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Two
Smith
It’s hard to concentrate on locking the door again when I have this brat on my shoulder. That’s what she is. A little brat in her pink tutu, those silky ribbons crisscrossing up her legs, all the way to the knee. I want to shred them with my fucking teeth. I think I could scent her from a hundred miles away. Not only is she the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life with her strawberry-blonde hair and green eyes, she smells as though she’s been dipped in vanilla and warm pears. I don’t know what the air is like on Christmas morning, but in my imagination, it’s heavy with her scent. Magic.
No.
Not magic. Trickery.
Females lie. All of them are liars.
Evil.
I’ve never taken one to bed because I can’t get over my disgust toward women long enough to relieve myself. But this one…for some reason, I’m not repulsed whatsoever. Yet. I’m nearly shaking from my attraction to her lithe legs, currently covered in tights. I’m all but salivating at the possibility of how smooth she’ll be underneath them once I rip them off.
If she starts talking and lies begin pouring out of her mouth, I’m sure this odd possessiveness will fade somewhat. Become manageable. I both dread and look forward to the moment she’ll become like everyone else in my mind. Dishonest. Immoral.
Didn’t my brother say she was a harlot?
Baker never lies to me. He always tells me the truth, even when it hurts.
And I don’t have a hard time believing a woman would use her beauty to her advantage. Against men. This one is angelic and unique and smells of paradise. I can only imagine the havoc she wreaks on males.
Tonight I give in. Just for a while.
The moment I opened the door and saw her, there was no other choice.
As soon as the locks are engaged, I turn and cross to the cracked mirror hanging crooked on the wall, moving close as possible to examine her tight ballerina backside where it bends over my shoulder. I run my hand over that flesh, squeezing each cheek, playing with the little pink hem of her built-in underwear. Pulling the material taut in the valley of her crack, separating those cheeks and making them jiggle for me.
She whimpers.
Of course she does. I’m sure she loves being a temptation.
Making my cock so hard it could double as a battering ram.
I’m going to take out my frustration on her pussy first, then I’m going to turn her over and lose myself in this ass. If she’s a harlot like my brother claims, she’ll even moan and encourage me to plow hard and deep. She’ll probably open her legs for my cock without me having to shove them open for her.
I set the tiny dancer on her feet, intending to strip her out of that costume—
She slaps me hard across the face.
With such force that I see stars winking in front of my eyes.
And then she stumbles backward and slides down the wall of my makeshift kitchen, tears streaming down her face. “Please, please, don’t hurt me.”
My chest is suddenly full of rocks. This is not how women behave. They smile and parade around until they’re ready to stab a man in the back. This one is erratic and vulnerable and fearful. Is she really going to pretend she doesn’t want to fuck? Don’t women live for the moment they make a man weak with lust? That’s what I’ve always believed—ever since I was a teenager. Ever since the series of events that got me in trouble.
I didn’t touch them. I swear to God.
No one believed me. To this day, no one takes me at my word.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say, the memories causing my voice to be more forceful than intended. Not good, when I want very, very much for her to stop crying. Every one of her tears is like a dagger to my midsection. Why? I don’t understand why I care. Maybe because she seems to honestly be crying, not faking it for show. Or to fool someone. “Go get in my bed.”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to lord your power over me?” I reach her in two long strides and heft her back up onto her feet, hustling her to the back of my home with my hand closed around the nape of her neck. “That’s what women live for, isn’t it? Or maybe you’ve already lorded so much of your power today, you’re exhausted at the thought of more. Too bad. You made my dick hard and I’ve never seen a prettier female in my life. Your fate is sealed.”
She sputters. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘lording my power.’”
