I dragged the shirt over my head, cursing loudly, quickly discarding it down onto the pile that was slowly growing by the minute. For the majority of the morning I'd been making my way through the entire contents of my wardrobe, without any luck.

I didn't know what it was about fashion, but even the word alone scared me. I just didn't get it. I was completely clueless when it came to clothes. I guess I was a tomboy at heart, preferring comfort over style.

I stood despairing at my reflection in the mirror, studying my frame. Nothing remotely girly suited me. I had witnessed that in the last few items I had just tried on. I couldn't be feminine if I tried.

Appearance wise my hair was long and a rich chocolate brown, along with my eyes. The stark contrast in colour only accentuated my translucent white skin further. My skin was pretty flawless, apart from a sprinkling of tiny freckles that covered my nose. I had the typical English rose complexion, which my mother said most women would kill for, and that I should embrace it, rather than fight against it.

I was five foot nine and taller than the majority of girls at school. Some said I should be a model, but I didn't quite see it myself. I just didn't think I had the looks, confidence or attitude for it. I was slim but athletic. I loved to dance, which helped keep me toned and in shape. It was my one true passion and luckily for me, I was just about to enrol in the D and B School of Performing Arts, studying Musical Theatre.

It was something I had aspired to do since I was young--to be on stage at the West End. I always remembered as a child being mesmerized, watching in complete awe, falling under the spell of the performers on stage. They were my inspiration, my motivation, and I had no desire to do anything else.

Weekends were my favourite part of the week. Being part of a local dance group, we met up every Saturday and Sunday. We spent our days studying, learning different styles of dance and techniques and endless hours practising routines until we were fit to drop. It was the one thing that brought me out of my shell. For a short period of time I became someone else. It helped to escape the chaos in my head while I lost myself wholeheartedly in the music. It was my heaven, and the only time I truly felt alive.

I quickly dressed wearing my usual attire of rock T-shirt and jeans, completing my outfit with my old faithful Converse. They had seen better days but no matter how battered they became, I'd wear them until they literally fell to pieces.

I cleared away the remaining discarded clothes and breathed a sigh of relief. I hated any form of mess. My room was my pride and joy. It was where I escaped when I needed time alone. I took great pride in the fact I had decorated the room myself, much to my mother's displeasure. Painting it a deep, blood red that along with the dark furnishings, it gave it more of a gothic edge.

The walls were adorned with framed posters of all my favourite films, each one iconic in my overgrowing collection. I had watched them all countless times over. I was pretty sure I'd need to buy extra copies as replacements from overly abusing the originals.

My phone let out a dying bleep, reminding me of its imminent low battery. My eyes automatically flicked over to the shelf where it usually sat only to find an empty space. I didn't have to be Einstein to know where it would be, charging a certain idiotic brother's phone no doubt.

The familiar shooting, shouting and chatter spilled out as I marched right though into Mike's room. I didn't bother knocking, after his unwelcoming visit into mine, I decided to pay him the same courtesy.

My plan soon fell flat when I took in a sharp breath, instantly becoming hit with the all too familiar tidal wave that crashed over me. It stopped me dead in my tracks, ripping all air from my lungs as desire coursed through every vein. My heart beat so rapidly I could barely function. I felt my knees buckle, in response to the perfect vision right in front of me.

My eyes locked on the sight of Joel lying spread out across the bed. His elbows propped up his large, muscular upper body. He stared engrossed in the game, with his fingers avidly working the controller.

The usual flood of feelings came rushing back, filling me with such intensity that I virtually lost all control. It happened no matter how hard I fought against it, but then it was always hard to keep my emotions in check whenever Joel was around.

I licked my lips. My eyes slowly roamed over every inch of him. Joel's body was simply breathtaking--all rock hard and contoured, with every single muscle clearly defined. He had the most amazing abs I'd ever seen, you could bounce a coin off them. There were times I really wanted to test that theory.

His favourite white Foo Fighters T-shirt was pulled tight over his broad, muscular shoulders. My eyes made their way down his long, sculpted back, coming to rest on that firm, tight bottom of his. The ripped jeans he wore hugged him in all the right places.

God, he was perfect.

If his body wasn't enough to contend with, then his tattoos, took him to a whole new level. His back, shoulders and arms were all inked with some of the most amazing graphic and intricate designs, giving him a rocky, edgier look.

Then there was his tattoo sleeve.

Ugh, it was my kryptonite.

It always made me weak. The attention to detail of each tattoo was exceptional. Each one had their own significant meaning. Even though they were different in their own style, they complimented each other in a way, almost like part of a story. I had often thought about looking at each one in great detail, touching and tracing my fingers along the outlines.

A soft sigh left my lips, staring at the guy I had been in love with for the past six years. Yep, six long years, and he never once noticed. It was a joke really, almost laughable. He'd always looked on me as more of a little sister from the moment we met, never once realising during that time that I wanted to be so much more.

Joel was now twenty-one and even more good looking. His chiselled face was more defined, now that he'd out grown his boyish looks. He had a raw masculinity about him. And boy, did he know how to use it.

Years of playing football and hitting the gym had built up his lean six two athletic frame to Greek god proportions. It was hard not to react to a body like his. My eyes were always hungry, eager to devour as much of him as possible.

He was the definition of eye candy. He had the whole indie rock vibe going on. The tattoos, the stubble, that sexy just rocked up look of ripped jeans and rock band T-shirt, and of course his beloved Converse.

My eyes drifted up to his silky, rich chocolate brown hair. It always had that 'just got out of bed' feel to it. It fell down across his face and had a natural wave that effortlessly fell into place.

It was just so damn sexy.

My hand twitched, itching to grab and play with it. I could only imagine how good it would be to feel his silky, brown locks running through my fingers.

Sensing my lust filled stare, he turned to look at me. His beautiful sapphire blue eyes held mine for a few moments. It was almost like he was reading my mind as I watched an amused smile quickly spread across his face.

Shit!

A flush instantly hit my cheeks, and I scowled in return. I hated the fact he had caught me. His ego was already inflated with all the attention he received. I didn't want him to know I was one of many that lusted after him too. That part of me I wanted to keep private so he couldn't use it as a weapon against me. His face dropped, and he frowned a little at my response. I ripped my eyes away from his, no longer able to look at him.

I couldn't let him distract me now.

I was a woman on a mission.

I flounced by him and grabbed the charger from the socket. I ripped the cord free from Mike's phone and tossed it down onto the bed.

"Ever heard of knocking, Iz? This is my room, the last time I checked," Mike snapped, while his eyes remained transfixed on the screen.

I stormed over, waving the charger in his face. "Well, can you explain how the hell my charger ended up in here? Was it by some kind of magic? Stay out of my room, Mike, and then I will respect your rules." My heart was racing as adrenalin began taking over. I didn't know if it was more out of annoyance for Mike, or the fact Joel's eyes were still locked on me.

I didn't dare look.

I needed to concentrate, not be overwhelmed by those piercing blue eyes that basically turned me to jelly.

"Iz, I need the charger, my phone is nearly dead," Mike snapped.

I huffed at his tone. He was now making me feel like I was being the unreasonable one? "Well, here's a suggestion: buy your bloody own," I shouted over my shoulder. Mike annoyed me with his scrooge like tendencies. He always had enough money to go out with though, and quite frankly, I was sick of hearing the same old story.

"You know I keep forgetting, and I don't get paid till next week, just let me charge it 'cause I need it for tonight."

I spun around, glaring at him. But his eyes never left the screen, and no apology left his lips. He obviously thought he had done nothing wrong.

"No chance. I need my charger. All you want your phone for is to take the numbers of all the skanks you'll meet tonight." A look of disgust passed over my face. I could only imagine all the women they would be hooking up with.

"It's not like you need your phone charged, you won't be going out it's Saturday night." Mike sniggered. Joel quickly followed suit, both finding great amusement in my lack of social life.

My eyes narrowed in anger. "Fuck off, Mike. At least I'm not riddled with god knows what, unlike you," I snapped, marching out the room.

 I heard the mumble of Mike's voice, and I knew exactly what that meant. His words were enough to instil fear right through me. I slammed the door behind me, searching for anything to withstand the mighty force of Joel.

I contemplated dragging my entire wardrobe over, but then I would probably kill myself in the process, so that was a definite no.

In the end I leaned back hard, in the smallest vain of hope it might just be enough.

But really who was I kidding?

This was Joel, who was built like Superman. I had no chance, but the voice inside willed me on, and I wasn't about to surrender anytime soon.

It took less than four seconds before the door shunted forward. I dug my heels in, wedging them hard into the carpet to create some friction and pushed back hard. But it was all pretty relentless, within seconds I was soon manoeuvred along.

"Get out of my room, Joel, before I scream the spot in," I shouted, spinning around as I held up my hands signalling for him to stay back.  I hoped my words of warning were enough to stop him.

He chuckled, the amusement clearly evident on his face. His eyes danced with excitement. He was finding great enjoyment in my reaction. "Hand the charger over, Iz, and no one gets hurt." He held out his hand and smiled at me seductively.

I scowled at his audacity.

Did he think he could charm it from me that easily?

"Who are you? Mike's lackey? Why doesn't he come get the charger himself if it's that important?" I snapped. My heart crashed into my chest as Joel's eyes locked with mine. The look he gave me was slowly driving me wild. I felt my whole body reacting to his intense stare. Oh god, this was not the best time to lose all control. I had to try to focus. This was a battle I definitely needed to win.

He inched ever closer. "Because he's in the middle of an X-box live game, you can't leave a guy hanging." He shook his head, obviously bemused by the fact I didn't know these things.

I gripped the charger tighter.

Where the hell could I possibly hide it?

In desperation and quite possibly a moment of madness, I shoved it down the front of my top. Then instantly regretted it the moment Joel's smile split his face in two like he was welcoming the challenge.

Shit!

My eyes widened in horror.

Had he any boundaries at all?

Obviously not.

"Do you really think that's going to stop me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in such a teasing way it made my insides squirm with delight. "Iz, it just makes it more exciting."

The wicked glint in his eyes stirred something deep inside. His lips pulled up into a sexy grin, and I swallowed slowly. He continued edging his way nearer like he was cornering a wild animal.

Holy hell.

The size of his frame was intimidating, and my eyes widened in response as he began pushing me farther back deeper into my room. I could tell he was taking great delight in the fear building in my eyes, while self-assurance radiated in his.

But I was not going down that easy.

I made a desperate attempt to push past him. His arms grabbed me, pulling me back into him. He picked me up effortlessly like I weighed less than nothing. My legs thrashed in anger before he threw me onto the bed. He quickly wrestled me down and pinned my hands above my head.

The weight of his body crushed me down deep into the mattress. He was chuckling in delight, his hot breath tickled my face at my many meagre attempts to push him off and break free.

Enraged by my lack of strength, I screamed out in frustration. "Get off me, Joel. I mean it, I will kill you for this."