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Bianaca

Iglanced from my slip of paper to the golden 232 etched into the doorframe. My room was on the second floor, only a few feet away from the communal bathrooms. According to my sheet, this was one of the only single rooms.

Lucky me.

Fumbling with my suitcase, I used the key Maria gave me to open up my new room. My new home.

Bright light blinded me from the opened windows.

It was small, though that was to be expected in a dorm room, with a single bed pushed against the far wall, a dresser, and a desk. Textbooks already adorned the bookshelf directly above my desk, the titles ranging from mythological studies to trigonometry.

With a heavy sigh, I tossed my suitcase onto my bed and surveyed the room with my hands on my hips. The room was…doable. It didn’t compare to my room back at home with its black and pink comforter and darkly painted walls. The cement blocks made it feel more like a prison than a room. The voice came from behind me, breaking through my reverie like the crack of a whip.

“What are you doing here?”

I spun, hands instinctively balling into fists.

A young man stood in the entryway to my room, staring at me with such an intense loathing my hackles began to rise. Backing away from the figure, I defiantly lifted my chin.

“This is my room.”

He took a step closer, and my breath caught. His body was toned and muscular, and his dark hair was styled away from his forehead. His eyes were just as dark as the rest of him, twin obsidian stones fixated on me with an almost incandescent fury. His face was covered in piercings—a bulb in his eyebrow, two more in his lips, a few in his ears. Somehow, it promoted him from hot to downright sexy.

“Your room?” the man’s gravelly voice demanded. He took another threatening step closer, and I automatically took a step back. My hair stood on end. Despite his otherworldly good looks, there was something dangerous in his eyes. A sort of haunted look that reminded me of a cornered dog. He was a lion that wasn’t just out for the hunt, but for the kill.

His fingers absently trailed over my desk as he continued to advance on me.

“Did you hear about the girl who used to have this room?” he asked conversationally. Before I could respond, he continued, “Her name was Josie. And did you know that she disappeared a few months ago?” Again, he didn’t wait for me to reply. “This room has been empty all this time…until now.”

He towered over me, his considerable bulk making me feel tiny and vulnerable. Still, I met his stare with glacial eyes. I wouldn’t let him intimidate me.

“And then you just arrive…steal her room. Steal her class schedule.” He grabbed a piece of my blond hair, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. His hot breath brushed across my face, eliciting delicate goosebumps. “And if I find out that you had something to do with her disappearance…I’m going to make you scream.”

My breath was ragged. Damn. The kinky bitch in me actually enjoyed his threats.

Refusing to cower, I took a step even closer to this stranger.

“It takes a lot to make me scream. You sure you’re up for the challenge?” I breathed. I could’ve sworn that his breath caught and his heart rate increased.

“So innocent…” His voice was a whisper. The aroma of leather and pine body wash assaulted my senses. It was a masculine scent, one I had the distinct feeling was uniquely his own.

His previous words flitted to me, and I snorted. I was anything and everything but innocent.

“I wonder how innocent you will look when I break you?” he mused, shifting even closer. “And I will break you. I will tear you apart until you are unrecognizable. Tears, cries, shouts…they’re all the same to me. By the time I’m done with you, I’m going to know exactly what makes you tick. What you like, dislike, despise. You see, little one, I have a motto.” He pressed his lips against my ear. “Guilty until proven innocent.”

My heart skyrocketed. His touch sent licks of fire racing down my spine. It was as if his soul and body called to me, called to the twisted, demented bitch I knew myself to be, and demanded my compliance. I was drawn to his darkness like a moth diving into a flame. I was going to get burnt, but damn if it wasn’t beautiful. Like called to like, after all, and his darkness was a mirror image of my own.

Coming to my senses, I shoved at his hard, muscular chest. He willingly allowed me to push him away, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

“You don’t scare me,” I said, proud when my voice remained steady. That wasn’t necessarily a lie. He didn’t scare me. Not in the normal sense. Beau always used to tease me for my need to rescue and care for strays. This man may not have been a stray, but he was broken. And the idiot within me wanted to fix him.

“No?” He raised an eyebrow, that sinfully delicious smile once again on his face. “I haven’t even begun yet, sweetheart. Trust me: you’ll know when I’m starting, and you’ll know when I’m done. Those lips…” His fingers brushed my parted lips, and ridiculously, my tongue wanted to sneak out and taste him.

What the hell was wrong with me?

He was threatening me, teasing me, playing me like a damn mouse, and my ovaries wanted to jump him. I blamed it on my lack of sex. The sooner I rectified that situation, the less horny I would be.