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His hips bucked as he squeezed himself tighter, wishing it was this girl’s little pussy instead of his fist.
He’d flip her onto her hands and knees, and slide his cock back inside her. She’d bury her face into the pillows, but he’d grip her hair and pull her head back, wanting to hear her scream for him. Wanting the whole damn neighborhood to hear her scream for him.
Maybe he’d use his thick finger to play with her asshole. Had she been taken there already, or would he be her first? He didn’t know if he really cared, he just wanted to own every inch of her—own every hole.
She’d beg Daddy to let her come like his good girl. He wouldn’t let her, not yet. Not until he felt that familiar tightening in his balls, the tingling at the base of his spine. He’d strum his fingers over her swollen clit as he fucked her hard and fast, not holding back.
He squeezed tighter, his back bowing as he grunted his release, picturing his cum was filling her instead of landing in thick globs on his stomach.
His chest heaved as he tried to breathe, his hand still too tight around his aching cock. He was still hard, ready to go again.
But then he blinked and realized what he just did.
Shit.
He shouldn’t have done that. He should not have done that.
He checked his messages again, then closed the app and threw his phone on the bed beside him. This couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t fuck himself to her ever again.
* * *
Abbie fumbledwith her purse as she searched for her house keys. She glared up at the burnt-out lightbulb on the wall, muttering to herself about incompetent people.
She winced.
She sounded like her mother.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to rework it in her head. Even though she’d complained several times to the apartment manager that the light needed to be replaced and nothing had happened, it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe they were short staffed. Or too busy to change a silly little bulb. She could do it herself.
That was a thought.
Shaking herself, she went back to her bag, trying to find her stupid key. She really should put the thing on a key ring.
Someone stomped up the stairs, the metal railing vibrating with each step. Panic tightened her chest and she searched faster.
It was late. Like, well past midnight late. She’d wanted to leave earlier—Chris tried to convince her mother to let her leave earlier, but she wouldn’t have it. Said it would look bad if Abbie left early.
So, she’d stayed until the last guest left, then stayed a bit later. Her mother had scolded her for hiding out in the kitchen and being a general embarrassment.
Though, she hadn’t heard about the incident with Ted, which was a small mercy.
The footsteps grew louder, and she cursed under her breath. Shoot. She really needed to get a key ring.
The person stepped onto the landing, running into the wall as they stumbled forward. He let out a loud burp, then a hiccup. Maybe he was too drunk to notice her.
Please be too drunk.
She froze, squeezing her eyes shut. She had eight neighbors on this floor. A few were the creepiest, slimiest men she’d ever met. Then there was Mrs. Anderson across the hall, and Mr. Johnson beside her. And right next to Abbie’s apartment was Wes, a guy close to Chris’ age that was normal and kind. Not pushy, and never tried to invite her into his apartment.
He came home drunk most weekends, but he usually had a girl on his arm. It was rare he ever came home alone, so she assumed the drunk guy behind her couldn’t be Wes.
But then he stumbled forward again, chuckling to himself. He brushed past her, then paused. His head flopped toward her, causing his body to go off balance.
“Abbie-Girl, that you?” he slurred, and she took a deep breath.
“Hey, Wes.” She winced as she turned toward him, wishing she’d found her keys so she could’ve avoided this.
Even if he was a nice guy and she liked talking to him, she even asked him for help most days, she didn’t feel like talking to him right now. She just wanted to take a bath and go to bed.
