Page 175 of The Last Good Man

They get another round of drinks, and my quick retreat goes unnoticed.

Icheck Melody’s seat againas I stride past her table. She’s not back.

People leave the place as new guests pop in while I fiddle with my phone at the bar.

A few more seconds pass before I go straight to the back. I’m so hard ifshe’sstill out there; I’ll pinheragainst the wall and fuckherraw.

I push the back door open and peer outside.

Three garbage bins are overflowing with garbage. That’s where she enjoyed her cigarette.

Classy as fuck.

I suck in a breath and get a whiff of smoke and citrusy perfume, and my fingers tingle at the thought that I can have my hands on her and myhard dick thrusting into her.

She’s driving me crazy.

My gaze dips to the slab of concrete as I see her in my mind, tall on her heels, her insides soft and wet, still recovering from my fingers.

When she came against my fingers, I wanted tocomewith her so badly. She’s not the only glutton for pain. It takes one to recognize one.

I hadn’t planned to finger fuck her again.

I had no plans. I just wanted to feel her softness against my calloused fingers, touchherlips with my lips, and inhalehersmell.

I didn’t even plan to kiss her, but she’s unpredictable as fuck.

I don’t know what happened to her, but something did.

Something unresolved in her made her feel like fire against my mouth.

I wanted to finish her right there, and that’s when my fingers found their way to her panties again.

“Looking for someone?” one of the employees asks, carrying more garbage outside.

“No. I’m fine.”

After that, I let the person walk back in, adjust my bulge, and, frustrated, I head back inside.

32

MELODY

“Are you sure?” Emile asks, looking at me, puzzled.

His frustration simmers beneath the surface as Joanna witnesses our conversation about my migraine, hiding a smug smile behind her glass.

“Yes. I don’t feel well,” I say, looking for my things––actually nothing––in my purse.

I can’t call a cab, so I’ll ask the bartender to do it for me. My place is not far from here, but I can’t trust my legs to take me there right now.

After finishing my cigarette, I returned to the bathroom, spent some time alone, and tried to clear my head.

I knew I needed to come back, say goodbye, and go home.

But Emile doesn’t take the news too lightly, which speaks to how misleading someone’s laid-back demeanor canbe.

You wouldn’t say he has it in him.His bohemian lifestyle, smooth words, and unwillingness to commit must’ve fooled many women.

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