Chapter 16
Blake
What the actual fuck am I doing?
I brace my hands against the bathroom counter of my condo, asking myself that same question for the hundredth time tonight. The white granite is cold under my fingertips, but it does nothing to chill the fire burning through me.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
I had Tracy right where I wanted her—right where I’ve been dying to get her—and I tell her I don’t need her for anything? I may as well have told her the sun isn’t hot, the sky isn’t blue, and she isn’t the most goddamn beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Lies. All of them.
“Fuuuuuck,” I groan.
Maybe I can salvage this. Maybe I can fix whatever the fuck I just ruined.
But Jesus Christ, should I even fix it? I shouldn’t be getting involved with her, but I can’t stay away, and it’s clearly creating chaos between us.
This limbo we’re in can’t last. She’s destroying my brittle self-control piece by piece, threatening everything I’ve worked my ass off for, and she needs to go before she does more damage.
This last week has been nothing but mayhem for me. I can’t focus with her around, and then seeing another man try to make a move on her…
Fuck, I want her.
It’s becoming increasingly obvious, and I’m not too proud to admit that I can’t resist her any longer. So, I’ll indulge. I’ll get her out of my system, then out of my brokerage. I can have the best of both worlds that way: her sweet, sweet cunt, and some peace, once I send her packing.
Really, it’s the best solution. Give both my dick and my head what each of them wants. But first, I have to figure out how the fuck to fix what I just did.
Stripping out of my blood-splattered clothes, I’m about to jump in the shower when I get an idea. Maybe I can extend an olive branch. Return the favor kind of thing.
Grabbing my cell phone, I turn on the camera and point the lens toward the mirror. I angle myself slightly to the side, flexing my abs and arms, and snap a picture.
As I take in the photo, my eyes go straight to the bruise forming on my face.
Delete. We definitely don’t need a reminder of all the shit that happened tonight.
I take several more, then finally settle on a photo that cuts off at my neck and waist. Before I can bitch out, I send it to Tracy, along with a text.
Me
For when you think of me in the shower
I wait for her response.
And wait.
And fucking wait.
What the hell am I even doing? Sending pictures of my abs to a woman like some kind of fucking creep. I swear to god Tracy has scrambled my brain and sent all my goddamn common sense fleeing.
Tossing my phone onto the counter, I step into the shower. I’m still hard as a rock from our little rendezvous in my truck.
I should have fucked her. I should have done all the dirty things I said I’d do to her. Then, with my dick sated and my mind clear, I could have kicked her out of the brokerage.
Fuck it. If I can’t have her tonight, I’ll take the next best thing.
Stepping back out of the shower, I drip water all over the tile floor as I head back to the counter and grab my phone.
Pulling up the photo Tracy sent me earlier, I fist my dick, running my hand up and down the hard length.
Christ, she’s so beautiful. She’s the embodiment of temptation in this photo.
She’s an apple in the Garden of Eden. A siren luring me to what I’m sure will be a painful end.
And I want nothing more than to devour her. To follow her wherever she leads me.
I increase my speed, stroking myself at a quick pace as I stare at her, those perfect tits taunting me.
I wonder what her nipples look like. I’m sure it’s not an accident that her hand is placed over her chest the way it is, hiding what I know are perfect, hardened peaks beneath her palm and fingers.
My grip tightens as I imagine thrusting between the valley of her tits, the head of my dick brushing over her lips as I titty-fuck her. Those perfect pink lips, open and ready for my cum. And she’d swallow me down, every last drop, like such a good fucking girl.
I come with a grunt, my release spraying over the bathroom counter as I stroke myself through the pleasure, wishing it was Tracy’s hands on me instead of my own.
Letting out a long sigh, I clean up the counter, then jump back into the shower.
I don’t feel sated, not even close, and that right there should be warning enough that this can’t go anywhere.
That I can’t give in to what I want. Because I have a feeling the second I get a taste, there will be no letting her go.
I wash the smell of Tracy off me, the water stinging as it runs over the cuts on my face. When I’m done, I get out and wipe the cuts with antiseptic, then head to bed.
Just as I pull the sheet over me, my phone vibrates.
Sunshine
Thanks, but I don’t think of you in the shower. That seems to be your thing.
I stare at her text in disbelief. There’s no way she’s not thinking about me. She’s fucking consuming my every waking thought, even when I don’t want her to.
Me
I find that hard to believe
Sunshine
Why on earth would I think about you in the shower? You don’t need me for anything, remember? Well, I don’t need you for anything, either.
Okay, so she’s pissed off at me about tonight, but I still don’t believe her. She came on my thigh an hour ago, for fuck’s sake.
And god, what a beautiful sight it was.
Shoving all reason aside, I type out a response.
Me
So you don’t imagine my lips on your skin?
Sunshine
No
Me
Hmmm…what about my hands on your body?
Sunshine
No, leave me alone
Me
Not even my head between your legs?
She leaves me on read, and doesn’t respond immediately like she did before. Interesting.
Me
What about my lips on your pussy? Lapping up your cum after you get yourself off on my thigh. Is that what I should have done tonight, sunshine? Should I have feasted on your dripping cunt after you got off?
If I didn’t cross a line earlier tonight, I did now, and there’s no backing out of this.
So, she works for me. But what did Whitney say earlier? I’m the boss, and I make the rules? Well, I’m fucking breaking them. Because when it comes to Tracy, I can’t get myself to stop. Her stubbornness has been a pain in my ass and the biggest fucking turn-on at the same time.
Ten minutes go by and she doesn’t respond, which means she either fell asleep, is pissed off enough at me not to let my texts frazzle her, or she’s playing hard to get.
I’m going with option three.
Me
Are you wet for me? Are you touching yourself, wishing it was my fingers sliding into that soaked pussy instead?
Sunshine
If you ever get the chance to prove yourself, I’ll let you know then whether I prefer your fingers or my own
A smile creeps onto my face. There she is.
Me
One day, sweetheart. One day, I’ll show you exactly what these fingers can do
Sunshine
Doubtful. Go to bed.
And wash out those cuts
Not that I care if they get infected. Maybe then they’d match your rotten heart
I can’t help the laugh that rumbles in my chest. She’s out for blood.
Bring it on, sweetheart.
Tossing my phone onto the nightstand, I find myself eager for Monday morning, so she can barge into my office and make demands about becoming my protégé or apprentice or whatever the hell she wants to call it next week.
Because fuck keeping a distance. And fuck getting her out of my system. Tracy is mine until I decide to let her go.