Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

what you want?” He ground against me, fully aroused, and I gasped at the sudden, offensive contact. I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted my hands, hating this. I hated him for breaking me like this. “You like me, so I guess this is exactly what you want.”

The first tears dropped, and I turned my head to the side, avoiding his stare. “Not like this,” I whispered. “Never like this.” I bit into my lip. “Don’t degrade me like this. Please.”

I felt so cold. Cold and lonely.

He pulled away, and the grip that had been clasping my heart lessened its hold, but I couldn’t meet his stare. “Then what do you want?”

The words came out of my mouth before I could regret them.

“What do I want?” I lowered my head, closing my eyes. “Even a fragment of what you feel for that girl. A tiny bit of it. Your smile. But I’ll never get that, so what’s the use of being around you like this? What’s the use of my stupid feelings? This is toxic.”

A droplet fell on my cheek, and I opened my eyes to the sky as the first drops of rain cascaded down upon us. A strong shiver rocked my body as I brought my gaze to Blake. My heart contracted at the fiery look in his eyes, which devoured me in the prolonged silence.

“Yes. It’s toxic,” he finally said. “But it doesn’t have to be.”

My eyes widened. So many thoughts rushed through my mind at his words, his closeness, his eyes… We were getting soaked, but neither of us moved or acknowledged it. The earthy scent of the rain meeting the ground mixed with his smell appealingly.

“We aren’t supposed to be like this,” he said, cupping my cheek as his gaze fell to my lips. “I’m not supposed to feel this way.” He ran his thumb over my mouth, and a sigh escaped me. I should’ve moved away. Any moment now… “I hate it.”

“Then let me go,” I said weakly through my chattering teeth. The rain was a real downpour now, gluing our clothes to our bodies.

“I can’t. I want that, but…”

“Stop playing me. Over and over again. Enough.”

“I’m not playing you.”

“So what are you doing exactly?” I asked tiredly, squinting through the deluge. “All this time, you’ve been giving me mixed signals. So, what do you really want? Please be honest with me for once.”

It seemed like he was still trying to resist something, but then resignation settled into his features and he took the last step that separated us. I shivered, but it wasn’t because of the weather.

“I want to stop feeling guilty for being this way. I want to stop feeling. Period.”

I willed myself to breathe evenly. “And what are you feeling?”

His eyes darted all over my face. There was no hate. No anger. Just need. He cursed under his breath.

“I can’t get enough of you. I can’t stop thinking about you. And as much as I’m telling myself what we’re doing now is wrong…I’m not able to fight it.”

He grabbed the back of my head with his hand and crashed his lips against mine before his words could even settle in my mind, swallowing my gasp of surprise. His kiss was fierce, igniting everything in me, and for a few moments, I allowed myself to enjoy this, to forget the pain…to pretend this was okay. I pulled him closer to me. I was starving for the kiss that was ruining me as much as it breathed happiness into me.

His hands roamed up and down my back, seeking the next inch of me like he’d been dying to touch me, and the feel of it was incredible. His body radiated warmth that was stronger than any cold, sheathing me in its addictive cocoon. My heart went wild when he deepened our kiss and his tongue clashed against mine, and it went on and on until I lost my reason. Until I craved more, more, more.

He moved his hands under my thighs and picked me up with stunning ease. I grabbed his shoulders, and my legs wrapped around his waist reflexively as he pressed me against the shed.

“No, wait. Let me down. I’m too heavy.”

His heavy-lidded eyes were two dark pools of lust. “No, you’re not. You’re not heavy at all.”

He kissed me again, pressing himself against me, and the contact created a sweet sensation in my core. The scariest thing was that the way our bodies molded to each other felt natural, and I never wanted him to let go of me.

His hand traced my waist and ended on my flabby hip, grasping it. Panic spread through my chest, and I broke our kiss, too aware of the extra fat I had there.

“No…don’t touch me there.” I tugged at his hand to move it from that spot.

He leaned away to look at me. “What are you doing?”

“I just don’t want you to touch me there.”

His brows scrunched together. “Why not?”

I blushed, glancing away. “Because I…”

“Because what?” he pressed further.

Damn him. “Because I’m fat, and touching my flab doesn’t feel nice.”

He lowered me down, all lust in his eyes gone. “Are you for real?”

His tone killed the short-lived warmth in me, bringing back the pain. This was what I got for being so weak and allowing him the kiss he didn’t deserve.

I curled my lip. “As real as all those times you called me fat and Fats.”

He backed away and ran his hand through his hair. “That’s not…” He shook his head. “You’re not fat.”

Say what?

I gaped at him. “I’m not fat?”

“Yes. You’re not fat,” he repeated, getting angrier, but his anger couldn’t compare to what I felt in this moment. I was beside myself, all those months of insults coming back to me to mock me.

“Then why did you make all those fat jokes at my expense? Why did you insult me all those times, calling me fat and many other horrible things?! Why did you make me remember how much I hate