Page 32 of Overcast

Jane inches closer. “I wanted to know if you were available.” I continue to stare at her, inhaling on my blunt.

I don’t screw little girls; I fuck women.

So, if she wants my dick, she better speak up because I’m not teaching her how to speak her mind.

“To do round four or five.”

I perk a brow and exhale my hit through my nose. “You want to fight me?”

Jane narrows her eyes before catching on to my somewhat teasing.

Told you she was smart with that master’s degree.

She opens her mouth but doesn’t get the chance because something behind me crashes to the floor.

Speaking of people’s intelligence...

I have a feeling that my new lamp just met its demise, and Stormi’s nosey little ears heard Jane’s voice, trying to grasp her attention.

Which she does.

“What was that?” Jane attempts to look around me, but I take up most of the doorway, and...I’m not about to go scoop out the disturbance just yet.

“I’m dog sitting,” I deadpan, through another hit. “Little fucker doesn’t like the kennel, apparently.”

Her face lights up with a pretty smile. “Aw, what kind?”

“A poodle.” A blonde rug-a-muffin who needs a shower and that long walk in the field where you put them out of their misery.

Regaining Jane’s focus, I loom into her space. “Did you come here to make small talk, or was there another kind of activity that you had in mind, Janey?”

If Stormi wants to get Jane’s attention and be a part of our conversation, I’ll let her, but not in the way she’s hoping for.

And the thought of her hearing me fuck Jane in the other room has my cock coming to life.

“I want...” She straightens her spine, her perky tits pushing through the v-neck of her dress. “I want to fuck.”

My lips quirk while my teeth keep my blunt in my mouth. “Fuck?” She gives me one stiff nod. “Well...” I reach for her wrist. “In that case...” Her chest hurls into mine as I remove my weed from my lips and run my fingers through her soft hair.

Locks that aren’t the right shade.

Eyes that aren’t the correct color but are going to have to do. Because I’m not fucking that sister-killer in the next room.

Bishop can take his bright ideas and shove them up his big ass.

Leaning in, I press my mouth to hers. Jane tastes like mint, and the flowery perfume she always wears infiltrates my nostrils.

I pinch my eyelids harder as Jane melts into me, pulling her deeper into my apartment so that I can close the door.

In this moment—she’s all I need to be thinking about.

But even with my eyes closed, I can still feel Stormi yards away from me.

Her sugary voice pierces my ears like a blow horn right into my skull, creating a headache. I’ve never gotten so lost in Jane to where I can curb anything going on in my day to day.

It’s never been mind-blowing.

Granted, it’s not fucking awful because I just invited her in, but...this might be a problem.

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