Page 17 of The Worst Guy Ever
Fuck!
Me:Well I didn’t consent to pictures of your tits either
Hottie:And yet with one photo you’re begging me to get into your bed
Hottie:Told you you’d beg for me before I ever begged for you
Argh, she’s impossible. I don’t get it. I’ve never had to work this hard for it. She’s hot. I’m hot. We’d have a good time, why won’t she just give in?
As the end of the month approaches, I’m absolutely desperate, having built up a healthy bank of fantasies involving Hattie. Things I want to do with her, places I want to fuck her.
Last night I went for a few beers with the lads from football, and got chatting to a woman and her friends. She made it clear she wanted to go home with me, but I shocked myself by saying no. I’m sure we’d have had a good time, but all I wanted was Hattie on her knees. Even talking to another woman felt cruel.
Now I’m trying to watch some new crime documentary everyone’s raving about, but I’ve spent the whole time checking my phone, re-reading her messages. Couldn’t tell you a single thing this detective has said. Texting her clearly isn’t working. I need to ramp things up, so I mute the TV and tap her number.
It rings and rings. My knee jiggles, eagerness tipping into a sticky feeling of desperation, and I’m about to hang up when the call connects.
“Yeah?” she pants, sending a jolt of electricity to my dick. What witchcraft does she possess that has this effect on me with just one word? “What do you want?”
“You’re naked.”
“What the fuck? How did you know that?”
“You’re out of breath. So either you just got out of the shower or you just came, but either way, you rushed to answer my call.”
“Maybe it was both.”Fuck.The image is clear in my mind, Hattie all slick and soapy in my shower, peering back over her shoulder, eyes begging me to follow her in. “Why are you calling me?”
“Can I take you out for dinner tonight?”
“Gross, no,” she scoffs.
“A walk then. With burritos on the way? I need to eat.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Rob.”
“What am I trying to do?”
“You’re trying to make me lose the bet by convincing me to see you in the desperate, misguided hope that if I’m in the same room as you I won’t be able to resist your advances, but there’s a flaw in your plan.”
“What flaw?”
“Do you really think I’m going to have sex with you on a walk?” she says, lowering her voice.
“What if the walk leads to my house?” She doesn’t reply, her usual quick witted responses all gone. “Come on, you know you want to. I’ll make it so good for you.”
“Still begging? Pathetic,” she laughs and hangs up.
Witch!
Something must be wired incorrectly in my brain because it doesn’t respond the way a normal person would to her attitude. Instead of being understandably offended and turned off by her rudeness, my twisted grey matter actually likes this.
And my dick likes it even more.
Chapter 6
Hattie
Slammingmyforeheadagainstmy locker, I curse my stupid vagina. I’m so close to caving in.
