Chapter 5 - Reversed angles

LUKAS' POV – 18 years ago

Scrolling through ads bored the hell out of me, but it was necessary. I could just stay at the hotel, yeah, I can afford it, but why waste money like that? Ugh, all because I forgot to apply for the dorms ... I'll blame Belinda, that woman fucked me up like no one else ever did.

I don't know what got into me, I got so wrapped up in that whole fucking like rabbits thing that I didn't see anything else. She was hot and willing, I thought, why not? How the hell could I know she was married to my high school mate?

Jason Leman and I have never been friends, but the look on his face when he caught me screwing his wife ... it took me three weeks in the woods to erase it from my memory.

There I realized, my whole life, I've been nothing but a hateful asshole. And what was the point? What did I ever gain from being a jerk?

At the end of the day, I've still got nothing. Nothing except a large fund my mom left for my college fees, a huge ego, and a bed I keep filling with whatever chick night after night. Is that life?

Well, I haven't been having any chicks in my bed since three weeks, to be honest. I took a break. I have never gone on this much without sex. Seriously. I'm probably gonna start daydreaming of vaginas or something.

It was a good choice, though. I voluntarily kept myself on short. Because the whole shenanigan with Belinda made me think. For once in my fucking life, I actually stopped to think.

What the hell am I doing? I'm 21 years old, and I've achieved nothing. Nothing. Unless you count the number of chicks I've screwed, of course.

If bedding as many girls as possible, getting into the most trouble you can, were a degree, I'd have graduated with all honors, and in advance. You could say I've devoted my life to sex, alcohol and parties. Is that the way to live?

I don't think my mom would say yes. I don't think Angela would say yes. Hell, I think my late best friend would spit me in the face if she knew what I've been doing with my life.

That's why I've decided to turn on a new lead. Be a new Lukas. The Lukas my mom and Angela would have wanted me to be.

In order to do that, I needed to cleanse my habits and start over, that's why I spent three weeks in the woods. It helped, you know. I came back home that I was a reborn man.1

I even decided to apply for college. It was awfully late, obvious, but they accepted me anyways, well, they accepted my dad's money, that's more like it. When I told him I was gonna go to college, the old man was so over the moon that he immediately started making calls, and in no time I was officially a freshman.

Sighing, I closed the nth tab. Nothing caught my eye, all the ads were for small apartments I'd have to share with two or three guys, it didn't enthrall me. I wasn't sure what was I looking for, something that would strike me at first sight, I guess.

It was after endless scrolling that I bumped into something pretty interesting. I squinted my eyes, not quite believing them, even took off my reading glasses, thinking maybe it was them to be deceiving me, yet no ... I read the correct name.

Tara Baker. I bit my lip as I spoke the name out loud, unable to retain myself. It's been three years since I last saw her. I was never able to enact my plan back then, she wound up with Jason, so I gave up, not interested in taking the scraps of some other guy, but now ...

It was hard to skip the idea, for how insane that was, and I've never been really good at holding back ... I'll call it closure. Yeah, closure. I ... need to close the circle, end the spiral of weirdness that started three years ago. I never got the chance to try it with her, maybe this was fate nudging me towards the right direction, giving me a chance to fix the one regret I have.

I sat back on my chair, my mind travelling back to those days. Man, how insane had I gone. All because of a sweet juicy virgin. I understand being pussy-whipped, I have been once, but to be pussy-whipped even while having never ever even tried it? That was pure lunacy.

In a way it's a good thing that Jason got in the way, otherwise I might have wound up in a pretty bad place, I mean, if that girl was able to mess me up only from afar, what could she do if we actually consumed? I'd have probably become addicted to her cunt.

Three years ago I was bummed, because that idiot had gotten to my treasure land before me, but I was also disappointed in her, because I didn't imagine it would take her just a couple of drinks to become so easy, and, to be honest, I was a little regretful. Now I realize I saved myself in corner that time.

It might have ended badly for me, I'm pretty sure of that, the girl was already brushing too many wrong strings, one or two more, and I'd have been the same as Jason was with Belinda: a lovesick fool that didn't see the elephant in the fucking crystal shop.

However, even while conscious of the trouble I escaped by chance three years ago, because I love risk, my hands flew over the keyboard on their own as I typed a short response to the ad.

Living with Tara Baker. She and I alone behind closed doors. Hmmm ... only wonders could come out of this. As long as I played safe, that is. Last time I got too close to the virgin, I nearly got burned, can I play with the sun without scorching myself? That's the real challenge.

***

I didn't resist. I just had to see before buying, it was stronger than I. Not that I wouldn't have bought either way, but, well, I was too excited to wait. So I just so casually checked her Facebook profile, and when I saw that Tara Baker worked at this nice café nearby campus, I just had to go.

So here I was now, sitting in a corner booth, slyly observing my prey. Preparation does help, after all, doesn't it? After three weeks in the woods, with no contact whatsoever with human beings, I'm a bit rusty too, so reconnecting with humanity before starting to chase my longtime prey might be useful.

The first step into this battle was to get rid of every eventual residual of whatever it is that I ever "felt" back in the day, whatever inkling of "feelings" I might have been close to developing, and it was quite easy, I'll admit. It's been three years after all.

However, just as I thought that, I saw this familiar girl entering the shop. She wore jeans and a baggy t-shirt with a band logo on it, her hair was up in a tight ponytail, the thick-rimmed glasses were at their place ... hard not to recognize her.

Tara Baker. My longtime desire, my most dangerous conquest, my most ardently yearned prey. Tara Baker. Three years later, still so mind-blowingly tempting.

Sadly, she lost some pounds more since I last saw her, at the graduation ceremony, but in truth, that did nothing but make her all the more sexier.

She exchanged a few words with the lady at the register, then she got to work ... thankfully, because that way I could admire that ass swinging for me. Ah, God, what would I do to have a piece of that!

When her gaze fell on me, I thought she'd busted me, but, just like old times, she didn't even realize just how much was I ogling. Back in the day, she never stopped to consider that, if I stared at her, it wasn't because I was trying to scare her, intimidate her, she just failed to realize that, simply, I ogled what I desired.

If I stared at her so much, it was quite simply because I wanted a free pass to the joyous lands of her unseen paradise. It's funny how she never caught me nearly drooling over her mouth-watering booty.

I'd have tried an approach when she came to serve me, but ... I had a plan. And to enact that, I needed to be the most invisible possible, because I'm pretty sure that, if she recognized me, all of my attempts would be in vain.

I lost the battle once, I won't again. I've got the right defenses this time, she won't catch me off guard, this time I can fend off any type of "emotion" thrown my way. I want Tara Baker, and I'll have her. But this time, she won't infect me with nonsensical doubts.

***

I knocked and knocked, at least four times, but nobody answered. I tried the doorbell, three more times, and finally, I heard some ruckus inside. So she was home after all, wasn't she?

Well, I knew she was, hell, I freaking followed her home from the café, how else could I have found the right building?1

I waited for her to come open the door, instead I heard a harsh noise from the inside.

Without really thinking it through, I just forced the door open. Years of sneaking into bedrooms taught me how to pick a lock, so it wasn't really hard to just let myself in.

The sight I found left me speechless, I'll admit. Tara Baker was there, on the floor, sitting, only a long blue towel on, hair so damp that it stuck to her frame like glue, making her kinda look like Samara, but in a sexy way.2

Man, I'm horny. I need to fuck something before I go insane. I remained at the door, and stuffed my hands in my pockets, trying to nonchalantly keep my boner at bay – hopefully she didn't see it –, and in order to conceal it, I asked: "Hey, uh ... you ok?"

She stared at me for a long minute, evidently, very evidently checking me out, which caused me to barely be able to hide a smirk. Harder it was not to gasp loud when, as she stood, her long blue towel fell, and ... oh, my freaking Jesus, I saw everything. Everything.

It was only half a minute, but I swear, those were the longest and most blissful 30 seconds of my life. I could feel my pants tightening for real this time, and how couldn't they? With all that mind-blowing glory on full show.

I turned around in order to relax my loins, before she threw me out upon seeing the mad erection her breathtaking graces caused. It might have been enhanced by abstinence, yeah, but just a little bit, the rest was all her merit ... I wonder how will living with her be.

Just imagine me hanging around this ongoing temptation while I try to work my game ... it'll be a miracle if I won't just blow up everything and try my luck the first night. Damn, did she really need to become so fucking hotter than hot? She was perfectly fine back in the day, why change.

"Who are you, and why are you here?" She asked sternly, evidently trying to pretend nothing happened, in which she might have been successful ... hadn't my mind been replaying the scene over and over again. Oh, sweet joy, it's gonna be way harder than I thought.

Clearing my throat, keeping my hands in my pockets, so that I could dissimulate the boner as much as possible, I turned around slowly, and answered: "Lukas Bennet. The one of the rent offer." She frowned, so I swiftly mended: "Yeah, sorry, we didn't have an appointment, but I'm quite in a hurry and ... well, I need a place". Bullshit. I even raked a hand through my hair for good measure, to make it look like I was truly desperate. I've always been a great pretender.

"I don't live with boys", she stated, clutching her towel while I so wished for gravity to be on my side just one more time.

I smirked instead, dissimulating my thoughts. "Yeah, I can imagine why ... but I'm a really quiet roommate". Because her eyebrows furrowed, I pointed out: "Look, you need somebody to split the bills with, I need somewhere to live ... deal?"

"The way I see it, I'm the one with the upper hand here".

Hmmm ... feisty, I like it. What happened to shy Tara, though? Sighing, pretending to be needy, I wondered: "What do I need to do? Beg you?" The slightest hint of a smirk molded her luscious lips, and I nearly blew off all of my act. Just who is this woman? And what happened to my cutely shy virgin? I do miss her, but damn, I can make do with this badass as well.1

She shook her head, as if to delete some thought that I bet wasn't at all nice. "Ok, uh ... I guess a preliminary interview won't hurt ... sit, I'll get dressed." Cue the boo-hoo in my mind, but I merely nodded. She jogged to her room, and I remained there staring at her juicy ass wobbling out of the living room. Man, how I'd love to tap that ass.

When I heard the door closing, I released the breath I'd been holding in ever since I came in. I glanced down at my pants, and noticed the boner was quite evident. Sighing, I rubbed my groin soothingly. "Come on, buddy, we need to wait", I whispered, knowing full well that it wouldn't be easy to convince one like Tara Baker to sleep with a stranger. Then again, she's changed a lot, who tells me she doesn't like this sort of thing now?

When she came back, she had on sweatpants and a t-shirt whose stuff might have been grey, but it surely did nothing to hide how her nipples were well erect. "Ok, so ... my name's Tara Baker, but I guess you know that already ..." Oh, believe me, baby, I've never forgotten that name.

As I nodded, she sat on the armchair in front of me, and I took that chance to lean in, clasping my hands together, mostly in order to conceal the boner. Did she realize her t-shirt was a little, um ... see-through? I had to nearly crane my neck in order not to gape at her boobs. The strands of hair falling into her eyes made her cute, though. But then again, that's my trouble with this girl.

She's always been a whole mix of cute yet unknowingly sexy, that it was enough to blow my mind away. If Sheila knew how many times I've thought about her best friend while having sex with her, she'd kill me.

Truth be told, the last times I slept with Sheila, it was mostly to make up for the fact that I wasn't able to get any closer to that juicy virgin. Then I broke it all off, finally realizing that I wasn't gonna get any nearer to Tara if I kept on screwing her best friend, I mean, she'd have never let me one mere inch closer than any stranger, if she knew what I wanted.

Then again, if this new Tara here, this badass girl, knew why am I here, what's my real reason to want to live with her ... she'd throw me out in a heartbeat, she'd probably punch me, too. Shy Tara wouldn't dare, but this new one here, this new girl might have no restraints. I hope in more than one sense, to be honest.

As she gaped at me, I decided there was no need to hide my real identity, she'd realize anyways sooner or later, so why not just get rid of the elephant in the room once for all? So I pointed out: "You should know me too, actually".

She frowned, predictably, molding those tempting lips into a surprised shape. "Should I?"

"We went to the same school", I pointed out."

"What?"

"Yeah, Lincoln High, in Bradford". She blinked her eyes, evidently unsure. "We've never talked, I think, but I remember you". Well, that's a bit of an understatement. I don't just remember who she is, I remember every single detail of her, and how couldn't I? When you spend so much time observing somebody, you easily find out more than you would by talking. Words may lie, but behaviors never deceive.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, you were that shy girl trying to be invisible".

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Didn't succeed very much ..."

I smirked, unable to retain myself. She's got sass, too, huh? It's like talking to a whole different person. I love it. Even though, I do miss the old shy girl. "I remember you always alone when you weren't hanging around Sheila", I mentioned.

Why else do you think I stuck to that man eater for so long? I mean, yeah, Sheila was freaking good in the sheets, but on the long run, I was getting tired ... I stuck around a while longer simply because, that way, it wouldn't have been suspicious for me to get close to Tara as well.

"I'll admit it took me a moment to recognize you", I dissimulated, because she seemed doubtful. Can't have her know I came here specifically because of her, can I?

"Well, I haven't recognized you at all."

I chuckled, unable to retain myself. "Good for me, then", I let slip my thoughts, and she frowned, so I smiled, trying to get back up: "When I applied for your offer, I didn't know it was you, although the name did ring a bell". Bullshit. But it sounded way better than "hey, I'm here mostly because the idea of having sex with you is driving me nuts".

"Then I came here, and ... well, you've changed, but there's still something of that little nerd in you", I admitted, this time truthfully, well, only half. There's not much left of who she was, regrettably, but you can see it in some small things.

"Changed how?" She asked, doubtful yet interested.

I half smiled, knowing I couldn't let out the whole truth. "I can't tell you that", I admitted.

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't even give me a chance."

"Nobody says I'll do it anyways."

I pressed my lips, unconsciously. Damn, how much has she changed! The shy Tara I remember would barely let her voice be heard, but this one ... I like it.

I like this new Tara, I mean, yeah, I liked the sweet little virgin, but this badass here makes me wanna do very bad things with her, more than I ever did, and the fact that I caught her staring at my lips didn't help.

"Look, courses are starting in a week, like the moron I am I forgot to apply for the dorms, so I'm left without a place to live. I've looked around and they're all taken already. Yours was the last one." How many lies just with one breath.

The new lead I've decided to take would forbid me to lie so blatantly, but it's better a white lie than the actual truth, don't you think? In this case definitely yes.

"I've never lived with a boy", she mumbled honestly.

I smirked. "I won't hang around naked, if that's your problem". I won't need to. "...unless of course, you do want me to..." Her response was a narrowing of her eyes, so I chuckled, in order to dissimulate. She crossed her arms, leaning back on the armchair, and I followed her movements, mostly because those arms now blocked my delightful vision on her breasts, and I think she caught me, but decided to ignore it.

"What makes you think I'll accept you in my house?"

"Technically, it's not your house ..."

"I live here and I choose the roommate, so ..."

Man, I'll love living with her. "Ok, uh ... because I'm ... interesting to look at?", She snorted, so I chuckled, mending: "Ok, sorry, I'm not really making a good impression, am I? But seriously, I need a place soon". Jeez, how much bullshit I'm spitting.

"Where are you staying now?"

Her interested tone told me I was close to cracking the nut, so I decided to step on gas, playing the sincerity card for once: "In a much expensive hotel. I can't squander all my fund on that."

Tara stared at me for a long moment, which gave me time to take in all of her beautiful features without her noticing. The glasses hid those hazel eyes, but I could still see them, and mentally go back to all those times when they would show nothing but anxiety and fear as they set on me back in the day, the slightest hint of freckles on her nose were still there as well, her lips were still so plump that I could stay here daydreaming about devouring them all day.

Tara has always been gorgeous, truth be told, even the moron I was back in the day could see it, so I wonder why did she always underestimate herself. Just because of some fatso?

Oh, please, fat doesn't mean ugly as much as skinny doesn't necessarily mean pretty.

Skinny girls can be ugly, too, I won't say I'd rather meet flesh other than bones, I honestly couldn't care less, I just love women in general, be it a size 2 or a size 22, to me, as a man, sizes don't matter, what I'll see is the overall beauty.

For me, you could have stretch marks, cellulite and crap like that, or you could have the most perfect body made for sin, but I'll focus on the overall sight, if that catches me, then fine.

And I think other guys too are like that, that's why I don't understand why do girls fuss this much about their looks. Take it from me, we guys want one thing: if you breathe, have boobs and a vagina, we'll be just fine with that.

Of course, we'll be fine for that one thing we want. As for more than that, well, that's tricky. Don't ask me, I don't have the slightest experience in real relationships.

I can tell you how to hook up with a guy, how to drive him nuts in the sexual department, but I can't tell you how to win his heart, because I honestly do not have the slightest idea what it's like to have "feelings" for someone.

The closest I've been to feeling, it was for this sweet little virgin that got too, too close to fucking me up back in the day. I saved myself in corner last time, like I said.

"I can't just accept whatever stranger in my apartment", Tara pointed out, breaking my trail of thoughts. Thankfully, because they were starting to take a pretty awful route.

"I'm no murderer or rapist. I swear", I joked, placing one hand over my heart, the other up in the air.

"Yeah, like a murderer or rapist would say yes, I am", she countered, rolling her eyes, making me chuckle.

Did I say I love this new badass Tara? I fucking do. I loved shy Tara, but I love more this one.

Hey ... love in the broad sense, you giggly kids, not in the actual meaning of the word, mind you. I do not do love. I have sex, a lot of sex, but love? Ha! Never. Just because I've decided to turn on a new lead, doesn't mean I've gone completely insane.2

Yes, I am onto more "responsible behaviors", as my dad put it, but that doesn't mean that in a few weeks you'll find me declaring my endless love for some chick that got me whipped.7

Love is dangerous. It's a tricky field I have no expertise in, therefore it's easier to just avoid it. I've learned the hard way that caring brings only to hurting. Therefore yeah, being a reborn Lukas? Yeah, all in for it. But seeking love? Never.

Then again, my main goal right now is to sneak into my former sweet little virgin's graces. Literally and figuratively. So I guess I gotta show some tender spots. Not that I mind. It means starting over for real, being someone my mom would have been proud of.

"Come on, if I was a girl, you wouldn't be so hesitant", I shot back at Tara.

"Of course now, it'd be easier with a girl." I huffed, unable to retain myself. "Look, I don't ..." suddenly her eyes widened, and she exclaimed: "Lukas ... Lukas Bennet. God, of course I know you! You were the worst element of our school!"

Busted. There goes my fantasy about starting over. I guess my past will always catch up with me, huh? Then again, how many were the chances that she would not put two and two together? I already told her I know her best friend.

In order to dissimulate my disappointment, I chuckled. "Well, that's flattering. I'm sure there were worst subjects". Obviously no. I was the king of bastards back in the day, even I know that. If I think back to my high school days, I realize that all I've been was a dipshit. No wonder Tara steered clear of me.

"Not worse than you. Bad boy was your reputation mark. I've witnessed more of your fights than soccer matches, and I am a fan of European football. You practically were in the principal's office every day. It's a miracle you graduated in time".

Case in point. She had the worst idea of me, no wonder she barely resisted one minute in my presence. Chuckling, I tried to debase it: "Any chances you'd believe me, if I said that was my evil twin?" but she glared, so I tried to mend: "Flattered to be in your memories anyways". Nope, still glaring. I sighed, trying the honest route: "Look, it's been ... three years already. I've changed. Believe it or not". Of course she didn't believe me. How could she? She's seen what I was. "How about ... a month trial? If by the end of the month we don't get along, you'll kick me out", I proposed, kinda scraping the bottom of the ideas jar.

She leered, surprisingly. "Why so complying?"

"I need a damn place to live, Tara". More like, I need a good fuck, but I couldn't tell her that, could I? She grimaced at my tone, so I mended: "Look, I don't know what you've heard about me, but I've changed. Really". At least that's true.

"It's not your past. It's just the whole thing ..."

I sighed, a little exasperated. "Come on, just because I'm a man? I won't do anything against you, I swear". Anything she won't allow me to, that is. If my plan works, at the end of the month trial she'll beg me to just fuck the hell out of her. If it doesn't, and everything goes for the worst, it'll be me to beg her for a chance. I'll do everything not to let that happen, though.

Tara pressed her lips, evidently pondering, and I had to pull my best poker face in order not to let her notice how much was I craving to devour those sexy lips of hers. "Ok. You're in", she finally approved.

I smiled, glad, although she soon mended: "But one thing wrong, and I'll kick you out."

I nodded, agreeing. "Thanks ... I think. I'll go pick my things, and ... we'll be roommates", I smiled truthfully for once. "I guess we'll need to set some ground rules, though". As far as I can remember Tara likes rules, she lives by those.

However, she surprised me, pressing her lips. "It's pretty simple. No parties in here."

I chuckled, amused. "You mean big parties, or ..."

She rolled her eyes. "Bring girls here only when you're absolutely sure I won't be home. And in any case restrict your ... intimate parties to your room". I barely resisted enough not to laugh in her face. Believe me, I won't need any other girl nor want any other lay, if my plan works out.

"Do you smoke?" She asked.1

I chuckled earnestly, because everybody just always assumes I do. "Nope."

"Seriously."

"No, I don't. I'm a sportsman, it'd be counterproductive, don't you think?" Truth be told, I tried smoking, but I hated the taste of cigarette.

"Mmh, ok. Guess I should show you the rest of the apartment ..."

"Just my room is enough for now."

"It's the one on the left", she said, pointed at the end of the corridor, "The bathroom is on the other side, but you've got one in your own room, so ... the apartment is big enough for us not to bother each other, I think."

I chuckled. "You want me out of the way the most possible, huh?" I wonder why.

"It's not you, well, not just you, I just ... like being alone".

Leaning out, I scrutinized her for a moment, pretending to be surprised as I pointed out: "You know, I remember you much shier."

She blushed a little. Ah, so cute. "P-People change", she mumbled, lowering her glance. Well, hello, old Tara, here you come again. Nice. So there is indeed still something of my sweet little virgin left in this badass, huh? I love it. Her cheeks were of a lovely pink, it was hard not to just go over there and pinch them, harder it was not to just go grab her and kiss the heck out of her.

Man, those plump lips used to be my ongoing dream. How would it be to devour them, how damn good would they feel as they wrapped around my ... ahm, okay, I better keep my thoughts in check, she might bust me in a minute if I'm not careful. Damn, I really need to fuck something before I go nuts.

But I don't feel like making do with whatever chick I'll find, to be honest. Maybe it's insane, but I feel like waiting, playing my game, seeing if I can manage to get Tara Baker finally in my bed. If I'm pushed by the need of a man that hasn't gotten any in weeks, I might have one more reason to step up my game.

"What about cooking?" I asked, leaning back on the sofa, in order to give her back her courage. I didn't mean to make her uneasy.

"We can take turns. But I highly doubt we'll ever eat together."

I half smiled, although wondering why was she so adamant on keeping me away. "You should give me a chance at least, Tara."

"I am. I said you're in."

"No, I mean, if we're to live together, we should try to be friends, but if you reject me in advance ..."

"I don't need your friendship. I just need your help to pay the bills. That's all. We can live together without ever talking to each other for what I care". Ouch. That's ... rough. I mean, I would say such words, but I didn't expect them to come out her mouth ... I guess I'll need to work it out more than I thought.

In order to dissimulate – something I guess I'll have to do often with her –, I chuckled, though being serious as I asked: "Tell me, Tara, why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. I just don't trust you."

"But you don't even know me."

"I know your reputation". Here we go again. My reputation. My goddamn reputation. It's all about that. Always. I keep stumbling back into it, no matter how hard I try to put distance. I've been the king of bastards, Tara has seen everything of it, she's seen all the worst stunts of mine, how could I expect her to just forget them? I should have lied better, not allow her to remember who I was, I guess, that would have made it easier, but I thought honesty was the best policy ... turns out it isn't.1

"I've changed", I pointed out, a little bitterly. She snorted, looking away, evidently disbelieving. "If you've changed so much, why can't I?"

"I haven't changed."

"Yes, you have. I remember you much shier, insecure. You barely talked. Now here you are, facing a whole conversation, and with what fierce ..."

"Maybe I'm just in a bad mood."

"Yeah, and it's me to cause that?"

"You tell me, you're the one that broke into my house."

"Hey, I knocked. You didn't hear me". Not my fault is she was too busy to hear the doorbell.

"And that's reason enough to enter without announcing yourself?"

I would have sighed, but she was staring straight at me, so I resorted to smirking instead, letting my eyes rake over her delightful curves. "Didn't know I'd find you naked, sweetheart. In that case I wouldn't have even knocked ..."

So much for turning on a new lead. She wants the king of bastards, she expects the jerk. Then the jerk she'll have.