Page 8 of Hale's Pawn
I shake my head. I lay down, stretching out in the backseat. My chest is hurting again but I pretend it’s not because Mikonos will make me go to the hospital when it’s nothing, probably just stress. “Just sleepy. Wake me up when we’re at your place.”
ORAN
When I come to, I reach over to pull that midget next to me. I’m horny and her pussy is wet each time I slip in. I groan when I open my eyes and realize she’s not in bed. She better not be making me breakfast like we’re a couple. Ainslee Bish—err no, Ainslee Hale doesn’t really seem like an ‘I’ll cook and clean’ type of woman and if she is, she’s a stepford wife who will probably poison you slowly. That thought was courtesy of Jagger getting those cookies filled with everything he’s allergic to. I snicker because I married someone who tries to kill my best friend every other week. I might need to put my foot down about that too and her stupid ass notion about me wanting to tame her into a belle. If I wanted a belle, I would’ve said so. I just simply don’t think about anyone and now, I have no choice but to think about my wife. A girl who can take care of herself, yet at the same time, she really lets those who are close to her treat her like shit. It doesn’t make any sense.
I move the sheets out of the way and set my feet on my floor. The warmth of it reminds me why I invested in warmed floors. I get out of bed and look around for the little shrimp. “Ainslee?” I call her name out, but nothing. I shrug. I tried. I change my direction and head for the shower. I jerk off in the shower, needing release. Next time, I won’t go so long without getting my dick wet. It’s never a priority but once I start up, I want to fuck it out of my system.
After my shower, I dry myself and do every basic thing I need to do. I go to my walk-in, ready to get dressed, and I notice my shirt that I wanted to wear for work is not where it needs to be. I narrow my eyes at the top half of Ainslee’s dress from yesterday. I tilt my head. Now that I think about it, she didn’t take that off at all. She managed to take her makeup off, but not this? Weirdo.
I get dressed and then I call Ainslee. Her phone rings but then nothing. Is she ignoring my phone calls? Mine? I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who ignored my phone calls...ever. And they never became my wife. I roll my eyes and press the call button again. It rings a couple times and then a man picks up.
“She’s at my place,” he says.
“Who the fuck is this?” I ask calmly.
“Mikonos. Who the fuck else?” the big asshole replies.
“So then why didn’t you just say so, asshole? Phone etiquette works.”
He chuckles. “You want my address or do you want to teach me phone etiquette? Come get your runaway bride. Be happy she’s not eating Oreos.”
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“You’ll figure it out. I’ll text you my address from my phone so the next time you lose your wife, you can text me.”
“I didn’t—.” My sentence is cut short because the big fuck hung up.
How the fuck does this man even conduct business with his shitty phone etiquette? My phone pings with a message from a number and there’s an address. I save his number asBig Asshole. Ainslee likes to play cat and mouse but I’m not opposed to devouring the little mouse as soon as I get her in my grasp.
While I’m in the car, I get a call from Jagger. “What?”
Jagger laughs. “Did you get some pussy?”
“That’s what you called me for?” I ask.
“No. I was going to suggest coffee but with the way you answered, I know you definitely got some. It’s in your tone.”
“My tone? How?”
“You answer like your balls finally got soaked in pussy juice. So tell me, was it just as good as I imagine it is?”
I hesitate to answer him. I mean, he’s my best friend and this conversation doesn’t usually bother me, but I don’t want to talk about my wife’s pussy. Wait… why don’t I want to talk about that shrimp? “Don’t talk about my wife’s pussy like that.”
Jagger makes a noise. “Ugh, don’t get allI am a man, hear me roarbullshit with me. You fucked her for one night, we can stop discussing this when you actually like her, dickhead.”
I laugh. “Shut up, asshole. Her pussy is good. Always wet. Happy?”
Jagger groans. “Yeah. That’s good enough for me. Anyway, where are you going?”
“The fact that you know I’m in my car just doesn’t surprise me anymore,” I say to him.
Jagger chuckles. “Like you don’t know what I’m doing right now.”
“Drinking coffee in the nude, leaning on your counter. Hope you drop the hot coffee on your dick.”
He snorts. “You forget, I don’t need my dick to please my woman. There’s so many other ways to fuck.”
I try not to laugh but I can’t help it. “Sick bastard but, yeah, I’m in the car and I’m going to pick up my wife. She tried the whole fuck and duck shit.”
