Wicked Hunger

Wicked Hunger Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Not Over

Just the sight of her pink and black hair sends fire racing through my entire body. The chin length cut with the ends fraying out in a pixie-like style make her defined cheekbones stand out, the pink wisp matching her full lips in a way that makes them look even sweeter. Her smoky eyes watch me carefully, on guard. Every inch of her is beautiful, I realize for the first time, but it’s only a small, unimportant thought in the back of my mind, about to be swallowed up by the aching need to wrap my fingers around her neck.

For several excruciating minutes, neither of us moves or speaks. Ivy holds perfectly still, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She doesn’t move because she’s likely afraid of looking aggressive. I don’t believe for a minute that Van is right about her knowing something about us. This girl is simply smart, level-headed enough to realize that I am more dangerous than I look. Running only incites a predator’s drive to conquer. Even with her standing still, I am the first one to take a step.

My other foot follows, picking up speed as they go, and carrying me over to her before I can form a thought coherent enough to stop my body from taking control. Ivy’s eyes are big and bright when I finally pull myself to a halt less than two feet in front of her. She draws in a slow breath as her blue eyes sparkle with panic. Her bottom lip trembles so slightly I would never have noticed it if I weren’t staring at her so intently. I want to touch her rose petal pink lips, but whether to see them turn scarlet with blood or simply to feel their softness against my mouth, I don’t know. I just want…to touch her.

“Z-Zander,” Ivy says quietly, her lips barely able to form the single word.

I can’t respond. If I move a single muscle, my hunger will take control. She’ll be dead before she can even start to cry out for help.

She bites the corner of her lip, looks at the ground, and then back up at me. “I’m, um, sorry, if I, uh, did something to offend you earlier,” she manages to say.

Ivy bites her lip again, which does absolutely nothing to curb my desire to make her suffer, and waits for me to say something. All I can do is watch her canine dimple her flesh and beg it to keep going. My hand moves from my side, toward her. Ivy flinches at the movement, and I pull myself together enough to bring it back.

“I…should go,” Ivy says suddenly. She starts to turn, but my hand snaps out and grabs her arm before she can complete the movement. Her eyes fly to mine. I can see the tears forming. The glassy affect they cause makes her eyes melt into liquid sapphires.

We are frozen like this, with her about to cry and me holding her arm, when Samuel and a couple of the other guys walk around the building and see us. All three of them slow to a halt as they take in the scene.

“You okay, Zander?” Samuel asks. “Is she bothering you?” The three with him square their shoulders in my defense. Ivy only blinks in disbelief, dislodging a single tear.

“No,” I say, “we’re fine.”

“You sure?”

Samuel scrutinizes Ivy. Her average height, maybe five foot seven, is nothing compared to mine, and our weights are an even bigger discrepancy, but these guys know me. Thanks to my careful control, they only see me as a quiet, calm guy who never raises his voice or shows any kind of aggression off the field. They know, too, that I’ve had trouble with persistent girls before. None of them have ever asked why I don’t date, and no one has ever been brave enough or stupid enough to insinuate that I might be gay, but they are aware of the fact that status-hungry girls have no place in my life. They’ve run interference for me before, and they must all think this is just another one of those times.