WARNING: The following chapter contains sexual content (nothing graphic/physical; think: phone sex).


2-The King of Horniness

Marissa ran into the classroom, huffing and puffing, barely managing to keep her skirt from flying up. She had gotten lost. How the heck was she supposed to know that all the even-numbered classrooms were on one side of the school and all the odd-numbered classrooms on the other?

It was so damn confusing.

As her eyes scanned the classroom, she noted that it was just an enormous room, five times the size of a normal classroom, with a simple platform to act as a stage. The teacher's desk was put off into a corner, and students were set up in a circle of chairs in the middle of the room. Items were cast off to the side of the large room. As everyone's heads turned to Marissa, a short, slim, red-haired (teacher, Marissa was assuming), approached her in a swirl of a peasant dress, clanking of wooden jewellery, and a toss of fire-red curls. She looked young and friendly with bright teal-coloured eyes that were glittering with mirth even as she scolded Marissa.

"I'm assuming you're Marissa Vandertrooy." at the blonde girl's surprised nod, the teacher flashed a grin. "I already took attendance. I'm Ms. O' Donnelly, and I'm strict on punctuality. I give detentions from fifteen minutes to limitless hours. I'd appreciate your being on time for the next classes you'll be attending, Marissa."

Marissa bobbed her head silently. As she dropped her things into a pile, Ms. O' Donnelly spoke up.

"You can take the spare chair, and squeeze in between Ezra and Kristen." she gestured at an empty plastic chair, then at a ridiculously good-looking boy whose long, leanly muscled body was lounging casually in another plastic chair, and a frowning, skinny girl who had been staring adoringly at said-boy.

With as much dignity as she could muster up, Marissa dragged the empty chair over between them, and plopped down beside the two students.

"Alright class," Ms. O' Donnelly spoke up. "This is grade twelve drama. There won't be any babying or little games anymore..."

"Get lost, Vandertramp?" Marissa barely heard the deep murmur of Ezra's low, husky voice.

She chose to ignore him with a clenching of teeth.

She heard him shift, and the warm brush of his bare arm against hers made her hiss in air sharply through her teeth, stiffening. She tried to shift away discreetly.

"It won't do for a good girl like you to be late." he continued in his soft tone. "Want me to show you around? Don't you want to be a good girl?"

The way he said 'good girl' didn't make it sound so good. Marissa wanted to slap him. Instead, she just tightened her hands into fists and barely muttered a "shut up". She thought she heard, what sounded suspiciously like a choked back chuckle.

"...so we'll focus more on actual plays. Shakespeare, Shaw, and even modern-day playwrights. We'll start with scenes, and even have a final presentation of a whole play. We might even be able to perform it in front of the whole school." Ms. O' Donnelly enthused.

A student rose her hand. "Don't we have a drama club for school performances?"

"Yes, we do, Samantha, but wouldn't it be nice to perform with fellow grade twelves? Grade twelve drama classes are few. There are only two including this class. Why not perform as a whole?" Ms. O' Donnelly asked patiently.

"But I didn't sign up to perform." Smartass Samantha complained.

"Of course," the teacher smiled indulgently. "It was just a suggestion, dear."

The chubby girl nodded with satisfaction.

"Anywho," Ms. O' Donnelly continued, unfazed, "we'll be starting with emotions instead of words. However, I'd like everyone to know that we'll still be reading plays. Our first study will be on 'Phantom of the Opera'." she ignored Samantha's hand. "I know it's not a scripted story." Samantha lowered her hand. "But since I don't want you to focus on the words, but on the characters' emotions, I chose this book." Samantha rose her hand again. "And yes, it is more of a musical/opera," Samantha lowered her hand again, "but it's a very passionate story. The sentiments and feelings are obvious and in-your-face. I want you all to read it." Samantha raised her hand yet again. "Even if you have already read it. Read it again." Down it went again.

Ms. O' Donnelly strode up to her desk, where piles of books were, to assign them to each student in her class.


Next, and last class, was Independent Studies. As Marissa stepped out of the drama classroom, a thick copy of 'Phantom of the Opera' in her bag, a casual arm slid around her waist.

Startled, she stumbled, before the arm tightened, helping her catch her balance.

"You alright?" a dusky voice asked in quiet amusement, words whispering across her neck.

Marissa stiffened.

"Don't touch me, MacGregor." she hissed, trying to slip out of his hold. It tightened, bringing her right up beside the tenacious boy.

"It's a free country, isn't it?" It was a dismissal of her request (order).

"It is, but it's also a place where no one has to suffer from sexual harassment either." Marissa countered.

"Sexual harassment." Ezra snorted, grey eyes barely flickering to her. "I don't need to resort to sexual harassment to get what I want, Blondie."

"Excuse me, but your arm, over here, " Marissa nudged at it with her wrist, "is unwanted. I told you to put it away. You ignored me. This is now sexual harassment, bastard."

"Did I say I wanted to fuck you, Vandertramp?" his tone was pleasant and just the slightest bit amused. "I think I'd remember if I did. And what your reaction would've been." Marissa made a sound of disgust at the back of her throat, as his voice lowered suggestively.

"I wouldn't have jumped you to have hot animal sex with, if that's what you're implying." her voice was tense. The image made Ezra slip his fingers under her shirt, letting his thumb trace the soft smooth skin, just above the waistline of her skirt.

The feeling of the rough callouses sliding across the sensitive skin of her abdomen made Marissa jerk away. Ezra had not been prepared for that. Her eyes flashed at him dangerously.

"Don't touch me MacGregor. I mean it."

"Or what, Barbie?" his calm voice held the barest hint of a challenge. "Are you afraid I'm going to leave you wanting more? Princess, I satisfy. No need to worry about feeling restless after I'm through with you."

Marissa's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? I don't give a shit whether you're good in bed or not. I'm just telling you not to touch me, nor make anymore suggestive comments directed towards me. I'm not one of your sex toys nor am I your whore. Just respect my personal space. That's all I'm asking for." she replied with quiet dignity, though, she looked ready to throw a fist at his face.

"Alright." he smirked, after a moment. "I'll respect your personal space." He started walking away, leaving Marissa behind in confusion.

"Huh?"


Marissa loved old-fashioned libraries. Their towering wooden bookshelves, the thick lush carpeting, the snugly hidden oak tables, cushioned window seats, large glass-paned windows, the musty smell of old books...all of it. She adored all of it. And the library in St. Jude's had it all.

Oh, merciful heavens, she must be in heaven.

She settled down into a chair at a table, happily taking out her copy of 'Phantom of the Opera'. Humming slightly, she opened it up to the first page, eyes taking in the words. The meaning.

Her eyes grew round, fingers tightening around the book, as something cool and smooth traced the inside of her shin. With a shocked squeak, she shoved her chair away from the table. Across from her, sat a deceptively beautiful boy, coffee-black waves tumbling down to curl at the nape of his neck and over his forehead, into glittering stormy eyes.

"MacGregor." she snarled.

"Barbie."

Marissa narrowed her eyes at the nickname, but decided to let it go.

"You said you wouldn't touch me. That you'd respect my personal space." she accused.

"Princess, you never specified whether it was skin-on-skin contact you didn't want, or something else. I assumed you didn't like my experimental little touch in the hallway, so all I did was give you a tiny footsie. Unless you want me to take my shoe and sock off next time...I want to explore that pretty leg of yours..." he smiled smugly, voice trailing off. Marissa gaped. "In regards to your personal space, Princess, I'm afraid you're mistaken. I respect it very much. I like to admire it too...maybe it borders on obsession." He let his eyes drag over her slim figure, lingering on the soft curves and lines that made up her form. He did not have to fake the desire. But as he watched how uncomfortably indignant his blonde Barbie was getting, his grey eyes lit up with humour.

"You're sick." she snapped.

"With you." he mocked.

Marissa stood up abruptly, scowling, as she gathered up her items and stormed off.

Ezra blinked, as he watched the willowy blonde sashay away. He couldn't help the soft chuckle that rumbled in his throat.

That girl was just plain fascinating.


Marissa found a window seat cushioned with cold, red leather. They felt nice against her bare legs. Settling in beside the window, Marissa let her bag and textbooks drop onto the floor. Opening up the novel again, she began to read.

Ezra found her like that, sitting, with her back against against one wall, and her legs propped up, toes against the other. She was caught up in a world of sopranos, altos, tenors, baritones, and basses. Dancers and singers. Christine. Raoul. And the man behind the mask. The phantom. It was a good story. Ezra had read it before. Slightly reluctant to disrupt her when she was in such a rapture, but knowing he had to get his entertainment somehow, Ezra walked quietly up to Marissa. He admired the delicate curve of her throat as she shifted, letting her head fall back against the wall, raising the book up to her face; the halo her hair made when caught in sunlight; and the soft curve of her bottom the short skirt hinted at, having risen up higher than it should have. Not that he was complaining...

When Ezra got close enough that his toes touched the edge of her textbooks, he kicked them to the side, and lifting his hand to the edge of the wall, leaned in close to her, using his other hand to brace himself against the window.

Marissa looked up at him in stunned silence. Then her eyes narrowed dangerously as she tried to lean away from him as far away as possible, wanting to go through the wall, just to avoid being so close to him. No such luck. And he leaned in even closer, barely an inch away from her.

"What the hell do you want?" she hissed vehemently. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her hands tightly into anxious fists, in her lap.

Ezra looked thoughtful for a moment. "What do I want?" he drew the words out into a long raspy drawl. He bent down his head until his lips were millimetres away from her earlobe. They were unpierced, smooth, and sweet. Untouched like a child's. He wanted to bite down and suck on it, but fought back the urge.

"At the moment, I want to fuck you senseless." he breathed huskily into her ear. He noted the sharp tensing in her neck and shoulders, the erratic throbbing of the delicate pulse on her neck, the quicker heaving of her chest. Sharp, quiet gasps shallowed their way out between her full lips.

It had been the truth and it instigated such a strong response. Ezra decided to continue.

"I want to hear you scream my name over and over again with that pretty little voice of yours. I want to bite you and mark you everywhere to show that you belong only to me. I want to kiss your cunt and torture you into ecstasy when I taste how sweet and hot you are. I want to make you moan, gasp, groan, and scream until you can't take it anymore. I want you, Vandertramp." his voice was a rough, breathless whisper. "I want to make you all mine."

All teenagers have hormones, no matter how innocent, and he wanted to use that fact and exploit it to his own advantage. He inhaled the sweet smell of vanilla. He wanted to just lap her up.

He watched her gulp and take in a shuddery breath. He licked his lips. He really did want to taste her.

Turning to look him square in the eye, Marissa opened her mouth and whispered out shakily, "Fuck you."

"No," Ezra leaned in closer, letting his nose brush intimately with hers. She jerked back, banging her head against the window. She winced a bit, yet still pressed herself into it harder, obviously not wanting to be as close to him as they were. "I said I wanted to fuck you."

"Like hell you will, MacGregor." her voice trembled only the slightest bit.

He tilted his head to the side and let his lips trail down her jawline as he spoke. He felt the muscle tense as she clenched it and turned away. He did not let it discourage him, though, and continued the softest of touches and tiniest of kisses.

"I'm an expert at turning good girls into bad ones." he murmured against the smooth paleness of her cheek. An urge to taste that smooth skin made itself known in his mind. He parted his lips, that were still pressed against her cheek, and let out a slow hot breath, before letting just the tip of his tongue touch her face. He heard the starting of a gasping whimper, but then, she ducked her head away with a snap that Ezra swore she must have gotten whiplash.

Marissa glowered at him darkly from underneath a veil of blonde hair, furiously swiping at her flushed cheek with the back of her hand. She looked disgusted. Her pulse was still beating rapidly at her neck, but she looked more angry than anything else at this point.

"How lucky for you to have such a feat." her voice was deeper and huskier, but a quiet sarcasm was there in her firm tone. "Unfortunately, this good girl doesn't want to turn so bad, nor does she want you. Go mess with some other girl's head before fucking her, MacGregor. I'm not interested." she shoved him away, before getting up and gathering her bag and books. As she started to walk away, she stopped and spoke without turning around.

"And if you ever touch me again in such an inappropriate or suggestive manner, I'll kick your ass." It was a furiously quiet oath that brought a smirk on Ezra's face. "Stay away from me." And with that, she couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"How can I, when all you do is resist me?" he murmured, licking his lips. He wondered if the taste of her skin was still on his lips. He gently sucked on his lower one before releasing it from between his teeth.

"I really am sick." he muttered. Not that it really bothered him.


Marissa was angry, humiliated, frightened, but mostly angry.

He wanted to fuck her?

Let him go ahead and try! She'd set his man-parts (the curse...men's penises were much worse than woman's periods...) on fire before ever letting that happen!

"Sick bastard." she snarled. Her first day of school and he'd ruined it by going and being a creepy horn-dog.

As she slammed into the bungalow, she yelled out an "I'm home!" out of habit. She realized her mother wasn't there, and her shoulders slackened with fatigue.

"I need sleep." she groaned and her stomach replied. "Maybe food first." she laughed self-mockingly.

As Marissa entered the kitchen, a note written on pink, flowery stationary, that could only belong to her mother, caught her eye. It was attached to the fridge.

Order pizza. I'm working till 6:00 tonight.

Then I'm off, with Josef!

Love,

Mommy

P.S. I hope you had a memorable first day at St. Jude's (it's your senior year!)

"Oh, it was memorable, alright." she muttered, throwing the note into the trash can, as she continued to hunt, rather fruitlessly, for food.


Ezra had never met anyone like her before. Anyone so...resistant...and intriguingly addicting. She'd become an obsession and he knew it.

He swerved quickly to the left, his black Ferrari barely making the turn. He sighed heavily, and stepped on the accelerator with a firm foot.

He watched the needle go up to 80 km/h. It was a 60 km/h zone.

Driving, and driving fast, were two different things.

Ezra drove fast for the thrill of the ride. He'd go after Marissa Vandertrooy for the very same reason.

Senior year was going to be one interesting ride.


READ IF EZRA DID NOT MAKE SENSE: Well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I admit...Ezra is horny. Cringes. Sorry, if you were disturbed or confused by that. It may seem unrealistic, but considering Ezra's character, he actually would say something like that to a girl (he finds attractive) on her first day of school. Funnily enough, he wouldn't go so far with someone he was pretty good friends with (read: Veneta) or even with a girl he respected. He doesn't know Marissa, but he sees that she's hot, and he knows he wants to sleep with her. He doesn't respect her or even care much for her (and most certainly not what she thinks), but he's horny, heterosexual, and he loves challenges. Thus, the reason for, and the outcome was, a very intimate phone-sex parody. Except, I suppose not many would find it very funny. Huh.

Masquerade hide your face -Thank you for reviewing a second time around! I really appreciate it. And are you talking about the "by God...blahblahblah"-comment?

happy. endings -Thank you so much for the second review! I hope you enjoyed the 3rd chapter!

ownpersonalhell -You're too sweet! Thanks for reviewing, again. I hope you liked chapter 3, too.

notwithouyou -Heh. More like a bastard, but we'll see how the man-whore turns out. Loved your review (I like long chapters, too! Well, writing them and reading them...funnily enough). Thank you for the awesome words of encouragement!

jacksy -Thanks for the review!

darkgurl92 -Thank you, and I'm glad you think so!

koerle -You've got a way with words to flatter like crazy! Thanks for the review!

blondiexoxo -Thanks for leaving your review!

Rachetto -Thank you!

shellbell10 -Agreed. 100 percent. I've actually got guyfriends who talk about how horny they are. Charming. Really. But thank you so much for your review! I hope you liked chapter 3!

Time. and. Time. again -Wow. You just made me blush. Honestly, your review was soo sweet! Thank you so much! (By the way, I got Ezra from the Bible, and I got Veneta from Chicken Soup for the Soul. I had to look around. Trust me...-)

pure. 3xt45y. wulf -Spencer is an awesome name (I actually got it from watching 'The Hills'...). Thanks for your review!

And now you can call me lame if you wish, but I really did appreciate all the awesome, amazing, sweet reviews! Thank you! Chapter 4 is up next week (I think we see a pattern, no?)

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