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Now reading: Chapter 24: First Taste from The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine, a Romance novel by lucymumbua.

Ella’s POV:

The stupid jerk kissed ! He freaking kissed ! He stole my first kiss, right there in the middle of the alley, without warning. Shocking? Yes. Infuriating? A hundred tis more. He actually kissed ! Jason freaking stole my first kiss! I was too stunned to react for a second, just frozen in disbelief. And yes, I know what you’re thinking—how in the world is a final-year campus girl still unkissed? Well, bla my overprotective father for that one. He practically scared off any potential guys my whole life. And, for the record, yes, I’m still a virgin too. Again, thanks, Dad.

But that doesn’t an my first kiss should’ve been with an obnoxious, self-centered narcissist like Jason. No way. For a mont, my brain short-circuited. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just that he kissed —it was the nerve of it, the absolute audacity of him thinking he could just do whatever he wanted. My shock quickly gave way to a burning rage.

Yet, here I was, pinned to the wall by the most insufferable guy I’ve ever t, and he just planted his lips on mine like he had every right. My arms were trapped, and with his leg between mine, I couldn’t knee him either. So, I did what any rational, pissed-off girl in my situation would do—I bit him. And I bit *hard.*

"Fuck!" he yelped, pulling back quickly, his hand going to his mouth. He glared at , and then, of course, Jason being Jason, smirked. "Didn’t know you were into that kind of kinky stuff."

I wanted to scream. Or punch him. Maybe both. Instead, I just grinned at him sweetly, hiding the fury bubbling up inside . "Oh, you think that was crazy? Wanna see how far I can really go?" I asked, my voice dripping with fake innocence.

Jason stepped back, raising his hands in surrender, still grinning like an idiot. "I’m good," he said, his eyes scanning with that stupid smug look. "I’m fine with this... level of craziness."

"You jerk!" I yelled, wiping my lips with the back of my hand as if I could scrub away the feel of his lips. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

Jason just stood there, leaning back against the wall again, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets like he hadn’t just crossed every line imaginable. His lips curved into that smug smirk I hated, the one that made want to punch him.

"You looked like you needed to be shut up," he said, so casually it almost made explode.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" I shot back, furious. "You can’t just—ugh, I hate you!"

His smirk grew even wider, which only fueled my anger.

My teeth clenched, fists balled at my sides. Before I could respond with another biting retort, his face shifted into sothing more serious, more calculating. "But listen, Blue Eyes, if you go out with Max," he said, his voice dropping, "I’ll tell everyone you’re a waitress at the diner."

He let that threat hang in the air, then turned and walked away like it was no big deal.

I stood there, fuming. My heart was racing, but not from the kiss—no, from the sheer rage coursing through . How dare he? Not just kiss , but then threaten like that?

Jason’s POV

I still can’t believe that stupid waitress bit . I an, I kissed her, for crying out loud, and instead of responding, she sank her teeth into my lip. It stung—a mix of shock and adrenaline that had my heart racing. My lips throbbed, tingling from that bizarre encounter. I wanted to kiss her again. And If I didn’t know better, I’d think she enjoyed it as much as I did, and that realization sent a wave of frustration through . Hormones were in overdrive, and I knew I’d do sothing reckless if I didn’t get laid soon.

So, I texted Amber, and she replied almost instantly, saying she’d be here in ten minutes.

As I waited, I glanced around the dimly lit room, feeling the anticipation build. When Amber walked in, she looked great—her hair catching the light just right, her smile warm and inviting. But still, I didn’t feel that spark I craved. Sothing was missing, a thrill I couldn’t quite pin down.

It wasn’t until I found myself lost in thought that the vision struck —a peculiar blue-eyed soone. Ella. She had that way of looking at , a mix of mischief and sothing dark that made my heart race. As I leaned in to kiss Amber, I closed my eyes, and the kiss turned into sothing else entirely. I envisioned kissing Ella instead, her soft, plump lips yielding beneath mine, intoxicating in a way Amber’s never could.

The more I thought about Ella, the more I craved her. I could almost taste her, the sweetness of her lips lingering in my mind. When I finally pulled away from Amber, I was caught off guard by the desire coursing through . It was as if I was craving sothing far beyond a re physical connection.

I couldn’t shake the image of Ella. Each thrust I envision it was Ella I was fucking; every gasp from Amber reminded of the breathy moans I imagined escaping Ella’s lips. I tried to focus, to drown out the thoughts of blue eyes and soft skin, but it was no use. I was lost in fantasies, my mind painting scenes that my body couldn’t ignore.

When I was inside Amber, I pictured Ella’s blue eyes locked onto mine, her expression one of desperation and need. I imagined her, vulnerable and eager, as I thrust deeper, wanting to make her feel everything I couldn’t express. The fantasy fueled my urgency, driving to lose myself in the mont.

After I ca, the haze of pleasure faded, and reality crashed over like a wave. I lay there, breathless, and the weight of what had just happened settled in. I hadn’t just fantasized about Ella—I had imagined fucking her the entire ti I was with Amber. The guilt gnawed at , and it pissed to even feel it.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but wonder: what would it take to shake this feeling? Would I ever be able to move on from the vision of those srizing blue eyes?

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