Alex
“Fucking cunt.”
She doesn’t back down. “Go fuck yourself, Alex—”
“Nah, Za. I think I’ll have some other bitch do that for me.”
Her blue-green eyes are narrowed into slits and usually when she gets like this, it scares me—wondering what she’s going to do next, who she’s going to try to use to fuck me over.
But it’s too late for that because she already screwed me over for the last fucking time.
“Get out of my house or I’ll throw you out.”
She just smiles at me, crossing her arms over her chest. Her pale stomach is exposed, a string bikini tied around her slim hips, a scar across her left one.
I feel my dick growing hard at the sight of her. Knowing I could take her right here. Right fucking now. Even if she put up a fight, no one would hear her scream. The music is so loud downstairs, my bedroom floor is shaking with the bass.
And although at five eight, Za isn’t short, she doesn’t have shit on me, not to mention she’s slim as fuck.
Just thinking about yanking her two white-blonde braids, forcing her to her knees and throat fucking her makes my chest feel tight and my hands curl into fists at my sides.
But I can’t do it. She brings out the fucking worst in me and I can’t do this.
Not again.
Not anymore.
Not after the shit she pulled last week.
“You don’t mean it,” she tells me, switching tactics, trying to plead with me. She drops her arms, takes a step toward me. “Don’t do it, Alex, I swear I—”
“You swear you what?” I ask, grinding my teeth. If she touches me, I swear to God, I will fucking—
She does it.
She closes the space between us and she fucking touches me, her fingers trail down my bare chest. All the way to my swimming trunks, and then her hand is on my dick, palming me.
Despite my promise to myself that that was the last time, that I wouldn’t touch her again after I saw her down on her knees for Jamal Clint, my eyes flutter closed and I just...
Goddammit, I can’t fucking stop her.
I try to picture it. Try to think of her, high as fuck as she stumbled down the hall of that house party in Shadow Lakes. Think of how I let her go, how I shot the shit with Dwight, keeping an eye on the hallway, hoping she’d just gone to the bathroom. How I was growing so fucking impatient, but I was going to trust her. Six months together and I never had, but this time, I was going to do it.
But ten minutes passed and even Dwight seemed concerned. He told me to go check on her.
I did.
She wasn’t in the bathroom.
She was in the spare bedroom, and Jamal was moaning as she was...
My eyes fly open and she’s already on her knees again, trying to pull down my green swimming trunks.
No.
I grab her by the throat, yank her up to her feet. Her fingers rise to my hand, scratching at me. And I know her. I know what she’ll try to do if I leave a bruise on her. Zara Henderson is a vindictive, manipulative, lying, druggie whore.
I push her away, letting go of her quickly. “Get.Out,”I say again, pointing to the door.