hard » m. phelps

XXVI|Michael

I slammed my hand against the door.

I was angry, I was frustrated, I was upset, I was confused, but most of all, I hated myself.

"Fuck," I groaned, sliding my hand against the wall.

How could I be so stupid! I nearly took advantage of her, seeing as she probably wasn't in her right state of mind.

I actually tried to have sex with her.

"She's the one who started it anyway," I mumbled.

I immediately banged my head against the poor door, trying to shake away bad thoughts that tried to tell me that it was originally Clare's fault.

It took no damn genius to figure out that Nyssa had told her what a boner is. She obviously was trying to tease me, and my conscience had tried to warn me, but I was too damn stubborn and sexually frustrated to let it bother me, and had hidden all preventive thoughts from my head.

These hot, sweet, sexy moments had made me think of only a few things. Her soft, slightly chapped lips. Her heavenly skin against mine. Her perfect curves craving for my touch.

I wanted her; I couldn't deny it, no matter how hard I tried. I knew that she had zero experience with this kimd of stuff, and almost, for a moment, I thought that she was going to let.

Alas, I was cut off from my dream as fast as it had started, and I was pretty damn sure that she realized what she had been doing, and came to her senses.

That was the moment that I had realized that I had screwed up so bad, even the Brazilian loss to the German back in the World Cup 2014 couldn't beat this.

She probably doesn't want to see my face again, and honestly, if I was in her place, I would hate me too.

I didn't feel like facing her just yet, so I tried to clear my mind and messy thoughts by taking a much needed ice-cold shower, despite the risk of cramping all my muscles, but what would my poor needs do?

I rinsed my hair, and tried to rid myself of the feeling of her hand in my hair and on my neck, or the sensation of her eying my body with the same fervor as I did to hers.

Out of all things that happened, this felt satisfying. For a moment, her looks had pushed me into believing that she wanted it as much as I did.

But I guess I was wrong.

Once I was done with rinsing my hair and scrubbing my skin raw to rid myself of the feeling of her hands all over me, I dried off, slipped my boxers back on, and ran to the living room, unable to face Clare.

I found some odd clothes in one corner on a small table, and I just slipped them on, before grabbing my phone, keys, and wallet, and heading out to my car.

I sat still for a few minutes, feeling the desperation sink in.

Usually my go-to guys were Conor and Ryan, but right now, I don't think I could handle seeing them.

First, I was already on a rough patch with them, breaking the rule bros before hoes (despite her far from being a hoe), and second, even if they did manage to look past that, they would be jumping at an opportunity to rub my failure in my face, seeing as any second now Clare would call me to break up with me.

Nathan was out of question, seeing as he was at my house, sleeping in the guest room beside her bedroom (we almost had sex with him in the house, whoops).

Nyssa was definitely off the list, seeing as Clare wouldn't really appreciate it if I was to sleep alone with a girl in the house, even if she knows that I only have (hungry) eyes for her.