Forbidden Love

I didn't want to hit that damn party. The whole setup, thumping music, sweaty strangers grinding like animals, made my skin crawl, screaming at me to stay home, bolt the door, let the world spin without me. But Lisa wouldn't let it go. Night before, she banged on my door, fist hammering like she owned the place, pink hair a wild mess, that razor grin of hers glinting under the porch light.

"Tim, you're coming," she said, leaning into the frame, voice low, teasing, all edges. "Been moping too long. One night out won't kill you, might even shake you loose."

I slumped against the wall, rubbed my neck, stubble scraping, "Not feeling it, Lisa. Parties blow."

She stepped in, too close, cherry gum snapping, her breath sweet and sharp. "That's why you need this. You're a goddamn zombie lately. I'm hauling you out, deal with it." Hair flicked back, smirk locked in, she'd already won, and I knew it.

I groaned, kicked the floor, scuffing my sneaker, "Fine. But I'm bailing early."

Her eyes lit up, clapped her hands like she'd swiped the last prize, "Eight tomorrow. Wear something hot, I'm serious."

Next night, her junker screeched up, horn blaring, rattling my windows. I trudged out, jeans, tight black shirt, bare minimum, but she catcalled anyway, leaning out the window. "Well, damn, Tim," she laughed as I climbed in, "You clean up alright." I smirked, couldn't help it, she had that pull, always did.

House was a beast, sprawling, lights blazing, cars crammed in sloppy rows. Bass hit hard before we parked, deep thuds shaking my ribs. Lisa snagged my wrist the second we stopped, nails biting, dragged me in. "Let's go, sexy," she purred, yanked me into the chaos.

It was a madhouse, bodies jammed tight, beer sloshing from cups, air thick with sweat and cheap Axe spray. I locked up, ready to bolt, but she tugged me to the living room, dance floor a mess of wriggling shadows. She spun, hips rolling, shouted over the noise, "Dance with me, Tim! Move!"

I stood there, hands stuffed in pockets, dumb as a post, but she grabbed my arms, slapped them on her hips. "Move, you stiff," she laughed, swayed into me, warm and too damn close. Music burrowed in, I gave up, matched her beat, hips grinding slow, then sharp. Sweat beaded my neck, eyes burned into us, hers the loudest, dark and glinting. She spun again, ass grazed my crotch, I sucked air, heat spiking up my back.

Girls swarmed, hands brushing my chest, lips pouting, "Wanna dance, cutie?" one slurred, fingers trailing my arm, sticky with booze. I shook her off, "Not tonight", short, curt, they giggled, melted away. Lisa clocked it, smirked like she'd caught me out.

"What's that about?" I asked, wiped my brow, sleeve damp.

"Just funny," she said, voice thick, husky, "You're picky, huh?" Her eyes roamed me, lingered low, I turned off, locked on the beat. Lisa was chaos, swiped shit from stores, crashed gigs uninvited, laughed it off like air. Kept my guard up with her, always, 'cause she'd flip on a dime.

After a stretch, she leaned in, breath hot on my ear, "VIP time, babe." Grabbed my hand, hauled me up a dim staircase. I tripped after, frowned, "VIP? How'd you score that?"

She flashed a grin, wicked sharp, "Nicked cash from my dad's stash. He's loaded, won't blink."

I stopped, feet planted, "You stole from him? Lisa,"

"Chill," she snapped, dragged me on, "It's fine. Live a little." Hit the VIP zone, low lights, plush couches, rich-kid vibes. She flopped onto one, patted beside her, I sank in, leather creaked, cool under my jeans. She waved a waiter over, ordered drinks, fruity and spiked, "To us," she clinked her glass to mine, grinning wide.

I sipped, burn hit fast, watched her chug hers like juice. Cheeks flushed, eyes went glassy, she slid closer, thigh mashed against mine. I shifted, couch shrank, "Having fun?" she whispered, hand dropped to my knee, slow but sure.

"Yeah," I said, voice snagged, she was too much drunk, wilder, hungrier, I felt the tide turning.

"Good," she purred, leaned in, fingers crept up my thigh, teasing, brushing my jeans' seam. Pulse jumped, jolt shot through, she grazed my crotch, pressed light, my body tensed, heat flaring unwanted. "Lisa," I started, she cut me off.

"Relax," she murmured, lips by my ear, hand slid higher, cupped me through the fabric. Dick twitched, traitor, and I grabbed her wrist, shoved it back, "Cut it out," I barked, sharper now.

She pouted, pulled off, "God, Tim, you're no fun." But her hand snaked back, bolder, squeezed, I stiffened, stood fast, brushed her off, "I'm out." Scanned for the stairs, head buzzing.

"No, stay," she cooed, grabbed my arm, "One more drink." Waiter popped up, slid a glass my way, dark, murky, not like before, "For you," he said, vanished.

I eyed it, gut twisted, "What's this?"

"Something special," Lisa grinned, leaned back, "Drink it. You'll love it."

I hesitated, she stared me down, daring. Fuck it, I swigged, bitter, sharp, torched my throat. Room tilted, lights streaked, blur, I stumbled, caught the couch arm, Lisa's laugh warped, echoing far.

"Tim?", voice faded, her hands guided me, door, bed, I couldn't track, knees buckled, sank into sheets, her fingers yanked my shirt, belt, heat surged, dizzy, then black.

Woke slow, head pounded, mouth ash-dry, I blinked, groggy, sheets twisted round me, bare skin on cotton, shit, naked, all gone. Panic slammed, turned my head, Lisa, sprawled bare beside me, hair a snarl, chest rising slow, my gut dropped, cold sweat prickled, What the fuck?