CHAPTER SEVEN
CHARLIE
When the breathing evened out, and her tired body went limp, I edged my arm out from under her pillow and carefully rolled off the bed to keep from waking her. My evening routine kicked in, grabbing clothes and throwing them on for an easy escape, but her center of gravity kept pulling me back. Ashley looked so... peaceful. I know most people usually looked at ease when they slept, but I've witnessed enough unconscious girls to figure they all looked the same.
Always surprising me, this one. After marathoning two and a half hours of sex and cuddling and more sex and some surprisingly intimate pillow talk and more sex, it was pretty damn evident this was not my usual hookup. Leaving no longer looked appetizing. I wanted to strip down and slide back against her, feel her soft skin against mine, maybe score another quick round before she had to get up for the day. We'd deal with the roommate and the kid — I still hadn't asked about later. I just wanted more time with her. This feeling would soon end and be replaced with a beating frustration, so I wanted to savor it while I could.
It was a terrible idea. I fucking loved terrible ideas.
Instead, I pulled on my boots and hunted down a scrap of paper and a pen from her bedside table. I stared at the blank sheet for what felt like an eternity. Never doing this meant there were no words for me to fall back on. Five minutes must have passed before I finally scribbled out "I need to see you again" and wedged it under her phone.
I felt like an idiot, but one look at her, fresh with memories from our evening under the sheets, and I knew I couldn't crumple it up. I wanted back under her body as soon as possible.
Rudolph was curled up around Whitney in the living room. I tapped his shoulder and pointed towards the door, but he waved me off. Lucky bastard. Not that I'd tell him that.
The memory of Ashley and the scent of her still on my fingers carried me the whole way home. My cock was loud and proud when I pulled into the driveway. Three in the morning and I fucked myself back to heaven while picturing my face between sweet Ashley's legs and her cum on my lips. She tasted amazing, almost as amazing as how quickly her body responded to me. I felt like a goddamn superhero in that bedroom.
Unfortunately, I hadn't jacked off in the car in a while and was ill-prepared to deal with the mess. I grabbed a rag from the glove compartment and came in long, thick ropes all over the place, imagining her perky tits. I didn't get the chance tonight, but I'd kill to cover her in my cum. I wanted her branded, so no one else would touch her again. Those were my tits, my cunt, my ass. Mine.
I collapsed against my seat, newly emptied, and hit a fist to my forehead. What was this forever shit? Ridiculous. I stuffed my cock back in my pants and had a quick, firm conversation with it about how we needed to get our shit together. I left my car in a hurry.
"Do you usually jack off in your car?" Someone called out before I unlocked my front door.
I didn't remember seeing anyone when I pulled in, but it was also a small miracle I made it home without wrecking when all I could see was Ashley's pink cunt spread out before me. A red Honda hung out along the curb and someone sat on the hood in the shadows.
"Do you usually fantasize about eating my dick?" I called back. The guy slid off the car and walked halfway up my driveway. "Holy shit. If it ain't little Bradley. How's the girl, what was her name, Kelsey?"
"Chelsea, you piece of shit." Brad spat, fists balled up before him. "You should remember her name since you fucked her."
"I fuck a lot of people, Bradley. You'll have to be more specific." I spat a fat wad on the ground and picked up a crowbar I kept in a box behind the bush at our front door. I'd have to tell Rudolph his paranoia paid off. He'd like that. Just like I was going to like bashing the fucking face off this guy for coming onto my driveway and trying to start shit.
Like an angel, a vision of Ashley cropped up before me again. If I went to jail for beating the fuck out of a guy, I wouldn't be able to taste her again. And that would be a goddamn shame, no matter what weird shit was spiraling in my brain over it.
I gave the crowbar a twirl and pointed it at him. "I'm going to make this real easy, kid. Get the fuck off of my driveway and get the fuck away from my house. You don't want to mess with me."
"I'm going to kick your ass for touching my girl." Brad didn't look excited about the addition of my little friend here, but he didn't back down just yet. His balls, though they be small, were hanging.
"You mean the chick with tits hanging all over me at work for a week? Your issue is with her, champ, not me. I didn't know she had a guy. Why would a girl who is begging to suck my cock have a boyfriend unless she's terribly unsatisfied?"
"You think you're really fucking cool, don't you?" Brad sneered. He was inching his way up my driveway and the urge to destroy him was roaring back. I tried to picture Ashley's breasts again, the perky way they bounced when I rammed into her from behind. It was a nice thought. "Everyone knows what you are, Vermont, and we're tired of it. Someone's going to do something about it."
That honestly made me laugh. "And that someone is you? Bradley, don’t you think you're a little outmatched here?" I gave the crowbar another good swing. "Not only could I beat you to a pulp with my pinkie, but I can also break your fucking car. Now tuck tail and run, asshat. I'm tired."
"You don't scare me. Everyone knows you can't handle shit because you're so screwed up in the head. That's why you've got a crowbar. You can't even face me like a real man."
Every sweet, naked image dried up and was replaced by a boiling rage and a high ringing in my ears. I charged ahead, and Brad jumped to the side, but he wasn't who I was after. I swung the crowbar and shattered his front passenger headlight.
"What the fuck, man!" Brad cried, his voice shooting up an octave. "You really are fucking crazy!"
I flashed him a wide grin and smashed his other headlight. I lifted the crowbar over my head, ready to chop the fuck out of his windshield. "Now, am I going to fill up your shitty little car with glass, or are you going to get the fuck out of my yard?"
He considered it for a minute too long, so I shot the crowbar up higher. Brad threw his hands up and came running towards the car. "This isn't over, you psycho. You'll get what's coming to you, just you wait."
I lowered the crowbar, disappointed I wasn't about to beat the thing into a metallic mess. "This is a really shitty car, by the way. It's probably just one more reason why Kelsey won't fuck you anymore. You should take care of that."
"Her name is Chelsea!" Brad looked like he wanted to take a hard swing at me. My adrenaline levels skyrocketed and there was nothing I wanted more in the world than for him to try.
I tossed the crowbar into the grass and spread my arms wide. "Fucking try, Bradley. Try to touch me. I dare you."
His hands balled back up into fists just as another car swung into the driveway. Rudolph jumped out, already running before he cleared the door.
"What's going on here?" He was using his disengagement voice. I hated that voice. "It's three in the morning. Why are you even here, man?"
"You know what trash your buddy is." Brad hid behind his driver’s side door, outnumbered. "I came here to talk it out, but this psycho smashed in my headlights."
Rudolph side-eyed me, but pointed back at Brad. "Nobody comes to a man's house at three in the morning for a civil fucking conversation. Get out of here before someone calls the cops, dumbass. And while you're at it, tell your little girlfriend to stop hanging around my house when Vermont's not home. It's reading a little stalkerish."
Brad scowled, his whole face turning deep red, but he got in his car and peeled off, narrowly missing us in the street. The anger left my body in one big breath, and I turned around to pat Rudolph on the back. "Nice timing, asshole. If you hadn't showed up, I was probably going to put him in a body bag."
He frowned at me and went inside, stopping only to pick up the crowbar. "You gotta stop this shit, Vermont."
"He came to my house, remember?"
Rudolph looked over the crowbar before stashing it back in the box. "You know what I'm going to say."
I sobered immediately. "I don't need to go back to therapy, man."
"Then fucking act like it." He shut the door in my face.