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“Oh fuck! Ah, shit!” My screams echo through the room. The pain I’m feeling is unbearable right now. Damn, that one hurt.
I move the handheld mirror to look at my handiwork, relieved that I’m almost done with this misery. I’m sweating my ass off trying to get all the right angles to make sure I don’t miss a spot.
Being a woman fucking sucks sometimes. If I wasn’t so cheap, I’d go somewhere to get this done, but since I don’t have the money, I have to be the one to keep this kitty cat in working condition. Who knew waxing your vagina would be a workout?
Thankfully, Lya understands the type of presents I like so she gave me a wax warmer for my birthday. That baby has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a waxing session, so it was definitely time to clean up a bit.
Only two more rounds and I should be done with this painful bullshit. Dipping the popsicle stick back into the wax, I let it cool a bit before placing it on the hair; I’m not trying to burn my pussy. Been there, done that—it’d looked like my vagina got mauled by a bear that time.
Waiting for the wax to harden, I take in a deep breath, preparing myself for the unbearable sting. I’d like to think of myself as a tough woman, but the skin down there is sensitive as hell. Holding my mirror in place, my chest heaves in anticipation and I grab the wax, ripping it off quickly. A loud scream erupts from me at the pain.
Before I can even throw the wax away, my bathroom door flies open, ripping another loud squeal from me. Standing in my door frame is a large, imposing man with a gun pointed right at me. Without thinking, I take the mirror and throw it at him as hard as I can. It smacks him straight in the face with a loud thump, forcing him to stumble backward into my bedroom.
While he’s off guard, I charge at him, attempting to tackle him. My arms wrap around his waist, pushing him so hard we both tumble to the ground. Fuck, this guy is heavy. The gun loosens in his hold, and I’m able to knock it away from us about two feet. Zep would be proud of my instincts.
“Stop,” he growls, trying to get up, but I keep fighting. I quickly crawl up his body, straddling his waist. Not ideal, considering I’m naked from the waist down, but obviously I didn’t have time to ask the intruder if I could put clothes on. His eyes go directly to my naked pussy sitting on his chest, giving me the chance to punch him in the face. This guy is easily distracted—no wonder I was able to take him down easily.
The punch lands on the side of his face so hard that my knuckles sting. That’s going to leave a bruise. He’s already got a small cut on his forehead from where the mirror hit him, and blood is trickling down his face.
His head rolls to the side, but he grabs my hips, flipping me over and pinning my wrists above my head. Pushing all of his weight down, he almost knocks the wind out of me with the pressure. I know that if I don’t fight back now, he’ll easily be able to fuck me up.
“Get off me!” I go to headbutt him in the face, but he anticipates my move, quickly jerking out of the way.
“Stop fighting me, Tara.” His voice is so deep and raspy, it sends a shiver down my spine. It’s the type of voice that’s alluring, the type that catches you off guard right before you get murdered.
Who the fuck is this guy?
“I’ll fuck you up, you jackass!” Wiggling in his hold, I try to buck my hips up to push him off me. He doesn’t seem deterred by my threats, not that I expected him to be. He’s huge compared to me, obviously able to completely overpower me in a second.
“Nix sent me. Jesus, stop fighting me. I’m not going to hurt you.” His dark brown eyes are pleading with me to stop. His curly hair flops over his forehead, as blood drips down his face from the cut right above his eyebrow. Bright red swelling is also forming under his eye where I punched him. Not going to lie, I feel satisfied that I at least got some good hits in.
“Says the man who broke into my apartment and pointed a gun at me.”
“Nix gave me keys—he got a copy from the office manager. I swear I’m not going to hurt you.”
What the hell? A little heads up that he had keys would’ve been nice.
“Of course he did.” I wonder what he gave Lee, the office manager, in exchange for a copy of those keys. Probably just intimidated him into doing it. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
This man could be anyone. I know Marnix works with the Snakes. The man on top of me could be a rival member who killed the guy he says he is. After everything I’ve been through, nothing seems ridiculous anymore.
“What reason would I have to lie to you?” He scoffs at me, like it’s a ridiculous question to ask. It’s not my fault some random asshole busted into my room brandishing a gun while I was waxing my pussy—I think I’m allowed to have questions.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know who the fuck you are!”
“Rushton Bergman. I work for Nix.” There was no hesitation when he said it. He maintained direct eye contact and didn’t waver. That could be rehearsed though.
“Alright, Rushton. That still doesn’t prove you are who you say you are.”
He groans, like I’m making this difficult. At this point, I’m starting to believe he is who he says, since he could’ve easily killed or hurt me by now. You can never be too sure though.
“If I let go of you, are you going to hit me again?” His voice is dubious, like he’s unsure what I’ll do.
Smart man.
“Probably.” I shrug as much as I can in this position.
He sighs. “I’m going to call him so you can speak to him. He’ll tell you who I am.” He moves his hand to hold both of my wrists in place. I try to wiggle them but he’s so strong; it’s no use. As he reaches into his back pocket to grab his phone, his body shifts slightly on top of me, and I swear I feel a hard-on pressing against my core.
