Jorja
I slam my locker door, spin the lock, and freeze.
“Sup, Juicy?” Jocko Malone leans down to laugh in my ear.
Trying to ignore him but knowing he won’t let me; I roll my eyes as I close them and grit my teeth. “Stop calling me that!”
“Why? You and I both know it's true.” He croons, making my knees weak.
I bite my tongue because he's right. The minute I catch a whiff of his musky scent, my panties are wet, and it pisses me off that I can’t control the way my body reacts to him. Jocko is too arrogant and too cocky because he's too gorgeous, but I refuse to fawn over his perfect ass like all the other girls. It's disgusting the way they prostrate themselves, wanting his attention. I have more self-respect than that and self-discipline.
Defiant, I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder in a pitiful attempt to knock him away.
He laughs harder, then whispers in my ear. “You are going to have to do better than that to make me back off.”
“Gawd, you are so infuriating! Why do you torture me?”
“Because I can … and because you are so damn delicious when you get all pissed off.”
I start to push him away but think better about it. If my pussy soaks itself with his scent, how will it betray me if I touch him? No …. I don't need to make that mistake. “Move, Jerk-off. I'm going to be late for class.”
He laughs out loud at my feistiness, enjoying my resistance way too much, but he steps back.
Without another word, I stomp off.
Margie giggles when I walk up. “Jocko teasing you again?”
I grit my teeth and nod my head.
She giggles harder. “Honestly, Jorja, I don’t know what your problem is. If Jocko Malone were flirting with me like that, I would be in heaven!”
I roll my eyes at her. “You don’t know him like I do.”
She snorts. “What's there to know? He is 6’4” and glorious!”
“He's an ass!”
“So?” She shrugs. “He's a 6’4” glorious ass!”
I shake my head. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for class.”
Jocko
Watching Jorja stomp away is nearly as good as staring down her shirt at her tits when she kneels at her locker. Her body's built like a brick house, and her anger adds a twitch to her stride that jerks her booty from side to side.
“Hey, Jocko,” Britney says as she slinks in to take Jorja’s place. Her eyes glued to me like I'm her next meal.
I open my locker but keep an eye on her. She's pinched my ass and grabbed my junk before.
She steps closer. “So, is it true you throw a 100-mile-an-hour fastball?”
I shut my locker and give her a look that means ‘I don't have time for your stupid games,’ but she doesn’t take the hint. She knows it's true and had her response already planned.
“Oh,” she says, so breathy it's more like a moan.
Mrs. Strickland’s voice comes over the intercom. “Jocko Malone, please come to the office.”
Britney giggles wickedly. “What did you do this time?”
