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Sighing and shaking away the thoughts I pull up my official email and freeze.
Ms. Blackwood,
You’re a difficult woman to get a hold of. I just thought I would remind you that you can’t run from me, little traitor. I’ll be seeing you soon.
By the way, how is the weather in Maine?
Ice water floods my veins as I read the message once, twice…seven times. Five sentences…thirty nine words…that change every single fucking thing. It finally sinks in and dread floods me. He fucking found us. Almost an entire decade of continuously relocating just to avoid detection. Ten years of hiding away and living in fear…and he still fucking found me.
Chapter 2
Wolf
“Absorbed in the work which gives pleasure, we are unconscious of the passing day." – Ovid
I’ve always appreciated a good blowjob. I mean who wouldn’t, right? There’s something extremely hot about a girl being down on her knees, lips stretched around your length, while you just fucking pummel her throat.
The girl currently on her knees for me is doing a decent job. A little too much gagging and her moans are definitely not real but beggars can’t be choosers. She’s hot and willing and her mouth is warm and wet. I feel like that really hits all the decent markers for a one-night hook-up. Not that I would really know because I don’t typically do this whole one night stand thing.
But the second I got her back to my condo from the bar, she was stripping off her tight as fuck white dress and pouncing. I appreciate the enthusiasm, ya know? I didn’t have to ask her to get on her knees, she just fell to the floor and opened up those pretty pink lips.
So tell me why the fuck my dick isn’t enjoying this moment? Every time I look down at her big brown eyes that have tearsspilling from them I retract even further into my shell. Even the sight of her as she pinches her pebbled nipples isn’t enough to have that tingle in my balls.
And I fucking need this release.
Done wasting time on what feels like a first-time blowy, I wrap her bleach-blond hair in my fist and go to town. My rhythm is pretty punishing and her taloned nails are digging into my thighs…I wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood. And I fucking crave it. The pain just spurs me on.
I push my cock until the head breeches her throat, holding it as I feel her swallow around me. When I pull back I only allow her one gasping breath before I surge forward again. Over and over again until I’m groaning and my balls are drawing up. I don’t even warn her, I push so far back into her throat that she’s going to be sore tomorrow and fill her tight throat with my release.
When I’m done emptying myself I pull away and my gaze lands on a furious-looking blonde whose face is beet red. Her mascara is running down her cheeks and her bright pink lipstick is smeared to shit.Whoops.
“What the fuck, asshole,” she seethes, climbing to her feet and grabbing her clothes. Yep, she’s fucking pissed.
I sigh and grip the nape of my neck, “I uh…got carried away?”
It definitely sounds more like a question than an acknowledgment of what just went down but I don’t know what else to say. She’s ruining my post-orgasm high. I was kinda hoping that she would be cool about the face fucking so that I could bend her over my bed and fuck her tight ass. Isn’t that kind of the entire point of a hook-up? Quick fucks and decent orgasms before you never have to talk to each other again?
I’m almost one hundred percent sure that isn’t going to happen now. I mean the girl is still glaring at me while she throws on her skimpy dress. Call me an asshole but…I’m prettyconfused. I don’t actually know where I went wrong unless she’s mad over her makeup? She does slightly resemble a racoon now.
“You could have asked to fuck my face,” she barks out as she sits on my bed and starts to tie the straps on her ridiculous heels, “Or maybe warned me before you shot your load down my throat.”
“Um, yeah…my bad,” I can hear the insincerity in my tone. I mean…I guess I don’t really know the whole etiquette that comes with a hook-up. Like I said, I don't do this often. But I do know that I don’t like soft and sweet, that’s what relationships are for. I wanted to have a random woman in my bed so we could fuck ten times before she left and I never had to see her again.
She huffs out a breath and stands up, shooting me a scathing glare, “Don’t even think about calling me.”
I nod and follow her to the door. The truth is that I don’t even remember her goddamn name. There’s literally zero chance I will call her. The very idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. It’s not even just her though…she could be a lovely girl…But I don't do relationships. I don’t do phone calls or text messages, I won’t be available for a dinner date or after sex cuddling. I don’t want any of that.
Obviously, I don’t say any of that because I really don’t want to get my ass kicked. And I don’t hit women so she would easily do some damage.
When the door clicks shut, I snap the lock into place and breathe a sigh of relief.
This right here is why I don’t do hookups. But Seb was fucking hounding me at the bar about getting laid. So of course, I did the fucking thing where I listened to his dumbass.
Never. Again.
Okay, that’s a fucking lie. Maddox and Sebastian are my two closest friends. So without a doubt, we are going to end up doingdumb shit again. And I will more than likely follow whatever stupid plans they come up with.
But I love them both. Those two are my brothers. Maddox and I were friends in High School, and then we went on to join the Marines where we met Seb. The three of us instantly clicked and when Seb got discharged, Madd and I were quick to follow. We were some of the lucky few who got to go through boot camp and then be stationed together. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened to me if I hadn’t had them.
