Page 16 of Filthy Little Secret

He hurries to a closet beside the fridge and pulls out a broom and dustpan.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. No, I’ll get it.”

I start to take the broom from him when I hear, “Tim?!”

It’s a woman’s voice.

His mom?

“It’s fine, Nanna. I have a visitor.”

He pulls the broom from my grip and heads back to my mess.

He leans down and pats the water with a towel before sweeping the glass into the dustpan.

I keep apologizing, but he doesn’t respond. I must sound so fucking annoying right now—something I point out one too many times.

He sets the glass-filled dustpan on the counter and puts the broom in the closet. When he comes back out, he carries a shoe box, which he dispenses the glass into before taking it back to the closet. I guess he’ll deal with it later.

“Come on, drunkie,” he says.

He grips my arm and guides me through the house.

I don’t resist as he pulls me through a short hallway, into a bedroom.

This is where it happens. He wants to fuck me with his nanna in the house? God, this guy is a dirty fuck. At this point, though, I’ll do anything to sleep in a bed. I just need to lay down so the room will stop spinning.

With the lights off, the room is only illuminated by an orange glow that spills in through the window onto the wall opposite his door.

An unmade bed is pushed up against the far corner of the room. He closes the door and leads me to the bed, and as I think I’m getting into it, my feet slip out from under me.

It takes me a moment to realize Tim’s lifted me up. Effortlessly.

He lies me across the bed and pulls the covers up over me.

“Is that it?” I ask.

“What?”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

He smirks. “I don’t think that would work out very well right now, do you?”

“I guess not.”

Now I’m kind of upset.

“You don’t want to fuck me anymore?”

He rolls his eyes and crawls over me on the bed.

He lies on the opposite side of me, closest to the window.

I assume he’s ignoring my question because he’s not interested in hooking up with me again, which for some reason, makes me sad.

Considering how hot our past two fucks have been, I figured he would have at least wanted one more roll in the sack.

“Goodnight, Mark.”

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