Page 6 of The Prom

The grounds of Rockwell academy are vast and my route soon takes me through the trees toward the dungeons that are used for Frankie’s pet project, The Claiming. In this dungeon, five masked guys, dressed as centurions, wait in a locked prison cell for five willing girls to take up the challenge to escape them. They are given a head start and take off through the tunnels in the hope they put up a good fight at least before they are caught and shackled to the guy who they will be paired with for the semester.

The only way to break the commitment is to choose to twist at the Twist ceremony that is held at the beginning of every semester. The fact I entered at all is still something I haven’t figured out yet and I’m guessing it has a lot to do with falling in with the rest of them.

As I jog through the trees, my mind is full of centurions, dark tunnels and hooded figures and I must have zoned out for a while because the next thing I know, I’m sprawling on the ground after tripping over a tree root.

“Fuck!” My ankle turns as I go down and as I fall, my hands brush against a bare branch, the wood splintering under my skin.

A sharp pain slices through me as my body attempts to work out what just happened and I must be delirious because once again, somebody drops to the ground in front of me and a concerned voice says huskily, “Hey, are you okay?”

I attempt to focus and as the shape takes on a human form, my heart almost dives out of my body because staring at me with concern is Drake Bellingham, who appears to be making a habit of picking me up when I fall.

THREE

IMOGEN

I say nothing because I’m speechless and as I stare into his bright blue eyes, I lose myself in the process. I am drowning. I can’t breathe and yet there’s a lightness to my spirit I haven’t felt for quite some time.

I can only stare and only when his fingers trickle against my skin, do I realize exactly what an idiot I must look like right now and I gasp, “I’m sorry, I, well, I wasn’t looking and um, tripped.”

His eyes flash with concern.

“Does it hurt?”

I wince as my ankle throbs. “Kind of.”

His strong hands reach for my ankle and as he lifts it onto his muscular thigh, his fingers untie my laces and he eases the sneaker off my feet, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“It’s sprained.”

I try desperately not to pant as he massages the ankle with a strong, reassuring touch and gazes at me with concern.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but we should get some ice on it.”

“We?”

“I’m not going to leave you to deal with this alone” He raises his eyes and as his gaze connects with mine, it floods my entire body with a surprising reaction.

I catch my breath and he peers at me with concern. “We should get you to the doctor.”

“It’s fine; just a sprain.”

He shakes his head. “You’ve turned as white as a ghost. There’s no reason to hide your pain. I’m here to help.”

He studies my ankle with a worried frown and says firmly, “I’ll bind it to prevent it from causing you any further discomfort.”

I say nothing as he removes his sweat soaked t-shirt and rips it into shreds with his insane muscles. I swallow hard as I stare at a chest scripted in black ink that travels down over his shoulders and note the sweat glistening on his toned abs as he binds my ankle with what remains of his t-shirt.

I can’t breathe as my body reacts in desperate lust to a person who is one hundred percent male kneeling before me. The concentration on his face distracts him from realizing I am openly staring at his chiseled features that are set in stone as he tends to my ankle. I am insanely attracted to this man despite knowing he’s my teacher and I excuse that because he can’t be many years older than me, anyway.

“I’ll help you up. Don’t put any pressure on your foot and I’ll take you back.”

His husky voice disturbs the fantasy playing out in my mind where he forces me to the forest floor and helps me off with all of my clothes before showing me exactly what happens to little girls who wander foolishly into the forest alone.

“Back?” I have obviously lost the power of rational speech and he must think I’m an idiot as he stands and pulls me up with him as if I am a leaf from the forest floor.

“You have a choice. I can carry you back, or you can try to hobble. It’s your decision.”

Merely the thought of him holding me in his arms makes me dizzy because it hasn’t escaped my attention that he is nearlynaked. His broad chest is gleaming with sweat as he appears to have been on the same mission as me. Just imagining my face pressed to his hard muscles causes my entire body to fold and I gasp a deep breath, as I say hastily, “It’s okay. I’ll attempt to walk.”

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