Now, I'm F*cked Violet. I have a dilemma going on right now. I want to be pissed off for being manhandled, but on the other hand, I'm also strangely turned on by it. I feel more pissed than turned on, though, because I have no idea what the hell Killer's problem is. He hasn't said much since he threw me on the bed-he's just been staring at me with that glare of his. Shivers run down my spine because of his dark and dangerous aura. His whole demeanor is a huge turn-on for me. You'd think I'd be smart enough to stay away from a man like him. Hell, from all men, period. But nope-I feel intrigued by him. "Are you going to actually say something, or are you just going to keep staring at me?" I try to get up from the bed, but he quickly steps toward me, pushing me back onto the mattress without even touching me. I hate the control he seems to have over me, and I hate it even more that I didn't notice it before now. "Devil shouldn't have thrown you out," he says with that low voice of his. "I tried to calm him down, but he only recently got some sense. He'll visit you soon." I raise an eyebrow. He didn't really barge in here just to tell me this, right? "I've been pissed off this week, and I don't know why." My eyebrow stays up. I really don't know what his point is. Killer stays quiet, like he expects me to have all the answers for him. "You really piss me off," he finally says when I just keep looking at him. "I'm a very lovely person when you get to know me," I joke back. He makes me feel uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. My feelings are a mess, and I start to realize I actually missed his stalkerish behavior. I missed his burning gaze and the feeling of his presence around me. Before I can try to get up again, he places his knee on the mattress between my legs and pushes forward, making me lean back until the back of my head hits the bed. Killer plants his big hand next to my head and hovers over me. He leans in, his mouth close to my ear. "I hate you, but I want you. Don't ask me why. Don't fight me." His warm breath tickles my ear, and I wait for my fight response. It doesn't come. Even when I feel his big hands sliding down my body-my neck, breasts, stomach, hips, and thighs all burn from his touch-I feel vulnerable, and I don't like it. I want to hate the feeling of him on top of me, but I feel safe. His breathing becomes harsher in my ear, and my own breathing starts to match his. Panic hits me like a truck when his hand slips into my panties. My breathing quickens and my eyes widen. I press my hands against his broad shoulder and struggle to push him off. 1/3 < Now, I'm F*cked "Get off me," I hiss, half-afraid he'll just continue what he started without any regard for my feelings. +15 Points) His weight immediately comes off me, and I calm slightly as I drown in his intense, dark eyes. When the hell did he manage to get so much control over me? Without a word, he lets himself fall to the side and pulls me into his chest. Shocked, I look at his torso, not really understanding what just happened. I've never really slept with a man before-other than that one time when Killer rudely came into my room a few days ago. Should I push him away or just go with the flow? It doesn't seem like I have a choice since the big arms. around me tighten and smother me closer to his warm body. My eyes start to feel heavy, and my brain slips into a fuzzy, exhausted haze. Within minutes, I fall asleep- trusting a man for the first time in my life. I wake up half-choked to death. Big arms are crushing me against a hard surface that seems to be a chest. I try to lift my head, but no luck-the arms are too tightly wrapped around my head and neck. "Dude. Air. Need air. DUDE." I use my elbows to wake up the caveman beneath me. Killer starts groaning and rolls over. "DUDE," I hiss, now crushed under his body instead of on top of him. "What." My god, his morning voice is to die for. Literally, since I'm currently suffocating. I see him narrowing his eyes against the light before tilting his head. The corners of his mouth lift just a little, but his face otherwise stays neutral. "Didn't know you were there," he says. He rolls over again and sits up, dragging me with him like a rag doll and wiping his face with one hand. "Are you trying to be funny right now?" I ask once I finally wriggle free from his iron grip and stumble out of bed. Killer just shrugs and yawns, which makes him look less frightening and-unfortunately-more adorable. f**k. Okay, those thoughts need to stop. Right now. "Well, it was, uh… great. You can, like, leave now." I start my usual search for clothes while trying to ignore the eye candy currently sitting in my bed. "Not going to happen." I stop, looking down at the floor, and give him my best glare. "And why is that?" I challenge him. "Because I want to know what the f**k is happening with me and you. Like I said, I hate you-or I should hate you. I hate everyone of the opposite s*x. But I can't seem to get you out of my head. Just play along until I figure out what the hell this is, and then we can both go our own ways." 2/3