Page 159 of Overcast

I tilt my head to the side with a confused look. “Don’t tell me I’m your first. I did ask for someone with plenty of experience.”

Dark brown eyes widen, and she quickly shakes her head. “Oh, no, I do. I just meant what kind of fun did you have in mind?”

“I’m looking to let a little aggression out,” I deadpan. “Long week.”

Actually two drawn-out days of not seeing Stormi at all.

Emmy Lou came over to occupy her and do “girl things”, however, I wanted to do things to her. I ache to let my fingers linger as long as I want on her skin. I crave to sink myself inside her body and kiss her for as long as I desire.

But with how things went down and currently stand, we’re pretty much dead at this point.

Bianca sits on the table in front of me and spreads her legs, giving me a full view of her covered pussy between creamy legs. I force myself to appear interested in what she has to offer. That this is what I’m here for.

“I can help with that.” Her long, hot pink fingernails trail down her flat torso, over her belly button and disappear underneath the fabric of her thong.

I’m so beyond not interested that I’m about to call Bishop in here and do his plan.

“Shall I take the lead?” she asks innocently, slowly performing circles around her clit.

Clenching my jaw, I nod, watching Bianca lean back and prop herself up with one arm.

It’s a perfect opportunity to pull the knife out of my back pocket and slit her throat, then ask questions—if that were possible.

“Stroke yourself,” Bianca promptly orders, using the same gentle tone but with confidence.

Geezus Christ, if Stormi did this to me, I’d be so beyond the two words “fucked up” by the time my hands were down my pants.

Following along with my thought, I unbutton my jeans and reach down to stroke my length, thinking of how sweet and sexy Stormi would look on her knees in front of me. How her small hand would grip and jerk me off while those prominent blues stared up at me, watching me struggle to keep my shit.

Bianca moans before pulling aside the neon green material and exposing her pink and bald pussy. Her obnoxiously bright fingers part her lower lips as she begins to work herself again.

I’m so fucking Stormi when I get home.

“Get in my lap,” I snap, ready to be done with this shit already. The sooner I can get Bianca out of this place, the quicker my ass can go look at the woman I want.

Bianca jumps in my space, straddling both sides like Stormi did the last time I was here. Except now, my cock is limp from the smell of her perfume of some strong ass roses or something floral, and she fits me wrong. I can feel it everywhere.

My Stormi-wannabe doesn’t waste any time, thank God, kissing the side of my face and making her way to the column of my neck where Stormi likes to tease and taunt me. Her lips feel thin and dry, undertaking a role that she’ll never win.

Holding up my cell that’s still in my hand while Bianca does an amateur job of turning me on, I text Bishop left-handed, which is a bitch.

Me: Pull up, we’ll be out there in less than four.

“Fuck,” I fake groan, jerking my limp-noodle cock harder, so she thinks I’m completely into this. “What will it take for you to come home with me?”

Bianca chuckles in my ear then bites down hard on my lobe.

Another testament to my self-control not to toss this woman across the room.

Just her in my lap makes me feel guilty towards the only woman in my life that I’ve felt something for.

Feelings I shouldn’t have. Events that shouldn’t have ever happened. A woman I don’t deserve at all.

“Where do you live?” Bianca whispers, brushing her lips against my ear.

“Not a shithole if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You stupid bitch.

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