Page 63 of I’m The Worst

His body is too close.

And for the first time in months, I don’t feel like I’m about to break apart. I hate how much I want him to pull me even closer.

His fingers rest dangerously low on my stomach, palm flat against the thin fabric of his shirt I’m wearing. My skin tingles where he touches me.

I shift, just barely, pressing my ass back against him.

“AJ,” he says darkly, like a warning.

I feel him harden instantly, thick and heavy against my ass cheek. The size of him makes my breath catch.

Fuck.

I’m a mess. Wet. Aching. And I don’t even care anymore.

I bite my bottom lip, gnawing on the flesh. I need this. I need something to drown out the memories, the shame, the fact that I’m going home to be used all over again. I need him to make me forget, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

“What?” leaves me on a breathy exhale.

His large hand slides lower, fingers digging into my hip with bruising force.

“Stop. Moving.” His lips are right against my ear, breath hot on my neck. Another shiver ripples through me as his beard scrapes my skin.

I should listen.

But I arch back slowly, pressing my ass against the full, rigid length of his cock. The thin layers between us do nothing to hide how hard he is.

His fingers curl into a fist against my stomach, tugging at the t-shirt like he’s trying to hold on to his sanity.

His lips brush the shell of my ear as he leans in closer.

“Do you know what a man like me will do to a girl like you?”

The deep gravel in his voice makes my pussy throb.

I swallow hard. “Yes.”

“No.” His grip turns almost painful. “You don’t.”

God, he feels massive behind me. If I just shifted my leg a little, angled my hips…he could push right inside me.

“Wolff…” I whimper.

The bed creaks as he shifts his weight, rolling me onto my back so he can look down at me. His face is inches from mine, closer than he’s been since the night he found me.

The memory flashes through my mind: his cock stretching me open, me fighting him on stage, our cum leaking down my thighs. My stomach swoops and twists with shame and want at the same time.

I don’t want to remember that.

I just want him to ruin me tonight.

I’m trembling with need. So wet it’s embarrassing.

Then he moves.

One second, he’s looking at me. The next, he’s sliding down my body like he’s done fighting it.

He doesn’t speak.