Page 71 of Shattered Sun

No, she managed to piss off both her boy toys in the same night. All but kicked one in the nuts after he kissed her. Let the other drive away, dazed and confused.

Whore.

Parking up the street after she dropped dipshit number one at the inn, I walked around the block and approached her house from the opposite direction. I was two houses away when dipshit number two hopped in his truck and drove off.

At least I don’t have to look at his pretty boy mug tonight. At least I don’t have to watch him fuck her tonight. Don’t have to listen to her moans while she begs him for more.

Whore.

I peek through the small crack in the curtains. A crack I swear she leaves open for me. Only me. Until my first note, she rarely had that crack between the curtains. Or left the small lamp on while sleeping.

For me. She does this for me.

I trail my eyes over her body as she sleeps. Each night, before she drifts off, the covers are yanked high. Pulled to her chin, blanketing her bare flesh. She may own pajamas, but she never sleeps in them. And as the night progresses, as she dreams and rolls and shifts, the covers slide off her body. Move to the opposite side of the bed or down toward the footboard.

Unless that fucking pig is in her bed.

Whore.

Unbuttoning my jeans, I jerk down the zipper, shove the denim down a few inches, and pull out my cock. Hard and thick and needy, I wrap my fist around my dick and yank. I stare at her perfect little tits and stroke myself. Lick my lips and imagine I’m licking those rosy, pert nipples.

Drifting down her body, I memorize her dips and curves. When I reach the small tuft of hair on her cunt, I jerk my dick harder, faster, greedier.

She shifts in the bed, her legs spreading a few inches wider. Even in sleep, she wants to give herself to me. She wants me to have what is mine.

My whore.

I stare at her pink cunt and hiss as I tug my cock forcefully. Precum spills out and slicks the head. I spit in the direction of my cock and lube myself, imagining it’s her pussy soaking my dick.

Lightning bolts through me, drawing my balls up. My breath comes in ragged bursts as sweat soaks the back of my neck. And just before I come, I release my cock, reach for my balls, and yank down.

I want to come—on her face, on her breasts, down her throat, in her cunt. But I won’t waste my cum on the side of her house. I won’t waste it on the snow blanketing the ground or the shrub near her window.

No, I will wait. A little longer, I will wait.

Stuffing my cock back in my pants, I zip and button up. Take one last look and step back from her window.

One step, then another, I move to the front porch. Remove the slender box tucked in my coat and lay it on the welcome mat. I pivot with a smile on my face and head for the sidewalk.

In the cover of night, I return to my car and drive away.

My whore.

TWENTY-FOUR

TRAVIS

Rippingthe blanket off my body, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. I drop my head in my hands and press the heels of my palms into my eyes until the pain becomes unbearable.

“Fuck…”

I need sleep. Uninterrupted, dreamless sleep for half a day. Maybe more.

But that isn’t happening today. Hopefully tonight.

First, I have to clear the air with Kirsten. Apologize for my reaction. What happened with Ben isn’t on her. Kirsten wants to rekindle a lost friendship and he misread their time together as something more. Or he took advantage of the situation.

For his sake, it better not be the latter.

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