I push her away from me via a hand to her face before spinning on my heels and stomping toward my room, acting ignorant to the limp my car accident caused.
Saige follows like a motherfucking lap dog. Her eagerness would usually please me. Today, it’s just pissing me off.
“Go wash off the jacuzzi water,” I demand, nudging my head to the bathroom attached to my room. “The chlorine on your skin is burning my nose hairs.”
Her nasally voice screeches my eardrums when she says, “There’s no towel.”
“You don’t need a towel, do ya?”
I nearly roll my eyes like a punk-ass when she smiles. “I guess not. They’re only needed for people wanting to dry off. I don’t want to be dry. I like being wet.”
When she switches on the shower faucet, my hand rockets up to cradle my skull. It’s not throbbing through one of the many migraines I’ve faced the past four weeks, it is struggling through a flashback. I’m standing in the middle of my room, but I swear droplets of rain are gliding down my cheeks.
When you think about an unexpected downpour, it usually arrives with a calming, natural smell. That isn’t the case this time around. My room reeks of pig shit… and perhaps a touch of mint.
I’m drawn from the oddity by Saige stopping to stand in front of me. She’s drenching wet and butt-naked. “Are you okay? Do you want me to get Dok?” The genuine concern in her tone frustrates me more than I can explain. She doesn’t know me, so she has no right to act as if she cares about me.
“I’m fine. Get on the bed.”
Her pussy and ass are shoved into my peripheral vision when she climbs onto my mattress, not the least bit confronted by my snapped tone. “How do you want me? Like this…” She shakes her ass, hopeful it will see some action tonight. “… or like this.” She rolls over and spreads her legs wide, fully exposing herself. Even though she’s just showered, I’m confident the sheen between her pussy lips isn’t water. Her cunt is salivating for me.
I can’t say my cock is having the same reaction for her. He’s down for the count. Passed the fuck out as I would have been if I had accepted Mikhail’s many offers for a line of coke earlier tonight. Usually, I’d take up his offer in an instant. I wasn’t interested tonight. Don’t ask me why. I’m beginning to wonder if it was more than a couple of days of memories I lost.
After clamping Saige’s knees together like the sight of her puffy cunt makes me sick, I tell her to tilt her head to the side and stay still. “I don’t even want to see you breathing.”
“Okay,” Saige breathes out slowly before straining her eyes to peer at me standing over her, lost on where to go next.
“Don’t look at me. Face your eyes to the wall.”
I wait for her to do as told before dumping my cap, shirt, and jeans onto the floor. Once my boxer shorts join them, I tug at my dick, begging for it to get with the program. He’s not even at half his strength, not that Saige seems to mine. She licks her lips while staring at the piercings down the shaft like they were put there for her pleasure.
“I said to look at the wall.” I slap her thigh hard enough for her to yelp before crawling up her body, praying like fuck my cock will sniff out the needs of her greedy cunt and stand to attention.
When the heaviness of my dick rests on the aching bud between her legs, Saige moans, and something inside me snaps. “I said to shut the fuck up! God, what is it with you women not knowing how to keep your mouth fucking shut? It isn’t hard to follow directions, is it!”
I flop onto my back before throwing an arm over my eyes. The throbbing of my brain against my temples is brutal, but it’s the silence it fails to arrive with that’s driving me mad.
Instead of taking the hint that I’m not interested, Saige positions herself onto her knees before she gathers up my cock in her hands. Yes, I said hands. Even in my pissy mood, I’m not ashamed to admit she’ll need more than two hands to handle me.
When her lips hover an inch above the crest of my cock, I growl out a set of words I never thought I’d say, “If an inch of my cock gets in your mouth, I’ll fucking kill you where you kneel.”
With menace being the highest of all the emotions in my voice, Saige’s backside sinks back until it’s resting on the balls of her feet, and my cock slips from her grasp. “Then what do you want me to do—”
“Get out.” When she remains frozen on my mattress, unblinking and mute as I wanted her to be only moments ago, I scream again, “Get out!”
After scurrying off the bed, I grab Saige’s wet bikini bottoms from the floor of my bathroom, her grubby nightie from the foot of my bed, and her arm before forcefully marching her to the door. Once she and her belongings are deposited in the corridor, I slam the door shut, grip the sprouts of blond hair peeking out the top of my head, and scream like I’ve never screamed before.
It’s a silent, gut-wrenching scream that sends my heart’s racing beats to my ears as quickly as my brain thumps my temples. When it does little to ease my agitation, I shift my focus to my room. This place was once my sanctuary, the only place I ran to when I was lost.
Now it feels empty, cold, and silent.
So very fucking silent.
After upending my bed, a drawer full of clothes, smashing my television into the wall, and taking a knife to my mattress, I shift my focus to my headboard and bedside tables.
They’re destroyed in a nanosecond, leaving me nothing left to ruin.
While running a hand over scars that will never be hidden, I crouch down to suck in some big breaths. I’m spiraling so hard if I don’t take a moment to breathe, I’ll destroy more than replaceable furniture.
