls over my face and tuck it behind my ear. Then I place my hands on his hard chest, that is warm despite the fabric he has on.

With my cheeks heating up in embarrassment and chest feeling tight, I say, after a sharp intake of breath.

"I want you, now."