I was furious. The moment he left the apartment, I wished I’d scratched his eyes out. Fucking prick.

As soon as I thought we had something, as soon as he lured me into this fucking false sense of safety, he knocked my confidence over again. And I fell like a line of dominoes. I hated him for it.

I couldn’t even move for what felt like hours. I stood in the living room, glued to the fucking spot with my knees weak and my legs shaky.

My phone buzzed with a message and I looked down in a daze. It was from Maria, asking me how it went. My little prank seemed so far away, and so insignificant.

I felt anger then, blinding, white-hot anger, surge through my body. And I let it, because I was going to fucking need it if I was going to do this.

I attempted to walk to the door but nearly toppled over. The heels I was wearing were too high, and I was too fucking nervous. I badly wanted a drink, but at the same time I knew it would only make things worse.

It wasn’t even dark outside, and the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows just made me feel more nervous and awkward.

But I had to do it.

If King thought he could push me around like that, I’d have to prove him wrong.

I was pretty sure he thought I wouldn’t go through with it. That he’d only done it so he could come home that night with every intent of punishing me for my disobedience.

But I’d be damned if I’d let him.

I took a deep breath, feeling nauseous. And then I walked out of that apartment, locked it behind me, and rode the elevator to the bottom floor. I stared at the numbers in the elevator, going down down down. My heart felt heavy, but my pussy was really fucking wet. I hated myself for it.

I ignored the doorman, or maybe he ignored me. Neither of us said a word as I walked past him in that ridiculous get-up, my heels clacking on the marble floor.

It was sunny outside, but clouds littered the sky and it was a small consolation, fuck knows why.

I stood on the street with my eyes trained on the floor. All I had with me were the keys to the apartment. I’d never felt more naked in my life.

I knew I was in an upscale part of town. There weren’t going to be any sketchy characters around these parts, which could be either good or bad.

At least no one would wolf-whistle or try to hurt me.

But it also meant it would be much, much harder finding someone on the street when it was filled with businessmen in expensive suits and yummy mommies with buggies that cost more than the rent at my old apartment.

I raised my eyes.

There were a few people walking down the block and none of them seemed to notice me. Not yet, anyway.

I scoped out everyone.

A woman with her hair pinned up intricately, and a briefcase in her hand. Her pencil skirt was too tight for her curvy body and her blouse strained against her generous chest. She looked at me distractedly, and her eyes widened. I stared her down, because I didn’t have a choice. If I backed down now, I would go back to the apartment with my tail between my legs.

She stared and I stared back for what felt like ages. I stood in front of King’s apartment building and she walked down the street, her eyes on mine. Finally, she bowed her head and kept walking as if she hadn’t seen a fucking thing. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

I looked around some more.

There were a few businessmen on the corner, three of them, engaged in an intense conversation. All of them handsome and older. One stood out. His hair was graying, his jaw chiseled. He was very handsome.

I started walking, reminding myself silently how to do it. One foot before the other, careful, careful. Heels clacking on the floor, the jacket just short enough to show off my belt.

I felt their eyes on me, all of them. But I focused my gaze on the guy I liked until I was nearly next to him.

He was still talking, but seemed to notice his friends had stopped paying attention. He finally stopped mid-sentence and looked in my direction, and his jaw fell.

He stared at me. Not at my body, not my legs, or my cleavage or my heels. He just stared at my face, and I stared back.

I was almost next to him. I could’ve reached out and touched the lapel of his blazer. Time felt like it had frozen.

They were all staring. Their eyes hot, their dicks probably twitching.

I stared at the man and he stared at me. He reached up for his tie and tugged at it like it was suffocating him.

I felt my pussy dripping down my legs, and I didn’t give a fuck if anyone noticed.

I was almost next to him. Almost close enough to touch him. So close I could smell his cologne. It reminded me of something my counselor wore in high school.

I walked past him.

I felt almost sick as I passed their group, none of the men saying a fucking word as I kept walking like nothing had happened. I felt their eyes on me. Stripping me.

For a second I thought I would really just bend over and throw up the apple I’d had earlier.

But I made myself keep walking.

I crossed the street and kept walking. Always walking.

Just a little bit longer.

My breathing was so labored I didn’t know how I didn’t pass out.

People kept walking past me. Women, men. Pretty girls, overweight women. Drivers in uniforms, men in a rush. Nannies with screaming children, guys in suits so expensive I’d be afraid to brush my fingers against the fabric.

All of them stared at me. I could feel their eyes drinking me in. The women, the men, the children. Almost stunned when they saw me. Some of them stopping in their tracks, others blushing and pretending they hadn’t seen a thing. I just kept on walking, because I knew if I stopped, I’d never be able to keep going. I’d just collapse on the spot and have to wait for someone to help me.

My heart pounded as I reached another block.

Someone’s hand wrapped around my forearm and I looked up, startled.

A man.

Uniform.

Driver.

I swallowed hard.

He had gray eyes and blonde hair. There was a small nick on his jaw from when he’d cut himself shaving.

“You okay there, miss?” he asked me. His voice was heavy with lust.

I shook my head no and his hand moved down my arm. I could feel the butterflies; in my pussy this time.

“Jenner, let’s get fucking going.”

“In a second, sir,” he replied and kept staring at me.

I parted my lips and gave him a needy look and he groaned, reaching up to my face.

I tore myself out of his arms and ran down the block.

I stopped in a side alley.

Not even that was trashy, not in this part of town.

I felt like I was going to pass out. My palms touched the brick wall of the building behind me and I slid down until my ass was resting on my ridiculous heels.

My heart pounded with a rhythm of some song I used to know. I stared at the floor and tried to get to my senses.

I must’ve been out for ages. I didn’t have a watch, but it felt like hours. I’d walked around aimlessly for so long. But I’d been walking in circles. I was nearly back to King’s apartment building.

The sky was a darker shade of gray now.

My time was running out.

I didn’t want him to win.

I couldn’t let him do that.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

I picked myself up again, not knowing how when I felt so broken. My legs barely worked, but they managed to carry me back to the main street. I kept my eyes down. On the pavement. On my shoes.

Step after step after step I headed back to the apartment building. I still felt their eyes on me. Still felt them looking.

I needed a fucking miracle.

I needed to cross the street.

I looked up and crossed it.

Someone blew their horn at me and I stopped in my tracks, right in the middle of the road. I felt like a deer in headlights, frozen, completely frozen.

Curses, screams. Someone pulling me out of the way, screaming their head off at me.

I’d never felt more terrified.

A couple. The woman was frantic, screaming at the man to make sure I was okay. She was holding a baby in her arms.

I looked at the guy. He was holding my arm, but he seemed mesmerized despite his woman screaming at him to do something, to make sure I was okay.

He stared into my eyes and I breathed in short, panicked breaths.

“She’s fine,” he told the woman. His voice was heavily accented and deep.

I could fuck him.

I would fuck him.

I had to.

“You…” I whispered, and his pupils dilated even more.

The woman kept chattering and he stared at me like I was a fucking Happy Meal.

“I…”

“Do you need help?” he asked me, and I swallowed so hard it hurt my throat. His eyes zeroed in on my neck and he watched me swallow again. His free hand was in a fist.

“Jason, I need to feed her,” the woman said, cradling the screaming baby. But her man didn’t move an inch. She gave us an incredulous look and smacked his shoulder. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I giggled.

And then I laughed.

And then I left.

This was too fucking hard. I would never be able to find someone, fucking never.

I walked the short distance to the other side of the road, my eyes dancing over the people on the street.

I had to do it, I fucking had to.

In the end, it was so simple.

I looked over to the townhouses on the other side of the street. Pretty brick houses with well-groomed plants lining the steps that led up to the front doors.

He was sitting on the steps. He looked as out of place as I felt.

It wasn’t that warm, not really.

Not warm enough for the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. His arms were bulging with muscles. Tattooed muscles.

The jeans he had on were ripped to shreds. His wore black leather boots and his hair was messy and a few inches too long. Dark brown, like his eyes. He wasn’t shaved. His beard was almost at the point where it looked unruly, but still groomed enough to make me think he had it on purpose.

He rubbed his palms together, looking across the street. His eyebrows were knitted together. It looked like he was waiting for someone.

He was closer to my age than King’s.

There was something weird about him, something off. He looked like a ticking time bomb.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

He looked across the street again, his motions frantic and fast.

He saw me, and he didn’t look at my face for long.

His eyes drank me in, from the shoes, to the stockings, up my legs, lingering between them. Over my jacket, licking his lips as he stared at my chest. Over my neck, up, up and up and to my lips, to my flushing cheeks, to my needy eyes.

He didn’t stare for long, it seemed like he made a decision in seconds. Impulsive.

He got up, well, jumped up from the steps really. He looked angry. Still frowning. He didn’t look at me again. Just crossed the road and reached me in what felt like a heartbeat.

Once he came up to me, he still wouldn’t look at me. He stood next to me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Our hips touched so very slightly I could have imagined it if it wasn’t for the bolt of electricity that shot up my spine.

He still wouldn’t look at me as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, put one in his mouth and lit it.

He took a long drag. His fingers twitched when he put the packet back in his pocket, took the cigarette out of his mouth and sighed.

I knew I was staring but I couldn’t fucking help it.

He tapped the cigarette and offered it to me without giving me a single look.

My fingers shook as I took it from his and took a drag. It was fucking disgusting, and I had to fight myself from choking.

I gave it back to him, and he finally looked at me. Tits first, and then my eyes.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was rough as hell, probably from the smoking. Rough and deep.

I looked up at him. He was frowning still, not touching me. I knew he would be, though, in just a few minutes.

“Hey, stranger,” I whispered and he licked his lips.