He slams me against the door, his lips crashing to mine. His hands explore my body, and I wrap my right leg up around his left, inching my already too-short dress higher up my thigh.

His lips linger along my tear-streaked cheeks, grazing the lines of stained mascara. Making his way to my neck and then traveling to my ear, he nibbles my earlobe. My head falls back with a small knock on the wooden door as I bask in the feeling of his lips and hands.

“Make me forget,” I whisper.

“Oh, believe me, when I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your name,” he says, grabbing my ass, forcing my legs to wrap around his torso.

While I’m straddling him, he carries me across the room, his lips on mine, thrusting his tongue deeper into my mouth with every step. My arms are tight around his neck, keeping him close.

This feeling of safety is what I crave. It’s the reason I’m here right now.

As he throws me onto the bed, our eyes never leave one another. He yanks me to the edge and grabs my leg to carefully remove my shoes. His hands inch up my legs until his fingers are tucked around each side of my black thong. Sliding the strings of fabric down, he tosses the tiny piece of silk onto the floor before returning to push my dress up, exposing me to him. His breath hitches in his throat when he caresses me with his eyes.

He starts unzipping his dress slacks, and they disappear to the floor. After he shuffles to the nightstand, he’s on top of me, and all I care about is that, for the next five minutes, if I’m lucky, the pain will be gone.

“I’ve been waiting so long to have you,” he whispers, rushing to enter me hard. Once he’s in, he stills. “Oh…so worth the wait.”

I remain quiet, pushing memories out of my head.

When his hands reach my ass, pushing him deeper inside me, the pleasure increases, and all the shame disappears. He thrusts forcefully into me, whispering how good I feel.

He might not have as many moves as others, and he talks too much for my liking, but he’s definitely gifted in other departments.

He slams into me again, stretching me to my limits.

The ecstasy builds inside me, and my eyes roll back into my head. All I feel is his touch while he pumps into me.

As sweat starts slicking between us, I flip him over to his back, straddling his body, unable to wait for him. He’s going way too slow, and I’m craving my release. Isn’t this what it’s all about?

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he says.

He smirks as I slide him back inside me. I refrain from sticking a sock in his mouth because his talking distracts me from finding my relief.

He grabs my hips, trying to manipulate my movements to his rhythm, but I get ahold of his hands and bring them up to my breasts. I need to be in control.

Five minutes later, after finding my groove, my body shudders, and I sink down on top of him. The release calms my chaotic body for a second.

“Fuck, Sadie. You’re awesome.”

His face turns to kiss me, but I climb off his body, pushing my dress back down to cover myself.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, I begin placing my heels back on, but he grabs me from behind, pulling my back against his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers in my ear.

“Okay,” I agree without a fight, crawling back on the bed.

Although there’s nothing more to what happened just now, it’s better than being alone. I hate being alone. The silence haunts me, making me relive my mistakes.

As I am wrapped in his arms, I realize how strongly his breath smells of alcohol when it wafts up to my nose. Regardless of how I feel about him, a safety envelops me, and I drift off to sleep.

---

The next morning, the light wakes me up, streaming into the small room, and I find myself, alone, in a strange bed. Beginning to investigate my surroundings, I try to remember where I am and what I did last night. The dirty clothes overflowing in the hamper and the sports team paraphernalia on the wall tell me that I’m most likely in a frat house…again.

I tiptoe to get my shoes, hooking them in my hands. Slowly opening the door, I peer right and left down the hall. After spotting no one, I quietly tread down the stairs. The front door feels like a mile away, and I can’t get through it fast enough.

How many times will I do this walk of shame?

Just as my hand reaches the knob, I overhear talking in the next room, and I freeze.

“I wouldn’t brag, Soren. I had her last week.” A deep voice laughs, and my shoulders sink. “Actually, you might be the last brother to have her.”

The truth sears me in the chest.

“She’s a great lay though,” Jeff Soren says.

“I told you she was,” the other male agrees. “Ever since she earned the label of the college slut.”

“I know. It’s kind of sad though.” Jeff’s voice actually sounds concerned. “I wish—”

“Dude, don’t even think it. You can’t save girls like that. You just enjoy what they give you and move on,” the other voice replies back.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

A glimpse of myself emerges in the mirror in the foyer when I open my eyes. Mascara is stained in long lines down my face, and my honey-colored hair looks like a bird made its home there. My lips are swollen and red, and I can’t help but think I resemble a hooker on the corner, waiting for her next trick.

It shames me that I’ve turned myself from a normal college student to an absolute disgrace—not just to my family or to myself, but to his memory.

I quietly turn the doorknob, hoping Jeff and his buddy don’t hear me. The thought of having to face my mistake from last night sickens me.

I sneak out and walk across the street to my sorority house. I’m thankful to find that everyone is either still asleep or out. When I crash into my bed, I open my drawer and take out the picture that’s been untouched since last year.

Clutching the picture hard against my chest, fresh tears resurface, and my knees curl into my body. Sobs escape my mouth, knowing I’ve disappointed him. Instead of falling asleep, an urge to fight seeds itself inside me. He would hate what I’ve become.