How He Tortures Me

"Lost?" he asked me as I came around the corner and stopped dead when I noticed him standing there, his broad build and his country fed bulk solidly filling up the whole of the space in front of me while he stood imposingly tall, head and shoulders above me.

Fuck.

I'd been in this situation with him too many times not to be instantly terrified at being this close to him, at having him loom over me like this. I knew his game plan, knew the way that he operated. And I knew that at this point in the year the library was empty enough that he could find all sorts of fun and unique ways to **** me.

Blake had never really been one for physical ****, I guess our ages and everything had kind of put that on the back burner for him, but he did have a lot of fun making sure that I was put into unfortunate situations. He would make it so that I was caught out, exposed and **** as everyone saw and everyone judged me. He would let their laughter feed him while it dragged me down into the depths and made me feel so small and so ragged and so raw, like an exposed nerve.

So what did he have planned for today? How was Blake going to push my buttons?

"I... um..." he said, almost taking his time and trying to find the right thing to say, not rushing into it, "I think I'm a little lost too."

And then he did something that I'd never seen before. Blake. Blake Hyde. Blake the Bully. He looked sheepish and out of place. He looked ****, and I didn't quite know how to react to that.

I found myself taking a step back, almost instinctively, and it was only when I saw that his eyes went a little bit wider that kept me from turning tail and running. Was Blake Hyde being **** with me?

"I mean there are signs for the bathrooms," I said, turning around and looking for one, "Not around here but I'm sure if we went around the corner-"

That was all I managed to get out before I turned back around to face him and found that Blake had taken a step forward, closing the distance between us. He was so close to me that I could practically feel his breath on me again, and even though this time he was keeping his hands to himself that didn't make it any easier to forget that he'd had his hands on me earlier.

The trust fall. The sensation of him touching my body. The feel of him holding me close, my whole self dependent on him for one instant before he set me to rights.

"We could change here," he said, grinning conspiratorially a little, "I think we've got more than enough privacy."

Blake reached for the bottom of his shirt and tugged, pulling it up a little as he exposed the flat hardness of his abs. I saw the lines there, the rigid definition of his muscularity exposed as he stopped just a few inches up, just enough to show me how cut he was.

It was clearly a move, clearly him making a move. I had to wonder what his plan was here and what his intention was and when I looked into his eyes, my own eyes wide with confusion as he chuckled and let his shirt fall back down.

"Or maybe not," he said.

I took the chance and I took a step back but I misjudged, everything off kilter as I backed up against a bookshelf putting him in the perfect position to step forward and close me closer against it. My hands clutched at the school shirt I'd been given, pulling it up to my chest protectively as his gaze made it perfectly clear what his plan had been here and what it was that he was thinking about me.

Right now Blake was looking at me in a way that I recognized. He was looking at me like I was a woman, which of course made perfect sense because that was exactly what he thought of me. And when Blake set his sights on a girl, well the reputation he'd developed over the years that I went to school with him made it perfectly clear what his plan was.

I swallowed. Hard. Like a deer caught in the headlights I looked up at him as he grinned a grin that I'd never seen him set on me.

"God you're cute," he said to me, "Too fucking cute to believe."

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