Chapter One
Abby
MY TITS SWAY BACK AND FORTH, and I thank God I have small ones, or they’d be damn near slapping me in the face. The guy behind me—I can’t remember his name at the moment—grunts his way through pounding into my pussy. His hands dig into my hips and sweat drips onto my back. My walls clench around his hard cock, but it still isn’t enough. I need more. My stomach starts cramping and sweat—not from the sex itself, but from the insistent need for release—forms on my brow.
Fisting the sheets in my hands, I ram my hips back to meet his relentless thrusts. Looking over my shoulder, I growl, “Either fuck me harder or get the hell out so I can find someone to do it for me.”
The hands on my hips tighten, and I know it’ll leave a mark later. I don’t care. I just need this guy to get the job done before the pain takes over.
“Fuck, babe,” he groans. “I fuck you any harder, I’ll plow you into the mattress.”
“Just do it,” I hiss.
“Jesus,” he grunts, but does as he’s told and slams his hip bones into my ass as he pumps into me forcefully.
I straighten my arms when his thrusts push my body forward. A blissful sigh leaves my lips, followed by a low moan when he finally hits the spot I need him to. My fingers start to tingle from lack of circulation, so I unwrap them from the sheet. My body starts to quiver with the first ripple of my orgasm. I close my eyes, and tiny sparks of light shoot behind my lids as the cramps in my stomach turn to flutters of delight. I lower my arms and lay my head against the cool sheets as immense pleasure takes over my body. The guy behind me still pounds away, jerking my hips back to him. I pay him no mind, content to just lay here and let him have at it. I got what I needed from him, it’s only fair that he reaches his peak as well.
Several minutes’ pass before he grunts and stiffens behind me. He releases my hips, and I immediately drop to the bed. He falls down beside me with his arm thrown over his eyes, breathing heavily. Now that my brain is functioning properly again, his name comes back to me in a flash.
Matt.
Matt was my lifesaver for the night.
As appreciative as I am of him, I really need him to go now; I don’t like it when they linger. I may need sex from men on a daily basis to keep my sanity, but I don’t let them stay afterwards. I don’t do relationships. I know I’m a bitch—using men for sex and discarding them—but I have a damn good reason.
I roll to my side and get out of bed. I bend with my ass facing Matt to pick up his clothes to toss at him. I lost my modesty a long time ago, and if it wasn’t for my job, or the fact I would get arrested for indecent exposure, I’d never wear clothes. It would make things so much easier when the need took hold. During the day I’m fine, but by the time evening rolls around, the urge grips me tight and leaves me in a near panicked state. I came so close to having an anxiety attack tonight. I thought I would have to call my friend, Nathan, to come rescue me. Luckily, Matt showed up and caught my eye at the perfect time.
And here we are now, an hour later, with him still lying on my bed, and me standing with my hands on my hips, glaring at him. He didn’t take the hint when his clothes landed on his stomach, so it looks like I’m going to have to be blunter.
I reach out with a foot and nudge his leg. “Hey, it’s time to go.”
His arm moves, showing off sleepy, plain brown eyes. “Can’t you give a guy a minute to recover?” he mutters.
“No. I need you to leave right now,” I tell him. I spy my panties on the floor and pick them up to slip up my hips.
I’m exhausted, and want nothing more than to sleep. A niggle of guilt tries to worm its way in with how I’m treating this guy, but I push it back. I’ve learned the hard way over the years that in order to keep my inner emotions intact, I’d have to build a steel wall around myself. I hate being a bitch, but it’s the only way to protect myself. Only a handful of people know the real me.
Matt grumbles as he drags himself from the bed. I ignore him and pull on a cami, sans bra. Using the hair tie from my wrist, I pull my thick blonde hair up into a ponytail as I wait for him to finish. I tap my fingers on the doorframe I’m leaning against, while he sits on my bed and pulls on his shoes. It’s normally the guys that are hell-bent on leaving as soon as they get done, but not this guy. He’s taking his sweet time, and it’s grating on my nerves.
He finally stands and makes his way over to me. I’m just about to turn around and lead him to the door when he boxes me in by planting his hands on the doorframe on either side of me. I inwardly cringe when he leans down, and the smell of whiskey on his breath assaults me. My head hits the door when I lean back to get away from him.
“How about we do this again sometime, sugar?” he drawls, leaning down to rub his lips against mine. They end up on my cheek when I turn my head.
I put my hands on his chest and give him a shove. “I don’t think so.”
“You sure?” he asks, not getting the hint.
“Yep.” I slip under his arm and walk down the hallway. “The door is this way,” I throw over my shoulder, and see he’s following.
Thank goodness.
Opening the door, I stand and wait for him to catch up. Right before he walks through the threshold, he reaches out, snags me around the waist and slams me against his chest. His lips land on mine before I get a chance to turn my head this time. Even though I seal my lips tight, bile rises in my throat. One thing I always avoid with the men I sleep with is kissing. It’s too personal, and intimate.
Right as I’m about to bite his damn lip and knee his balls up to his throat, he pulls back and murmurs, “Your loss,” and then he’s gone. I slam the door behind him and blow out a breath, relieved to finally be alone.
Fuck my life. Sometimes, I really detest my addiction, while other times, I fucking love it.
***
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR THE NEXT day pulls me from sleep. Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I note that it’s almost noon. I also notice I have a missed call and text from Ava, one of my best friends.
Ava: Get your ass up.
It’s Saturday. I always sleep in on Saturday. Ava knows this. She also knows I get cranky if I’m woken prematurely.
I pull my pillow over my head when I hear the knock again. I know she won’t go away, but my ass isn’t getting out of this bed to answer the door, either. If it’s important enough, she has her own key and will use it.
Minutes later, my bed dips and the pillow is yanked from my hands. I glare at Ava with an I’m-going-to-kill-you look. Of course she ignores it, just like every other time I give her my best evil glare, and proceeds to snatch the cover off my near naked body. I showered after Matt left last night, and only put on a pair of panties before falling into bed. Ava doesn’t bat an eyelash at my bare tits, and I don’t bother to cover them. She’s seen them before, and I’m sure she’ll see them again.
Ava and I met several years ago in a bar, when some guy was trying to pick her up and wouldn’t take the hint that she wasn’t interested. She was blunt with the guy, but he was relentless. I could sense the anger rolling off her, and wanting to keep her from blowing up on him, I interrupted their conversation by planting an open mouth kiss on her, right there in front of him. I’m not gay. I’m not even bisexual, although, I’ve had a few experiences with the same sex, but even that kiss had my body turning hot. It was just a ploy to help her out, but I think it went on a bit longer than I’d intended.
By the time we pulled back from each other, we were both breathing heavy. The guy was gone, which was my goal. I introduced myself, as did Ava, and we hit it off from there. We’ve been best friends ever since. We’ve both been a part of a few threesomes together, the two of us with a guy, but nothing else has ever happened between us. I don’t want it to, and neither does she. But we’re completely fine with seeing each other’s naked bodies. That’s just how we are.
“Get your ass out of bed and get dressed. We’re meeting Nathan and Tegan in thirty minutes.” She walks to my dresser and rummages through my underwear drawer, throwing me a bra and shirt.
“Did you at least bring coffee, since you so rudely woke me up before my alarm went off?” I grumble, slipping the bra up my arms and snapping the back clasp. “And why are we meeting Nathan and Tegan?”
“No particular reason,” she says. Walking into my closet next, she tosses me a pair of jeans. “It’s been a while since we’ve all had lunch together.”
“Coffee. You never answered my question about coffee. I’m going back to bed if you didn’t bring any.” I’m serious. If she didn’t bring coffee, then she can carry her ass out of my apartment and leave me to go back to sleep.
“On the counter, in the kitchen. Now stop piddly-dicking around and get dressed.”
Still in my bra and panties, I flip her off as I walk to the bathroom to relieve my bladder, wash my face, and brush my teeth. I laugh at her shouted, “You wish, bitch.”
When I step back into my bedroom, Ava is reclining against my headboard with my phone in her hands, plundering through my shit. Sometimes, it’s great having a best friend, but other times, like right now, I miss my privacy, and when you have a friend like Ava, you don’t have any.
I walk over and snatch the device from her hands. “Do you mind? What if I had dirty selfie pictures on there?”
She shrugs, then gives me a cheeky grin. “You do have dirty selfie pictures on there. I just saw one, and let me just say, hot damn, girl!”
Rolling my eyes, I pull on my shirt and pants before slipping on a pair of black Keds.
“You know we’re meeting Nathan and Tegan at Blackie’s tonight, right? We couldn’t just wait until then?”
“Nope,” she says cheerily, now going through my nightstand drawer. It’s not like I have a drawer filled with sex toys, but I do have one filled with boxes upon boxes of condoms. Due to my addiction, I always need to be prepared. I never have sex without one.
“Small?” Ava wrinkles her nose as she holds up a box that does indeed have the size as small.
“What? I can never be too careful. I’d rather have them and not need them, than not have them at all. The last thing I need is to bring a guy here and the condom be too big.”
“That’s why you check out the package before you ask him to deliver,” she retorts.
“You know there are times that I can’t do that.”
Ava knows of my addiction; we’re as close as two friends can possibly be. She’s seen me at my worst, when the tremors and sickness take hold. She understands, and doesn’t judge me. That’s part of the reason why I love her so much.
“True,” she mutters, looking at me with sympathy, and a hint of mirth. “Poor, poor, Abby.”
I grab the brush from my dresser and chuck it at her. She catches it and laughs.
“Bitch,” I huff. Walking out of the bedroom, I head straight for the kitchen, where my coffee is sitting on the counter. Pulling the tab away, I take a sip, nearly scolding my throat.
“Let’s go, before the guys get their panties in a twist,” Ava says, handing me my purse and grabbing her own coffee.
Twenty minutes later, we walk through the door of Suzie’s. It’s a small place that me, Ava, Nathan, and Tegan frequent often. We’re an odd group, to say the least, each of us having our own sexual addictions. The professionals have labeled our addictions as hypersexual disorders. Me, Nathan, and Tegan met during a sexual addiction’s support group, and decided to branch out on our own, feeling the group was a waste of time. Mine is sex in general. If I don’t have it at least once a day, I literally go through withdrawals, like a drug addict would. I get the shakes, stomach cramps, irritability, headache, and panic attacks. I used to try to curb my appetite by withdrawing from everyone and everything, scared the need would come when I couldn’t appease it, and the ridicule I would get. Now, I don’t give a fuck. If you don’t like me, faults and all, then you can fuck off.
Nathan’s addiction, or as some people call it ‘perversion’ is voyeurism. He gets off on watching people perform sexual acts. It doesn’t have to be sex itself, just some type of sexual behavior. I’ve caught him many times, jacking off in his apartment with one hand, while holding a pair of high-powered binoculars with the other. There’s one particular apartment across from his he likes to watch, but unfortunately for him, the woman is rarely home, so he’s forced to watch others, or get his kicks in other ways.
Tegan’s weakness is exhibitionism, preferring others to watch him. He can be alone or with a partner, as long as someone’s there to witness it, whether the person be male or female. The times that he can’t find a live person to watch, he has a webcam that he uses with exhibitionist groups online. He and Nathan have shared multiple partners before. It works out perfectly for them, because Tegan gets the satisfaction of Nathan watching, and Nathan gets off watching Tegan and the woman. From what Ava has said, she thinks Nathan and Tegan may have even had sex with each other before, during one of their threesomes. I haven’t asked. It doesn’t matter to me, and if they wanted me to know, they would have told me.
Ava’s story is a bit different. Although her and I met under much different circumstances, I found out quickly that her thing was role-playing. She likes being in situations that aren’t traditional, such as playing the victim, being dominated, playing doctor, or boss-employee shit. Anything that’s not your typical sexual experience.
Because of our “disorders,” none of us form attachments to the people we have sex with. The only reason we have with each other is because we all share some form of fucked-up need.
Me and Ava walk over to the booth that Nathan and Tegan are sitting in. I slide in beside Nathan, as Ava takes a seat next to Tegan. Nathan drapes his arm around the back of the booth over my shoulders. I look over at Tegan and grin, seeing the Aviators he’s never without, resting on the top of his head.
“Hey, Abs. How did last night go?” Nathan asks, looking down at me.
Before I get a chance to answer, a waitress I’ve never seen here before, walks up and takes mine and Ava’s drink order, giving both Nathan and Tegan a once-over. Tegan gives her a flirty grin, then watches her ass sway as she walks away.
“It was good. Close call, but I finally found someone,” I assure him.
I texted Nathan last night, letting him know I would probably need him. They all know what I go through if I don’t meet my sex quota. There’s been several times I’ve had to call on Nathan and Tegan to help me out. They always come through for me, not wanting me to suffer. A couple times, I’ve had them both at the same time, but I prefer Nathan since he’s more my type. His body is stacked with muscles, he has several tattoos, and he sports a very sexy beard and mustache, just long enough to feel good against your skin. He’s quiet and watchful, sometimes appearing creepy to others, but will kick anyone’s ass that messes with his family and friends. Tegan is the friendly, fun-loving guy that can be loud and obnoxious. I love him, but sometimes, he can be a bit too much.
Fortunately for me, they’re both capable of having sex in ways other than their normal addictions. Ava, on the other hand, can’t or won’t, I’m not sure which. The few times we’ve been involved with the same guy, we did role-play. The last time it was a wife, played by Ava, who caught her husband, a doctor, having sex with one of his nurses, played by me. It was weird in the beginning, but I soon forgot about any awkwardness when the guy started eating me out.
Some people may find our arrangement absurd, but it works for us. We’re all happy with the way things are. We’re there for each other in tough situations, because we all know the consequences if our needs aren’t met.
“Good,” Nathan murmurs beside me, before leaning down and kissing the top of my head.
The waitress brings our drinks and takes our lunch order. My lips twitch as I watch Tegan flirt with her. The guy could charm the panties off a nun.
“What are you doing later tonight, sweetheart?” Tegan uses his sexy voice, which never fails to work on females. He trails a finger up the outside of the waitress’s leg. Her eyes glaze over, and I have no doubt that if he were to reach beneath her skirt, he’d find her wet. I witness this shit all the time, and it amazes me how easy it is for him to pick up girls.
Lisa—according to her name tag—gives him a sultry look and replies, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing tonight? I get off at nine.”
When Ava snickers beside Tegan, the waitress looks over and gives her a dirty look. I kick Ava’s foot from under the table when she opens her mouth to tell the waitress to fuck off. We certainly don’t need Ava’s big mouth getting us kicked out of here. Although, I kind of want to slap the bitch myself. I may be a hard-ass, but Ava is ten times worse.
Either Tegan doesn’t sense the firecracker that is barely holding onto her leash sitting beside him, or he doesn’t care. He just continues with his pursuit of Lisa.
“How about I pick you up and take you to Blackie’s? Ever heard of the place?”
I have to force back my laugh when Lisa’s eyes widen. Blackie’s isn’t your normal hangout spot. With the stuff that goes on there, the place would be shut down if the owner, Mr. Black, didn’t have half the town in his back pocket. We’ve been going there for five years, and have done some pretty kinky shit there. There have been plenty of times I’ve been desperate for my fix, even taking guys in the back corner. If you go there, you know to keep your trap shut about the stuff you see. If you talk, your ass is booted and put on a blacklist. What happens at Blackie’s, stays at Blackie’s. And not just anyone can get in. You have to know someone in good standing with the club.
“Oh, wow!” Lisa breathes, swooning at the invite to the exclusive club. “You go to Blackie’s?”
“Sure do, sweetheart.” Tegan gives her a wink. “We all do.”
She glances around the table at each of us. She even looks at Ava with a newfound respect. It’s ridiculous what being part of the club can do for a person’s image.
She brings her eyes back to Tegan. “Yes!” she practically shouts, then clears her throat, trying her best to look cool. “I’d love to go with you.”
I swear I see stars in the girl’s eyes. Tegan doesn’t seem to care that she’ll be using him, just to get her foot in the door to Blackie’s. All he cares about is scoring his pussy for the night. Now, all he has to do is find someone to watch him perform. I have no doubt he’ll seal the deal with someone before the end of the night. But, if not, he can always get Nathan to do it. I glance over at Nathan and see his eyes lit with interest as he looks at Tegan and Lisa. Maybe Tegan won’t have to look for someone after all.
Tegan gets Lisa’s number and makes plans to pick her up after her shift. She bounces away, happy as can be, like she’s won the fucking lottery.
As soon as she’s gone, Ava slams her fist against his shoulder. “You couldn’t pick someone less… I don’t know… sleazy?”
Tegan shrugs, one corner of his mouth tipping up into a smirk. “Nope. Maybe I like them sleazy. Besides, less work for me to do later. I’ve slept with practically every girl at Blackie’s, so I need to branch out.”
“You fuckwit. We have to hang out with her too if she’s with you. Next time, pick someone that’s not going to have me gritting my teeth all night to keep from mouthing off at her. Did you see the look she gave me?”
He ruffles her hair, something he likes doing because he knows she hates it. She growls and shoves his hand away. “Come on, Ava. You can put up with her for a couple hours.” He bats his ridiculously long eyelashes and pleads with her in his most persuasive, sexy voice. “Play nice for me, please?”
“Whatever,” she mutters. “Just keep her as far away from me as possible.”
Leaning down, he kisses her cheek. “You’re the best, A.”
“Don’t you forget it, either,” she says playfully, a smile tugging at her lips.
“If you need someone tonight, hit me up,” Nathan pipes in.
Tegan looks at Nathan. Seeing the interest in his eyes, he winks. “You got it.”
Yeah, Tegan and Nathan will definitely be sharing tonight.
An hour later, we finish our meal and wait around for Tegan to pay the bill, flirting with Lisa in the process. Me, Ava, and Nathan make plans to meet at my place while Tegan picks Lisa up, so we can all head to Blackie’s together. After, we’ll split ways. In the meantime, I head home to do tedious chores that I always neglect during the week.
A pinch of pain starts in my lower stomach, but I push it away. Weekends are always the hardest for me since I’m not in a place where I know my needs have to be dormant. The pain will get worse throughout the day. The sweats will start soon, and so will the shakes. I can manage them for a few hours, but I know by the time we pull up to Blackie’s, the incessant cramps and uncontrollable desires will take hold until I find my willing partner for the night. I still feel dirty, having sex with a new guy every night, but I force myself to get over it. It’s not like I have any control over my addiction anyway. I’ve tried so damn hard to control it, but the pain becomes unbearable. So I’ve given up, taking it one day at a time, not caring anymore what people think.
I don’t know if I’ll always be like this. I mean, what the hell happens when I’m old and gray, and can’t get dick anymore? All I can do is pray that my sex drive will decrease to nothing, finally setting me free. Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a normal life for once.
However, as I walk through my apartment and feel the cramps getting stronger, I know that day will be a long time coming.
***
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, ME, Ava, Nathan, Tegan, and Tegan’s slutty bitch are sitting at our usual table at Blackie’s. I feel the tension radiating off Ava, who’s sitting beside me, and I have to give it to her. She’s held her tongue a lot longer than I thought she would. One thing me and Ava can’t stand is for a woman to take advantage of the two guys in our group; we’re all protective of each other. I recognize the fact that Tegan knows what’s going on, that Lisa is taking advantage of him and what he can give her. Ava, on the other hand, has trouble reining in her temper at times. I have control over my bitchy side, whereas Ava doesn’t, or rather, she chooses not to rein it in.
I know she’s about to lose it, so to help Tegan out, I pull her from her seat and tug her with me to the bar.
“Come help me order more drinks.”
Ava shoots Lisa a hate-filled glare before reluctantly getting up. I have to yank her even harder when Lisa returns the look.
“I swear to God, if I have to watch that skank eye-fuck another guy while sitting in Tegan’s lap, practically humping his dick, I’m going to yank her fucking hair out and shove it down her throat,” Ava growls, stomping after me.
“Just leave it, Ava. You know Tegan’s not stupid, and he knows what she’s doing. You think he really cares? He’s only after one thing from her, just as she is him.”
“Still pisses me off. He always picks the worst fucking cunts.”
“It’s his choice.” I defend him, even if I do agree with her. I’ve never understood how Tegan, a guy that is so relaxed, sweet, and carefree, always picks such women.
We make it to the crowded bar and slide in beside two guys that are grumbling over the football game that’s on the screen behind the bar. When they see us step up beside them, they both stop talking and turn their attention to us. I eye them both, looking to see if one of them could be my potential lover for the night, and mentally shout a big no in my head. It’s not that I’m overly picky—I can’t be when I go through so many men—but I have my limits, and those limits consist of no one that smells like they haven’t showered in a week. My eyes flick to the other guy. No one that’s so drunk, his beard is soaked with what I hope is beer, is also a no-no.
One of the guys opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Ava throws up her hand in his face and says “Not interested” without even looking at him.
I choke back my laughter as the guy looks between us both and mutters “Bitch” before turning back to his friend.
“You really are a cunt sometimes,” I tell her as we wait on the bartender, who’s just acknowledged us.
“No, being a cunt would be letting him think even for a second he had a chance. I prefer to stop it before it gets that far. Makes it less messy.”
Her logic is true, even if it still makes her a cunt.
I take a seat on one of the stools as we wait. My hands fidget in my lap, and I wince when a sharp pain enters my side. I blow out a slow breath and breathe through the pain, trying to push it back.
So far, I haven’t had any luck finding a guy. We’ve only been here an hour, but it feels more like three. I’ve come across quite a few guys I’ve had before, but I prefer not to use them again. When you sleep with a guy more than once, you take the chance of either him or you forming an attachment—no matter how much you don’t want to—and that’s one thing I refuse to do. However, it’s looking like I may have to tonight. I could ask Nathan to help me out, but his eyes have been on Lisa and Tegan, and I don’t want to pull him away from something he obviously wants. I’ll just have to make sure it’s someone I haven’t slept with in a long time.
When the bartender brings our drinks, I snatch mine up and take a big swallow. I like my drinks strong, so it burns when it hits my throat. I welcome the burn, hoping it’ll distract me from the pain that’s steadily getting worse in my stomach. But it’s a wasted effort, because it never works. Nothing does, except sex.
I put the glass down on the bar when my hand starts to shake so badly, the ice clinks against the side of the glass.
“Holy hell,” Ava says from beside me. “Now that man right there, I’d definitely let fuck me five ways to Sunday. And to Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.”
Intrigued, because it’s not often Ava shows that much interest in a man, I turn in my seat to face the dance floor. It takes me a minute to zero in on who she’s referring to, but once I do, I know for a fact that it’s the one I’m looking at.
He’s got to be at least six foot five, as he towers over everyone around him. Even through his dress shirt and black suit jacket, I can tell he’s well-built, with muscles stacked on top of each other. His dark brown hair is just long enough to run your fingers through, and you can tell he shaves every day, but is now sporting what I would call a nine o’clock in the evening shadow.
My body starts to tingle with awareness, wanting to gravitate to the stranger and have him take me. My panties become wet and an ache forms between my legs. I shift in my seat, knowing this is the man I want.
I look down at the redhead that’s standing in front of him with a scowl on her face, and feel an irrational need to claw her eyes out and demand he’s already taken. He’s looking down at her, his jaw hard with his temple throbbing. He has his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed, but from the rigid way his body is standing, you can tell he’s anything but.
She says something to him and turns to walk away, but he grabs her by the arm, keeping her in place. I watch as she says something else to him, gesturing with her other hand around her. He looks around briefly, with an unconcealed nasty sneer overtaking his face, before looking back at her. I know that look well, and it pisses me off. His look says he’s disgusted with what’s going on here.
I turn in my seat, having seen enough. That look alone has my stomach souring. I hate people like him, the ones that think they are better than others. The ones that think just because it may be something they aren’t into, then it’s wrong and disgusting. The judgmental assholes of the world. The ones that would look at me with revulsion and label me as a freak.
“He looks like an asshole to me,” I tell Ava, finishing off my drink and ordering another.
“But a fucking delicious looking asshole,” she says, still facing the dance floor. “I bet I could tame that asshole right out of him.”
I have no doubt she could, but I have no desire to know about it.
Sighing wistfully, Ava grabs her drink and tells me she’s going back to our table. I glance over and am glad when I don’t see Tegan and Lisa at our table. That means I don’t need to run interference for a bit.
I sit and fiddle with the edge of the napkin my drink is sitting on, suddenly in a very pissy mood. It does nothing to help the mounting pain in my stomach, nor the headache I feel coming on. I should be up, looking for a partner, but I’m so fucking tired. So tired of the same old shit every night.
Luckily, a few minutes later, a random guy that doesn’t smell, and clearly knows how to keep his drink in his glass, slides up next to me, grabbing my attention, and making my night a little bit easier. He seems to be nice enough, and doesn’t come off as desperate, something I can’t stand.
I lean over and rest my hand on his upper thigh, my fingers briefly grazing his cock. His eyes drop to my hand, then up to me. They instantly fill with lust, which ignites my body and the cramps intensify. I get up from my stool and grab his hand, ready to drag him from the club and have him satisfy my insatiable need.
A prickle of awareness rushes down my spine and I glance over, just as the bastard that was talking to the redhead looks my way as he heads toward the door. My breath catches as his eyes run up my bare legs to the short skirt I’m wearing. They continue to roam over the small glimpse of stomach I have exposed, to my breasts, and up to my face. The blatant desire I see there has my nipples tightening and my pussy clenching. I nearly stumble until his eyes move to the guy standing beside me, running his hand over my hip as he nibbles on my neck. The sneer is back on his face when he brings his eyes back to me, effectively washing away the desire I felt for him only seconds ago. It’s better than throwing a bucket of ice cold water on me.
I bare my teeth and flip him off. Strengthening my grip on the guy’s hand, I pull him behind me as I lead us to our table to tell the other’s good-bye. I want this night over and done with.
Available