How It's Said

Chapter Seven - Eric's POV

Chapter Seven

Eric’s POV

Tucking my ear buds in my ears, I crank the volume up until Theory of a Deadman’s, Bad Girlfriend, is screaming in my ears. I bob my head, relaxing back onto my bed as I light up. I take in the first breath of my cigarette, savoring the musky flavor. I hold the smoke in my lungs for a minute before releasing the drug into the atmosphere.

The effects of the smoke start to fill my head, the small high I’m getting off of the cigarette pleasurable.

Anna. I smile, my thoughts turning dirty just from thinking her name. Everything about her screams sex to me. Her breasts and hips to her eyes and hair. God, I want her. That’s the only reason I made the deal with her. After my party two weeks ago, I’ve wanted to have her. I’ve wanted to kiss her and taste her.

I growl, my frustration and arousal growing. I angrily stuff the cigarette into my mouth and suck on it. I let out a puff and throw the cigarette down into the ashtray sitting by my bed.

I need something stronger.

Rolling off the bed, I cross my messy room to my dress. I pull open the bottom drawer, moving old shirts out of the way. I feel a rush come over me as I lay my eyes on my bag of weed.

Perfect.

**

Laying on my back on the bed, my mind is a haze of misconstrued thoughts. My bare chest glistens with sweat. My hand hanging over the edge of the bed, I flick the roll between my fingers, tapping the ash onto the floor.

I groan, my thoughts turning lustful as another wave of the high hits me. I need sex, I think, as I brush my hand over my hard dick. I need Anna.

Why can’t I get her out of my head? I groan, rubbing my hands over my face. The reason I wanted to do the six months was to either have my fill of her and get over her, or spend time with her and discover I really don’t want her.

Neither has happened yet.

Pressing my fingers to my mouth I take another drag. I hold the smoke in my lungs, waiting and waiting before I release my breath.

I need her.

I need Anna.

I’ve tried to get her out of my head for weeks. I’ve tried kissing her and touching her. I’ve tried putting my mark on her neck and nothing has worked. I want to have her, not just to fulfill my overwhelming lust for her, but to assert a claim on her. I don’t want anyone- anyone -to think she’s available.

Whether she likes it or not, Annabelle Wright is mine.

I scoot up on the bed, shifting until I’m sitting upright and now longer lying down. There’s no way a woman like Anna wouldn’t take offense to that statement. She would scream obscenities at me for daring to lay a claim on her.

I close my eyes, my mind summoning images of Anna. My new favorite comes to the front. I see her in the dress she wore tonight. The tight black dress that hugged her curves and emphasized her breasts. The dress caressed every curve and made me so hard the moment I saw her in it.

She is so sexy.

Lifting the smoke up to my lips, I take another drag. I smile around the roll as I inhale. I know I can get Anna, I just have to figure out how.

**

I blink my eyes a few times, trying to remove the hard, crusts from the corners. I wipe at my eyes to remove them, then use my hands to shade my drug-sensitive eyes from the light. The first beam of morning light streaming through my parts curtains makes me groan, a headache blooming in the center of my forehead.