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2.97% Feral Obsession / Chapter 3: 3

Chapter 3: 3

3

EMILY'S POV.

I grabbed his hands and pulled them off, throwing them away from me, and turned to him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?" I asked, looking at him with surprise, but it felt like a drum hitting my head. I staggered, and he caught me again.

"What am I doing?" He asked, and I tried to pry my hands out of his, but he held on to my wrist firmly.

"You know what you're doing. How could you approach me for the sake of doing this? You're a jerk! A traitor!" I accused him, with my words slurring.

"A traitor?"

"I thought we were comrades!" I shouted in an uneven tone and swayed on my feet once more, but he caught me by the waist.

"Comrades? You're drunk. I'm only trying to get you to your room." He said, and in pretense of brushing my hair backwards, he brushed his palm over my breasts once more, and I pushed him away.

"I asked what you think you're doing!" I shouted, but my eyes couldn't even open properly anymore.

"I'm getting you to your room."

"All men are the same. You probably have a girlfriend somewhere, don't you? You connivingly cheat."

He pulled me to him once more, and I wanted to pull away but couldn't. It suddenly seemed like that move had triggered lots of things in me.

I was suddenly aware of the toughness of his body and the way my gentle hands laid on the strong muscles in his arms.

Why was I feeling that way? He smirked, and I wanted to run my lips over his. What was that feeling? Why was I feeling loose and ready to go to sleep with the bartender?

I tried desperately to pull away, as I couldn't understand myself, but he held me closer.

"Don't you think you want to share a room with me?" He asked in a low, husky voice, and panic mingled with desire in me. I wanted to thread my fingers in his hair, press my lips to his, and wrap my legs around him, but at the same time, I knew it was wrong. I was getting married in a few days to an Alpha.

Was I still getting married? I didn't think so.

But even though I wasn't getting married, I could never do such a thing as sleep with a random man.

"Let go of me." I said it angrily, but he didn't let go.

"In minutes, you'll be the one unable to let go of me." He said it softly, and I gasped.

"Did you put something in my drink?" I asked, and the smile on his face said it all, but his words were the opposite.

"Why would I? Are you suggesting I put something in the drinks of all my customers? I simply gave you what you wanted."

"You! You idiot! How could you spike my drink!?" I shouted, pushing against him, but he simply gave a little laugh.

"I didn't. Why would I spike your drink? Do I look like some horny idiot to you? You're the horny one here." He said that, and I almost scratched his face, trying to break free from him.

He tried to hold me to himself but was unsuccessful, and then we heard the harsh scraping of a chair, and he left me abruptly. I rubbed my wrists angrily, leaning against a wall, and just then, someone showed up. It was another man.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked like, if he wanted, he could drag the bartender and throw him outside the bar.

"What's the fuss all about?" He asked in a deep voice, and the bartender seemed to think his plans were ruined.

"I came to have a drink, but this man here... this man here tried to take advantage of me. He spiked my drink with something! Ask him. He was touching me inappropriatelyand refused to leave me. I…"

"Wow! How can you spew such lies comfortably? You were obviously forcing yourself on me just now." He lied, and my eyes widened.

"Ha! Why are you this despicable? You touched my chest and said all manner of nasty things!" I shouted, with my voice swaying a bit.

Already, everything seemed to split in two, and I wanted to wrap my arms around something, to kiss someone, and John's image kept replaying in my mind.

"She's drunk. She can't even open her eyes properly." The bartender said that, and I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist.

"Give me the keys." The deep voice said.

"You'll… You'll take her to her room? I can… I can do that. I'll…"

"The keys." He repeated it, and I heard a jangling sound. The next moment, I was swept off my feet.

"He… he touched me. He touched me and put something in my drink, so I'll sleep with him. Now I'm thinking of my fiancé again." I shouted dramatically, with my tone rising and crashing recklessly.

"Jerks like him; you have to punish them! You have to take them to court, and... wait, where are you taking me? A room?" I continued babbling and talking about different things.

The man didn't even reply. He inserted the keys into a door and carried me inside.

My feet found the floor, and he tried to leave, but I held on to his arm.

"Isn't it absurd? He just came out of nowhere and began to" I continued, drunkenly.

"Ma'am. You should forget about the bartender and have some rest. Is there anything you forgot downstairs?" He asked, but my hands found his chest, feeling his muscles beneath the slim fabric of his chest. He tried to take my hand off, and I looked into his eyes.

"Worst day ever. Why do I feel this way?" I asked, and he placed his hands around my shoulders, trying to push me away, but by then, all morality had been cleared from my head.

Whatever the bartender had spiked my drink with was working. I needed someone badly, and he was the right person. Him and no one else.

He opened his mouth to speak once more, but I placed a finger on his lips and, with my other hand, began to unbutton my shirt. His eyes widened, and he tried to leave. I dragged him back, stood on tiptoes, pressed my lips to his, and wrapped my legs around his waist with my arms around his neck, just like I had wanted to do with the bartender.

He tried to push me away, but I was intent on kissing him with all I had. All the pain of the day and the loss, I transferred to the kiss, and I kissed him like I didn't have anything else to do other than kiss a man.

He staggered backwards as he tried to support my weight. I looked into his eyes and saw my desire reflected in his. I had managed to arouse my desire in him, but he was still baffled. Of course, it was wrong to feel things for a woman you met minutes ago.

It was even more wrong to sleep with her.

"Did he really spike your drink? We can go down and report him to the station. It's not too late to go, and...

I flashed a beautiful smile at him, interrupting his words. He stared at me with an expression that seemed to suggest he had seen something he hadn't seen before. I kept the smile up, telling him he had no worries without words, and when I kissed him again—at first he was unresponsive—but eventually, he returned it slowly.

If I were to go crazy, then it'd rather be with the unknown stranger than with the bartender, who had thought he could outsmart and take advantage of me.

We found our way back to the bed, and clothes flew to the ground in different directions; his kisses were everywhere on my skin.

At that moment, I was willing to forget everything and everyone. I only wanted to focus on the man before me.

After all, we were complete strangers with nothing to do with each other.


Chapter 4: 4

4

EMILY'S POV.

I sat opposite John on the sofa in his house, with my heart beating wild. He stared at me with those intense, deep sea-blue eyes of his, and none of us talked.

Then a lady came down from the stairs, wearing a bikini top and pants. How could she come down with just that when the fiancée of the man she was having an affair with was sitting right there in front of her?

"What is all this, John? What have I ever done to you?" I finally asked as the lady made her way to him, sitting on his lap.

"I should also ask you that." He returned, and I furrowed my brows until someone sat next to me. I turned sharply and saw a man whose physique looked oddly like the man I slept with. "Didn't you sleep with him?" John accused me, and I got to my feet.

"I… wait. You have to listen." I turned to the man, who had come out of nowhere. He was smiling, and I felt disgusted and scared.

Then John came to stand next to me.

"So, how about we bury this and not make any noise?" He asked.

"No! Yesterday, I was... I was…!" I tried to spit out the words that I had been drugged, but my lips couldn't form the words. John looked at me and smirked.

The lady smirked, the stranger also smirked, and it seemed like the room was closing in on me—like the faces were too close and the walls were coming in, ready to swallow me.

"Wait!" I screamed, but it came out as a gasp as my eyes flew open.

A white ceiling...

I was still in bed.

I closed my eyes once more, and I turned my head. What kind of dream was that? Why would John accuse me of cheating? Thinking about it, it did seem like I had another dream about sleeping with a stranger, but it was a blurry dream.

Dreams... how they found a way to weave reality into them and scare people.

Wait, was I home? I had gone someplace strange after running from John's house. I had drunk alcohol, and... who took me home? Did I sleep there?

I opened my eyes tiredly, wondering if I had done anything silly. I had drank a lot and couldn't even remember things well. My memory of the past night was like broken glass. They just didn't fit.

I looked around and saw the neat interior of the room. Great, I was in a hotel. I turned, ready to go back to sleep, and almost screamed. The fear seemed to push me off the bed, and I landed on the cold floor.

My mouth flew to my mouth as I discovered I was naked.

A man… A man on my bed!

Gosh, jeez… wait, wait… Emily, you did not sleep with this man; you did not...

My eyes began to widen, and my jaw fell as everything began to piece together. The kind bartender, being harassed, my spiked drink, someone interfering, being taken to my room...

"Ah…" I whispered and shook my head. I didn't want to know what happened next. I didn't want to...

Even though I didn't want to, the memories came flooding my mind as clear as day.

Tangling, soft sounds, turning, heart beating, gasping...

I began to pick my things up, dashing into the restroom. There, I took a deep breath and began to wiggle into my clothes.

I had sex with a stranger. Emily, have sex with a complete stranger!

My fingers shook as my buttons proved difficult. They didn't cooperate. When I tried to pull on my baggy jeans, I actually fell to the floor and gasped in pain.

Then, there was my phone on the bed and his arm slightly on it.

I tiptoed to him and stuck out my hand, trying to take it without him knowing. Why hadn't the phone flown to the ground? How had it managed to stay on the bed?

I wrapped three fingers around it and looked at him.

Then the curtains shifted, and the morning rays played on his face. His eyeballs moved, and I froze.

Not because I was scared he'd open his eyes, but because I hadn't noticed how handsome he actually was. His eyebrows were light and brown. His lashes are long and dark. A tussle of messy brown hair on his head, scattered over his forehead, full heart-shaped lips, fair skin, a pointed nose, and a well-chiseled jaw.

His beauty struck me in the heart like a lightning bolt. Why would anyone be as handsome as that? If his eyes opened, what color would they be? I was curious, but I dared not wait.

After a few minutes of being mesmerized, I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. Too bad I never met him again. I took my phone gently and left the room.

The bar was filled with waiters, waitresses, and people around.

"The bartender was here last night. Where is he?" I asked the woman at the counter. He was the cause of everything.

"Trevor? For some reason, he quit this morning." She replied.

"Ha." I scoffed in anger, bit my lip, and took out my credit card.

"I booked a room and had a few drinks. There's a man in the room, too." I said, feeling ashamed to say it.

She looked at me with that kind of look that suggested she imagined what happened, and she politely took my card.

I blinked in humiliation.

"How many bottles did you have?"

"Just put five bottles on my tab."

"Five?" She asked, with large eyes, "I'm sorry." She apologized immediately, and the very moment she returned my card, I walked out hastily.

I had wandered far from home, so there was definitely no way I and the stranger were meeting anymore. Problems? Forget about it. That was if I ever recalled his pretty face, or if he recalled mine.

I hailed a cab and got in, calling out my lane and address.

I relaxed in the car, closing my eyes, but neither the memory of the steamy night nor the memory of the sharp beauty the stranger possessed left my mind.

Some people were just born to wreck people's minds with beauty.

As for John, I was wrecking our wedding ceremony.


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