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My hands were shaking; if I was strong enough, I would take him by the collar and drag him out of my apartment. But he’s twice my size and a football player, so I have no chance of doing that. Instead, I head over to the door and open it wide.
“Get out.” I switch to a calm voice, hoping it’d give the impression that I’m done with this conversation and would like him to leave right now.
“What?” Cameron said, looking confused.
Never thought I’d fight back, did you?
“You heard me. Get out.” My voice was a little more robust, and I was close to yelling again.
Cameron sighs, picking up his bag and heading out the door. Before he can say another word, I slam the door in his face.
I slide to the floor and cover my mouth. The tears start to slide down my face.
If I wasn’t sure I wanted Bryce before, I know I do now.
He wants me to be sure, and I’m sure as fuck now. I want him to fuck me so bad I ache. I don’t know when I stopped seeing Bryce as Cameron’s dad. Now he’s the hot judge I want to lose my virginity to. Out of all the people I could have had this revenge fuck with, I’m glad it’s him.
I take a deep breath and let the rest of my tears fall. Tonight I will cry. I will wash away all the feelings, heartbreak, and anger. Tomorrow I’ll go to Bryce’s house and beg for his cock.
Yeah, that sounds good.
Chapter 4: Bryce
When I get home, I head right for my scotch and sit on the couch. Before I got too comfortable, I did change into a T-shirt and a pair of soft jeans. They’re my oldest and most comfortable pair.
I sigh and take a look at my watch for the hundredth time. Today is Penelope’s deadline. But it’s almost six, and I haven’t seen her. I’m not sure I will.
I curse as I think of what kind of bastard lusts after his son’s girlfriend. Even if he is a giant douche for cheating on her. I’ve wanted Penelope long before she came to my office yesterday. It fills me with shame that some of my thoughts while alone in my bed or in the shower have been about her. I imagined her in the shower with me, her hands gliding over her soapy body, her hands sliding over her breasts, her pussy. Or I’d think about her in my T-shirt as I fucked her on the porch outside. As I pounded into her, her ass was out, and her body was over the patio table.
I adjust my cock in my pants as I try to think of anything else.
Grandma in a nightgown.
Clowns.
The courtroom.
Nothing really works, though. Thoughts of Penelope are too strong, and I want her so badly. She says she only wants me out of revenge, but I’ll take that. I’ll do anything to feel her sweet pussy around my cock.
I take a sip of my scotch, then hear a knock on the door. I take my drink to the door and inhale when I see Penelope standing there. She’s wearing a long trench coat covered in snow from outside and a beige brown toque with a matching scarf.
“Penelope,” my voice is calm, but my body aches to yank her close and ravish her.
“Hiya,” she grins at me and waves the bottle of whiskey in her hand. “I thought maybe we could have a small drink together.”
She did not come over here just for a drink. I assume it’s a classier line than ‘I came over to fuck you as revenge. Now, will you do me?’ No, Penelope’s not that blunt. So I move over and let her in from the cold.
When she removes her jacket, I shove my free hand in my pocket to keep from touching her. She’s wearing a light brown cowl neck sweater dress that hits her knees, and when she takes off her thigh-high boots, I see her white stockings. Because of the dress's neckline, I can see her cleavage and want to sink my hands underneath the dress and feel her warmth.
I take another sip of my drink, letting the liquid slide down my throat, quenching my thirst. Though, as much as I love scotch, I’d much rather have Penelope’s juices in my mouth.
Penelope stands with the bottle in hand, and I bring us to the living room, where she places it on the table. I get a glass and pour her some. Then I empty my glass and pour some for myself. We sit on opposite ends of the couch as we sip the whiskey in silence. My free hand twitches on my lap when Penelope crosses her legs, revealing part of her bare thigh.
Fuck me.
I don’t know how long I’m going to last. There’s a silent plan forming between us. We both know what’s going to happen. But there’s tension in the room. A lustful tension one could cut with a knife.
I notice her hair is down. When I’ve seen her, she’s always kept it in a ponytail. But tonight, it’s down and all wavy. Her hair is reddish blonde, almost pink, with bangs. It looks so fucking soft, and I want to bury my face in it.
