Page 25 of At My Worst

I look back at Brittany. “Let me explain,” she pleads as she starts to get off of him.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you. Enjoy her pussy, Frankie. You both fucking deserve each other,” I say as I turn and go back the way I just came. I open the door and slam it shut behind me.

I can hear her screaming my name, but this time, I am not going to give her time to talk her way out of this. She knew what she was doing. I hope his cock was worth it.

Because this time, I am done.

I open my eyes and take another deep pull off the smoke. I shake my head and drop it to the ground, stepping on it. I push off the wall and head down the side road to Bianca’s house. It’s three in the morning, and she said she was staying home to read and write a little bit.

I stop in front of her house and put my hands in my front pockets when I see her on the deck. She has a book in her handand is leaning against her house with an energy drink sitting beside her. A smile forms across my lips as I slowly walk up the steps.

She looks up from the book and sets it in her lap. “Hey,” she says, looking at me.

She is at home just like she said she would be, reading a book on her deck. No other guy is here, no one but me.

She is not Brittany.

I take a deep breath. “What are you reading?” I ask as I turn and slide down the wall to sit next to her.

“The Ritual,” she says calmly.

I smile. “Let me guess, another dark romance.”

She bumps me lightly. “Like you even need to ask that question,” she says with amusement.

“Fair.”

I lean back against her house and look at the waves. She gently places her hand on my leg, getting my attention.

“Are you okay?” She asks in a concerned voice.

I hate that she has to ask me that. I shouldn’t be affected by Brittany anymore, but we have a long history and a lot of pain. No matter how much I try to escape my feelings, they always seem to catch up with me.

“No, not really,” I say softly.

“Wanna talk about it?” She asks.

She wants to know what is wrong, but I don’t want her to know what is wrong with me right now. I don’t want her to hear about how memories of me walking in on my ex cheating on me are flooding me, drowning me. I don’t want her to know just how fucked up in the head I am right now.

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Is there something I can do to help?” She asks in a low voice.

I turn my head and look at her, and then I scan down her body. She is wearing an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts, making mymouth water. My eyes land back on hers. She tilts her head and smiles as she sets the books down on the deck.

She slowly stands up. I follow her every move. She grabs the top of her cotton shorts, pushes them down her long olive skin legs, and steps out of them. She slowly makes her way between my legs, kneels, and unbuttons and unzips my pants. Grabbing the top, she pulls them down with my boxers. I lift my hips so she can take them down to my ankles.

Fuck.

She stands in front of me and slowly lowers herself to straddle my legs, hovering over my hard dick. She reaches down and grabs onto my cock.

“Ever wanted to fuck a stranger on a deck against a house?” I ask her, my breathing becoming more rapid.

She smiles at me, and all the emotions and memories that were taking me over just minutes ago have faded away. The only person on my mind is her.

“This is now mine, Sir,” she whispers as she holds my cock.

“Holy fuck” I groan.

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