Page 52 of F*ck It Out With A Devil

“One taste won’t satisfy the growing hunger I have for you, little brat. But since I can’t have you tonight, I’ll have to manage. Won’t be long before I have you underneath me, screaming for me as I take what I need while giving you more in return..” I have to adjust my pants to hide the raging hard-on I’m getting just from thinking about her.

Chapter Eleven

Wyck

Somethingdoesn’tfeelright.I reach my hand out, seeking out my girl’s warm body, but she’s not there.

“Wells, wake up.”

“What?” He grumbles.

“She’s gone.”

“What?” He jumps out of bed in his birthday suit.

“Put some clothes on, and we will go look for her.” I don’t have to tell him twice as he begins moving around the room in search of his clothes.

Next thing I know, we are leaving the room when we run into Karter.

“She’s not here.” He informs us, with a smug look on his face.

“Where is she? What have you done?” I shout, pointing my finger in his face.

“Back up, dude, I should be asking you that, considering she fled after a night with I’m assuming you two.” He says, looking between Wells and I.

“Are you saying we did something to her to make her leave while we slept?”

“Look, I’m not going to stand here and make a fuss about some woman when we have bigger things to worry about, or did you forget we still need to go down to the basement and take care of our little problem.” He arches an eyebrow at me.

“Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?” I mumble, running a hand through my hair.

“You really like her, but don’t let this meddle with your mind. You have to stay focused, we have too much at stake here.”

“You’re right. At least tell me if she got home safely.”

“She did.” He smiles.

“So, you know where she lives? Did she show you her face?” I have to know.

“Dude, you’re doing it again.” He starts. “Go home and change into something more suitable for what we have to go down and do, I’ll get the others. Wells, come with me. Wyck, we’ll meet you there.” I stare at him for a beat longer than I should, then I nod my head at him.

“You still aren’t the boss.” I chuckle, raising my fist up for him to pound.

“And you’re still a dick.” He laughs, pounding it out. “A lovesick dick.” He roars.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Nah, you aren’t my type. Now, that bratty girl of yours is.” He confesses.

“You can’t have her. I only let Wells get a sample, because I felt sorry for him.” At the mention of that, Wells shoots me the finger but still doesn’t say what’s on his mind. “Use your words, Wells.” I tell him.

“Fuck you, Wyck. How is that for using words?” He says, and I’m impressed. Not really, but I’m glad he said it.

“Dude, why don’t you talk more? What is that all about?”

“Why don’t you like to be touched? What is that all about?” He counters.

“Wells, don’t start something you can’t finish.” I growl as he just stares.

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