Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.), Page 3

  “It's because I'm in it.” The goose bumps that crawled up my skin weren't the good kind. I looked beside me to see Ryan Smith—the definition of the word douche-bag. Being a quarterback apparently gives you the right to be a jerk, and Ryan was sure to do it. Those blue eyes weren't the same kind that I liked. Instead these ones seemed to have a permanent darkness about them. I despised him. He also holds the title for top player, on and off the field. I couldn't understand how a guy could play with a girl’s heart so bad, and just be okay with it. That's Ryan for you. If you fall in love with him, you're stupid. It's as simple as that. If it wasn't for the fact that I could get terminated from the SIA, he would be dead.

  Isn't that what you did though? You led Tristan to believe that he had a chance, but you went and shot him down. You should be lucky he even still wants to be your friend.

  My own subconscious threw me off guard when reality practically sunk in. I knew from the first day that I met Tristan that there was something interesting in him, so I kept him around. I made the mistake of actually getting to know him, and unfortunately, a lot of feelings were played through-out the span of us knowing each other. I knew he wanted something more, and there was no doubt in me that I did too, but there was no way I was going to let it get any further than it was. Last night just happened to be a sudden thing. It was almost a mistake in my head.

  The more I was thinking about this, the more I was starting to believe that Ryan was the exact male version of me. But he played every person he got with. I didn't—well, not really.

  Fuck you, subconscious.

  “Don't talk to me,” I said, not entirely sure if I was directing it at the male next to me, or the hating conscious in my head.

  “I actually heard a rumor about you, Maya.” His hand pushed through my personal barrier, landing on my knee. Even though I was wearing jeans, I could still feel how rough this hand was, and that only sent a wave of disgust through me. “I heard you like your men talking dirty in your ear. Should we test it out?”

  Automatically annoyed, I grabbed his hand and bent it backwards, hearing a hiss quickly come from him. “Where did you hear that?” I whispered lowly and harshly.

  A slow smirk crawled on his lips. I hated that smirk. I pushed his hand back a tad more and the smirk faltered, but never did it disappear fully. “It depends, do you want me to whisper it to you, or do you want to meet me later in private?”

  No one around us noticed the interaction happening. The theater lights were dimmed low so all the attention could be on the ones taking the stage.

  The way Ryan was speaking, it was normal but this was different. His eyes had glassed over and darkened the minute I touched him, while I could feel his thundering pulse under the tips of my fingers. I knew what was happening. Melinda was right. My demon was hungry and she was growing impatient, fast. I needed to get this lust scent off me quick or else Ryan won't be the last person I attacked.

  Swiftly, I let go of him and turned back to face the stage. Anger grew inside me, partly because I hadn't been in the mood to feed the demon, and also because Malibu Barbie was taking the stage. I could never understand how Tori became such a pride possession of this college. From her ravishing good looks, and her bitchy attitude, you would think her and Ryan would be the perfect couple. But no, she had to go after Tristan because apparently, he was perfect. Never once did Tori and I ever end up on the same page. Actually, the first time we met, she had been glaring at me from the other side of campus, while Tristan was telling me how he had asked her out.

  Ever since that day, she had made it her job to make sure I knew that she didn't like me hanging out with her boyfriend. Tristan was oblivious to it all, as guys are. They never really understood the female population, and in Tristan's head, he thought it was some silly girl thing and we'd get over it eventually. Three months later and nothing has happened.

  Something about how she had two faces was enough to make sure I kept my distance. Sadly, that distance was too small when it came to this stupid class. The way she saunters onto the stage, like she's about to star in a Broadway, it only annoyed me.

  So far, the last day of the semester was starting to piss me off and it wasn't helping me with my current situation: my demon.

  Just wait until after class, Maya.

  Blondie smiled widely towards everyone, her eyes connecting with mine and I was sure that smile turned into a smirk. I was done by that point.

  Fuck class.

  “Come on.” I stood and walked past Ryan, heading out of the theater while the Professor wasn't looking. I didn't need to look behind me to know he would follow like a little puppy. My lust scent would draw him in like I had the one thing he needed, when really, he was willing to give me the one thing I needed.

  A set of rest rooms were just outside the theater and Ryan didn't waste any time to pull me inside the males. I don't know why it was always the males. Why can’t people just go into the females for once?

  It was empty, which was lucky—I didn't want to be seen with this guy. He took us inside a small stall, making no hesitation to place his lips straight on my neck. The kisses were rough, his lips ending at the bottom of my list of hottest body parts. The dryness of them felt prickly on my skin, and I just wanted to scratch them away. I already knew this wasn't going to be one of my top ten bathroom breaks, but the demon wanted him and right now, I had no motive to deny her. She could be so needy.

  There was no mouth to mouth involved. Hallelujah. He fumbled with the button of my jeans and then took a long ass time just trying to undo his own belt. I was halfway up the stall wall instantly, and his hands started pushing my jeans as far down as he needed. By the time he was inside, that was it for me and the demon took over.

  It lasted around ten minutes—roughly eight. He was slumped against me and breathing heavily against my chest. The warmth of his breath washed over my skin, and I couldn't do anything about it. I stood there for what felt like five minutes, the past eight minutes running through my head, and I couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into me. I never stooped this low to even think about touching Ryan, and here I was. If you asked me a year ago if I would’ve considered Ryan a potential demon filler, I would’ve told you to fuck off.

  Lately, I hardly acted like myself. I couldn't even recognize my reflection half the time.

  When I finally got over the reality of what I had done, I pushed his body away from me. At least I could leave him for a while.

  “That was the best bathroom sex I've had in ages.” His eyes were half closed and he looked up at me with a lopsided grin. I could only imagine how he felt. If you'd ever had a joint, you'd know exactly how it was: high, light, complete bliss.

  It only revolted me even more that I caused this.

  “Yeah, that's great,” I said glumly. I moved away from him and stood, buttoning up my jeans and straightening my shirt. “Just stay here, and don't do anything.”

  He managed to sit down on the closed toilet and his head slumped against the wall. He nodded—I think—and not even ten seconds later, he was passed out. I hoped no one found him here before he wakes. It was a long shot though. I've managed to knock someone out for five hours before. If anyone walked in here and got suspicious, then I wasn't going to be happy, especially if anyone saw me.

  “This is why I don't fuck around school.” I sighed and walked out of the stall. No one had entered in the past ten minutes and they were lucky. The way Ryan grunted wasn't something you wanted to hear, even if you were having a romantic moment with him.

  I sighed in relief when the coast was clear as I walked back out of the bathroom. The thought of returning to class downed my mood. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time. 9 am. I had at least another 45 minutes to go until my next class.

  I turned my back on the theater and walked out. There was no way I was going to read Shakespeare. I never saw the point in trying to reenact history. Besides, I had done that in High School. Why would they want to pu
t me through that again? No one even talks like that anymore.

  “Maya, Maya, there art thou, Maya.”

  I spoke too soon.

  I turned around and spotted Tristan leaning against a tree beside the theater. He had gone home and changed out of his jeans and put on a fresh pair, mix and matching it with a black shirt that had KISS written all over it. His hair was still as ruffled as it was when he left my room, and I wasn’t even going to bring up how good his eyes looked when the sun shone down on them.

  Look away.

  I pushed up a single brow and crossed my arms. “Really?”

  He shrugged and pushed off the tree, taking slow steps towards me. “Heard you were doing Shakespeare readings, thought I'd help out.”

  “I don't need help. I'm not doing the—” my words cut off when I noticed that the tree he had been standing behind was right beside the male's bathroom windows. And just with my luck, they were all open. My face struggled to not cringe. “How long have you been standing out here?”

  He pocketed his hands, eyes narrowed with curiosity. His gaze switched from me to the tree, then back to me, this time with a quirk on his lips. “Long enough to hear grunting from the bathroom.”

  He knew. He so fucking knew.

  I wanted to laugh, like idiotically laugh, then I wanted to jump under a bridge and stay there. “Entertaining.”

  “Yes,” he nodded and looked up thoughtfully, his body closing the space between us. “And then you happen to walk out once it's finished.” He was so close that I could smell a slight musky scent on him. The fact that he was finding this amusing only made me even more defensive.

  “Uh...” I tried to come up with the best excuse. “I was actually coming out for a breath of fresh air.” Kind of convincing. “Do you know what it's like to be in a theater?”

  The air around us felt thin, and he shrugged. It was like deja vu with the way we were so close to each other. The non-existent space seemed too much to handle. My stomach started to feel light and heated when I noticed the darkness of his eyes as they looked down at me. “What are you doing right now?”

  It was a random change of subject but whatever. Why was he even asking me that? “Nothing,” I shrugged, “what about you? Picking up your girlfriend?” The way I said the last word was like I hated it. It was too much to ask that he ignored the change in tone.

  “Wow, Maya,” Tristan's smirk deepened, “if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous.”

  I almost ripped into him just for saying that stupid sentence. “I’m not jealous of your non-sexual relationship with the blonde.”

  It didn't sound convincing, and I knew from his grin that he was thinking the same thing. “You two have to get along at some point. I don't even know why you guys are being so stubborn.”

  I wasn't being stubborn. It was her that was being stubborn. “The day me and your girlfriend will like each other, is the day when Hell freezes over.”

  Tristan's eyes narrowed and it looked like he was thinking. My facade at acting like none of this was at all affecting me was soon diminished when he decided to move. And by move, I mean he brought his thumb up and slid it across his bottom lip.

  I watched as his eyes flicked down and the thoughtful expression stayed on his face. Humor had disappeared from him, and I was about to ask him about it when he nodded, cutting off my thoughts. “I better go,” he hitched a thumb over his shoulder, “boyfriend things to do.”

  My mood changed instantly, and I resisted from rolling my eyes. “Of course.”

  “By the way,” Tristan was taking slow steps backward. I noticed two of his fingers were pointed towards me. “He missed a spot.”

  “What?” Confused and completely lost, I followed the direction of his fingers and spotted something very disgusting on my jeans. Oh my God, I'm going to vomit. “How do you know that's not just a stain?” It was the best possible excuse that popped into my head, but not even I would ruin my jeans with a white... well, anything.

  It was obvious that Tristan wasn't convinced and the look I received confirmed that. “Maya, I'm a male. I know a stain when I see one, and that is certainly not one from a yogurt.”

  There was no point in hiding it now. “I'm going to fucking kill him, I swear.” I frowned down at the newly made stain and almost gagged at the memories. “Idiot.”

  Every time I looked down at the stain, I felt a new hatred for the culprit play in my head. Did he really have to be so clumsy? He couldn't just... ugh. I shook my head. Maybe I could go back to my dorm without being seen.

  When I brought my eyes back to Tristan, he was still standing there, staring at the stain. But it was as if he was glaring at it, like it shouldn't be there. It was also starting to feel awkward because it was right on the inside of my thigh.

  “Looks like I'm going home to change.” I finally stated, making this my time to leave.

  Tristan looked at my jeans for a few more seconds before he moved his eyes up and nodded. “Yeah, I'll see you later, M.”

  I watched him head back to the theater, probably to wait for Tori to come out and be all PG-13 with him. I couldn't help but wonder what was running through his head when he saw the stain. Judging by his face, I thought he was going to make me take them off right here, just so he could burn them. Actually, that's what I wanted to do right now.

  If this was another life, I probably would've avoided this whole thing altogether. Actually, I might have been the one that would be picked up by Tristan, not Tori.

  Turning, I groaned in my head. “Why couldn't I just be a normal person?” I started speaking as I walked. “I had to be a demon. I couldn't be Superwoman, or Catwoman but a demon was apparently free on the list. Worst job ever.”

  Three – Misinterpreted Distraction

  “I love your demon side!” Melinda exclaimed. “Okay, okay, let me get the gist of this. You fucked Ryan Smith in the bathroom today? Oh my God and what makes this better is that Tristan heard everything!” She hunched over and laughed uncontrollably.

  At least someone is entertained by this.

  “Could you take this seriously, please?” I said, sitting down with a bowl of popcorn.

  “What's to be serious about? You unleashed your demon on Ryan and then the demon wanted Tristan right after.” She wagged her brows seductively.

  “You make it sound like I'm some kind of sex goddess,” I mumbled, shoveling a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

  We were hanging out on the couches in my dorm room. The living room was small, but big enough to fit two couches opposite each other, a nice coffee table in the middle, a medium-sized TV sitting in the corner, and a lamp. The kitchen however, wasn't the greatest. The smallish space was enough for both Jamie and I to fit in, but if you add another person, you're asking for a tight squeeze. Jamie's bedroom was next to the bathroom which took up the left side of the dorm, while my bedroom took up the front side. It wasn't perfect, especially during the winter. The only thing carpeted was the living room. I wouldn't change anything though, as annoying as hard-floors were, they were easier to clean.

  And this was home.

  “Uh, Maya, if you haven't noticed, you practically are a sex goddess. You have a body to kill for, a personality that kind of needs a bit of work—”

  “I find that offensive.”

  She ignored me and leaned forward. “And you also have a demon inside you that likes when a man is near, his arms securing themselves around you while he trails hot and sexual kisses down your neck,” her voiced lowered down to a rough whisper, her arms demonstrating the next part, “then he'll part your thighs and place his key right into your ignition.”

  I forgot how to chew and the lump of popcorn that was starting to move down my throat was uncomfortable. “Wow, Mel, for a second there I was almost horny.”

  “Really?” she grinned.

  “Of course not, what do you think I am, a car?”

  I saw her eyes roll and she shrugged, leaning back. “If you like the r
ide or die sort of thing.”

  I stopped chewing on the popcorn altogether, and suddenly I lost interest in the edible object. “You're an idiot,” I said, getting off the couch and walking to my room.

  “You love me really,” she called out.

  “That's debatable.”

  ****

  The arena wasn't exactly some extravagant thing. The first time I went to one of Tristan's fights, I had it my head that we were going to this huge stadium, and I'd be sitting in a seat. At that time, I didn't know what the hell Mixed Martial Arts was or what was involved in it. I didn't even know it was what MMA stood for until Melinda told me. I was so in the dark, or obviously living under a rock.

  The arena was about the size of a large hall. That's about all you could explain about it too. There was nothing special about it, or different—except for the fact that Tristan and the others fought here.

  I parked my black 2007 Honda Civic beside the building. My car wasn't exactly different from most of the cars here. It almost fit in. But according to Noah, Tristan's best friend and flat mate, it was nothing compared to his Audi R8—his baby. I could never understand how parent's trusted their kids so much to drive Audi’s. Did they not worry about the car being totaled? I guess it doesn't matter when you have all the money you could ask for.

  Tristan's metallic silver SUV was in my vision when I maneuvered the rear-view mirror to check my make up. The SUV was Tristan's baby as well—yet another expensive car that I never understood.

  Men and their cars.

  The familiar low rumble that came from my right distracted me from checking my make-up and I couldn't help but grin.

  “Noah's here,” Melinda said, a flirtatious smile appearing on her face as she fluffed out her light brown hair.

  “Yes, he is.” I leaned back against my seat and watched as the white sports car parked next to us. The tinted windows rolled down and Noah's grin was as wide as it always was when he parked next to me.

  Noah was your typical good looking Casanova. He liked to be the one that teased a girl until she needed the release, or until she begged for it. He and Tristan lived off campus in an apartment, which really could pass off as a bachelor pad with the way they treated it. I'd been there a few times when it came to parties, and well, I had to admit, it wouldn't be that bad to live with Tristan and Noah. It'd pretty much be like living with the models of Calvin Klein, and who would have a problem with that? Not me.