“I don’t care, Darlene.”

“I know, but if you just let us use this property for the party, I promise I’ll stay out of your hair.” She squeezes my waist again, and I push her and Kiki off me. Jesus, these fucking women won’t leave me alone. And they interrupted a possible introduction between my cock and sexy neighbor.

“You can’t use the house. Last time I let you, it got trashed and one of your hooker friends started a fire in the kitchen.”

Her pout drives me fucking mad. That shit used to work on me, when I disappeared for days at work and she claimed she needed a weeklong spa retreat in the Alps to forgive me. Who the fuck knows what she actually did on those trips. Knowing what I know now, I wonder if she’s been muff diving longer than she admitted.

“I promise we’ll behave.”

“I said no. Now, you asked to use the house to lay on the beach. Do it before I kick you out. I have shit to do.” And by shit, I mean figure out why that little firecracker just flipped me off, then figure out a way to get her to sign the contract and move the closing date up.

I push both women off me and walk back inside.

Heading to my room, the call I placed to my overpaid realtor pushes itself to the forefront of my mind. Clara had no luck. I pay her a shit ton not to come back and tell me she couldn’t get the signature. I thought about going back over there and taking her hand and forcing her, but I was too much of a mess to handle it. I knew I should’ve called Dr. Winters and scheduled an appointment, but I wanted to be done with her. I was getting better. I didn’t need her.

This week proved otherwise.

I knew I was starting to relapse when I went to work calculating the probability of seeing her when I left. The ratio of favorable outcomes had me at seventeen. The problem was, I didn’t see her once. I was off, or she was hiding. But why? What was she doing in that shack? The list of those probabilities was so long. Over a hundred possible outcomes. By the time I laid my head down, forcing sleep, I was too far gone to do that. So, I went to the beach—a place I always seem to find solace. I swam, and jogged up and down the shore, hoping to exhaust myself. But the numbers kept forming.

I have no idea why I’m obsessing over this girl. She was in my presence for less than ten minutes and I can’t get her out of my mind. I want that signature. But I want something else with it. I’m a man. Admitting I wanted my dick in her mouth isn’t wrong. It’s honest. I beat off to the thought of her sucking my cock more times than I could count. Literally. But my mind always went back to numbers. The probability of that outcome. Getting her to suck my dick. Fractions among fractions, thinking of all the ways to get that to happen.

I need to shut it down. She isn’t as young as I imagined, but she’s still young. I’m guessing mid-twenties. Half my age. Not that age ever stopped me before. Pussy is pussy. But would she just be pussy to me?

She should be. I’m not in the right state of mind to get involved with anyone. I need to stay focused on the business. But having her watch me fondle my cock still has me at half-mast. I should go over there and force her to finish him off just for teasing me.

I shake my head. Get a grip, asshole. Call Dr. Winters. No. I can handle this on my own. I’ve been stressed before and dealt with it. I’ve been dealing with it my entire life. It wasn’t until Jerald Winslow, a counselor from the shelter I had been visiting, took interest in me that I realized what I was. Or at least confirmed I wasn’t retarded like my mother told me just before she left me on the beach, wanting nothing to do with me.

The center footed the bill for the testing. When the results came back stating I was a genius, everyone including me was shocked. A child prodigy they said. My level of output was that of an expert. I didn’t know how or why I was able to do the things I did, but when numbers were involved, my brain just solved them. My memory was sharp. Algorithms, calculating speed, fractions built into fractions. It all came naturally to me. They said I was rare. I thought I was a freak. I didn’t want this talent. I wanted to scrape the remnants of my visual vortex so the numbers would stop.

In the passing years of my young life, Jerald guided me. He helped me manage the stress of my mind. Taught me how to keep it at bay. And when it was time, he enrolled me in Harvard. I took the tests, stood in front of the university board, and got a scholarship.

Jerald Winslow saved my life. And I was forever indebted to him. He took me off the streets and made me feel more like a human than a freak. He gave me a home, even though I preferred the openness of the beach. The sand. He guided me where my own mother banished me. He saw me as a gift where my own mother saw me as a mutant.

Before I even bought myself a new pair of shoes, I paid Jerald back for all the money he spent on me. For all the testing. I donated enough money to the shelter, the entire town could live there without fear of starving. I never had a father figure, but he was that to me. When he died, I relapsed. We were in our second year with Four Fathers and life was great. I was married and just had a son. When the shelter notified me there was an altercation with a homeless man and Jerald was shot, I about lost it.

I wanted revenge. I didn’t care if I got killed or went to jail. I would have been in both those predicaments if Jerald hadn’t saved me. It was my turn to find justice for him. But Eric set me straight. He got me into a clinic under watch until I was able to clear my head. That’s when I met Dr. Winters. She taught me how to control my panic attacks. How to manipulate my mind when the numbers started to take control. And it helped. For the most part. Until recently.

I shove the memories to the back of my mind, walk into the master bathroom, and turn on the shower. Before I try to sway my little neighbor, I need a cold shower and a rough jack-off.

* * *

I’m coming up from the shore after a seven-mile run. My muscles are on fire. My skin feels tight from all the sand spitting up while I trekked along the coast. Walking up to the outdoor shower under the deck, I kick off my running shoes and step out of my running shorts. I turn the nozzle and don’t bother waiting for the water to heat up. The coolness of the spray feels refreshing on my sweaty skin.

I grab for the bar of soap and begin lathering up my chest when I hear her. Well…hear mumbling. I turn to see her walking down the worn steps of her deck and get a burst of annoyance over the fact that she’s even using the back stairway. The house is old as fuck and those steps are unsafe. With twelve steps, there’s a probability of her being able to use them ninety-two more times before one breaking. The number of steps that can give out at the same time are—

“You shouldn’t use those stairs,” I yell, startling her. She wobbles, grabbing for the banister, giving me another scare. The thing looks ready to fall off.

“Jesus, Numbers, you scared the piss outta me,” she yelps, glaring at me like she wants to rip my head off. And I don’t care, so long as she gets down those bunk stairs. That’s when she starts bouncing on each step.

“Don’t fucking do that. Those aren’t safe,” I snap back.

“Don’t do what, this?” She jumps again, slamming her feet back down on another step. My anger spikes. Is she out of her fucking mind? Can’t she see the stairs wobbling under her? She repeats the same gesture to the next two steps, giving me palpitations. The reoccurring effect has her falling through in less than seven more jumps. I glance over, noticing she’s only using one hand to hold onto the railing and has a bottle in her other.

“Are you drunk?” I ask, now worried about her state of mind. She won’t be able to catch herself if she falls.

“Super drunk actually. Thanks for asking. Now, mind your own business.” She makes it to the bottom of the stairs. Relief washes over me as I watch her walk onto the sand and dig her toes into the cool pebbles of the sea. Then, she stumbles and trips. “Whoa! I’m okay!” she squeals, catching herself before she falls face-first into the sand.

I’m curious what she’s up to. Until my mind figures it out. “You can’t go in the water. It’s not safe at night.” I’m frozen, waiting for her to listen to me and turn back around. But she doesn’t.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen you in it all week at night. Nice try.” She keeps walking. The tide has picked up the last couple days due to it being hurricane season. If I weren’t trained to handle the choppiness of the waves, I wouldn’t have been out there either.

“Yeah, and I know the water. You don’t. Stay out of there,” I demand. Why the fuck is she still walking? Christ, she’s wobbling down to the water. The farther she gets, the harder it is to see her. The half-crescent moon glows against the water, but it’s still so dark, I struggle to see anything but her silhouette. “Hey!” I yell, but this time, she doesn’t respond.

I drop the bar of soap and run through the sand on high alert, listening for any signs of struggle. What the hell is wrong with this girl? Unsynchronized splashing. I go to call her name, but realize I don’t even know it. Numbers, letters, and equations blast through my head at the chances I guess it right. It’s undefinable, due to the various coed names—

“Hey!” I yell toward where I last spotted her. My feet slam into the sand, hitting the lining of the ocean shore and—

“BOO!”

I jump, losing my balance, and fall back into the cool ocean water.

“Holy shit! You should see your face!” She laughs. I wipe the water off my face as she stands above me, laughing, holding her chest. “Oh, man. For such a big guy, you sure do scare easily. I wish I recorded—”

Pushing to my feet, I tackle her, taking the last words right out of her mouth. She squeals as I bear hug her body to my chest and walk furiously with her in my tight hold into the cold water.

“Oh my God! Stop! It’s freezing!” She kicks back and forth, trying to fight her way out of my grip. “Ahhh! Stop, please stop! It’s fucking cold!” I don’t stop until we’re almost shoulder deep under. “Hold your breath.” Her eyes shine in the moonlight, a battle warring behind them. She realizes my next move and doesn’t know whether to yell or obey. My face remains stoic, serious, and she takes a deep breath as I sink us both beneath the water's surface.

When I pop back up, she has her arms and legs wrapped around me, the struggle forgotten. Her hair is soaked, covering her face. I lift my hand to brush it off, giving me the pleasure of her eyes. Green. Wide. She knows I’m lost in the sight of her. She seems to be doing the same. Her firm tits press nicely against my chest, and she has to be dumb not to feel my hard cock, even in the cold temperature.

It’s then I remember I don’t have any shorts on. A few seconds pass before she comes to the same realization. “Are you naked?” she asks, her voice hoarse. I can’t help the urge I allow to happen. Using my hand gripping her taut ass, I press her into me. Fuck, that felt good. “Yep, naked,” she whispers, her lids half closed. Her actions tease me, and I press into her again, gaining another reward. This time, her eyes shut and mouth parts. Hell knows what’s changed between earlier today and now, but my dick tells me I should keep going until she tells me to fuck off.

“You okay with this?” I bend, putting my lips on her bare shoulder, and suck on her skin, which is softer than I expected.

“I don’t like you, but I’m really horny and you’re hot, so yep, let’s do this.”

Fuck. The mouth on her. Visual after visual of what I have in mind takes over. I bring my mouth to hers and kiss her with the ferocity of an untamed beast. Her mouth is sweet. Like cranberries and vanilla. She kisses me back, weaving her hands into my hair and tugging hard, causing a ripple effect in my dick. I want to fuck her right here in the water. Then I want to fuck her on the sand. Then my bed. Shit, I want to fuck her on my goddamn driveway. All the places my dick wants to be inside her swirl through my head.

But first, I want to taste her pussy. I don’t remove my mouth from hers while I carry her out of the water and up the beach to my house. She’s wild in my arms, her lips against mine, her cunt pressing into me…my dick is about to explode. I can’t wait long enough to get her inside the house so I detour to the lawn chairs. Her back hits the cushion and a tiny squeal expels from her lips. I feel like a mad man unable to get to all of her fast enough. Ripping my mouth away from hers, I suck roughly down her chest to her breasts, pull back the tiny suit barely covering her tits, and bring her perky nipple into my mouth.

Fuck, I want to bite down. I want to bruise her. I want to own her.

I suck hard enough to receive another moan as her hands fly back into my hair. Her eagerness has me on fire. I let her go with a pop and work out the other tit. Once I’m satisfied, I bring my tongue down her stomach, past her navel, to the top of her pubic bone. My fingers fight not to tremble as I pull the string of her bikini bottoms. When they fall to the side, revealing her shaved pussy, I lose it. My mouth covers her, my tongue lapping her hard and fast. Just as expected, she tastes sweet as fuck. Her moans turn me on in a way that borderline scares me.

The things I want to do to her. Take her in every way possible. Her cunt, her ass, her mouth. I’m like a savage, eating her raw, using one finger to thrust inside her. Her hips lift off the chair, pressing her pussy into my face. Something snaps inside me, and I push two fingers in, thrusting harder while my tongue licks her clean. She’s wet and soaking my face, and I can’t get enough. Fuck, I can’t stop. I want to fist her until she breaks. I push in a third finger and bite down on her clit. My cock is hard as stone. Once I actually fuck her, I know I’m not going to last long. Her moans become louder, heated, as her walls begin choking my fingers. She’s going to come soon.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck.” I push harder and faster, unable to keep up with her as she fucks my fingers. I’m tempted to flip her and shove one up her ass. I bet that would be new for her. To watch her squirm… Dammit. I’m losing control. I push one last time, and she explodes. Her grip around my hand contracts as her orgasm blasts through her.

I pull out and crawl up her body, needing my dick inside her immediately. Her hooded eyes are fogged over. I push her legs wider, grab my cock, and place it at her slick pussy, reminding myself to go slow. I use her juices to wet my tip and thrust forward, all constraint gone.

“Fuck,” I groan as her pussy sucks me in. She’s so damn tight. Like perfection. I want to give her a moment to adjust to me, but I can’t. “I’ve gotta move.”

“Thank God. Fuck me.” Her words set me ablaze. I start pounding into her, my balls slapping her ass. She feels amazing. With each thrust, her moans get louder. Her hands move down, gripping my ass, and I growl deep in my throat. “Harder. Fucking harder,” she begs, then brings her mouth to my shoulder and bites me.

And I fucking explode.

The animal living deep inside me erupts, and I lose it. I fuck her with all my strength, shoving her body into the cushion as I pound my dick in and out of her. Her teeth clench harder on my flesh, possibly breaking the skin, and my balls tighten. I don’t want this to end, but this girl has me in a tailspin. I fuck her with haste until I know I’m done for. With one last shove of my dick, I groan and let go, exploding inside her.

“Jesus…” I breathe, rolling off her. My plan was to catch some of the cushion beside her, but she shoves me off, and I fall, smacking my back onto the deck. She’s up and adjusting her bathing suit before I can even lift my bruised head off the ground.

“Where you going?” I ask, confused as she starts walking back to her house.

“Home. Thanks for the fun night, Numbers. See ya around.”

What the fuck?