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I avert my eyes when I notice him watching me closely. I don’t know if the conflict I’m feeling is showing on my face, but just in case, I don’t want him to see it. I lift my hips and he slides out of me. We both groan at the sensitive contact.
I get up from the bed and reach down for my panties, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him.
What the hell? I’m never shy about my body in front of the guys I fuck. Regardless, I slide my panties up my thighs and cross my arms over my chest before turning to face him.
“I’m hitting the shower. Thank you for tonight,” I tell him, my voice coming out shaky.
He smirks, the look sexy as hell on his face. “Want some company?”
A shiver races down my spine with the blatant look of desire I see in his eyes. He’s still hard. How the hell can he still be hard? That’s not normal. As much as I want to take him up on the offer and ride his cock into next Friday, it’s not safe for me, or him for that matter.
Regretfully, I shake my head. “I can’t.” I try to come up with a lie. “I have to meet my friends tomorrow morning. You remember where the door is, right?”
God, I am such a bitch! I know this because both his jaw and eyes turn hard.
Why do I care? I silently ask myself. I’ve never cared about kicking guys out before. Why is this one different? He’s a nobody. Just because he fucks like a god, doesn’t make him better than the others. Well, it makes him better in bed, but that’s it.
“So, that’s it? Wham, bam, thank you, sir?” he asks, his tone harsh. He doesn’t give me time to answer before he jackknifes off the bed and searches for his clothes. He yanks the condom off and stalks to the bathroom to dispose of it. Back in the bedroom, he slips his briefs and pants up his legs, leaving the button undone, before heading out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, following him into the living room where our discarded shirts are. I stop a couple feet away.
He turns once he picks his shirt up off the floor. The look he shoots at me has guilt eating away at my insides.
“No need to apologize, baby. We b
oth got what we wanted.” He slips his shirt over his head. “A free fuck for a free fuck, right? Maybe next time, instead of offering your services for free, you may want to think about upping your game. Your pussy’s worth anything you might charge.”
I suck in a sharp breath, hurt piercing my chest at his cruel words. Tears threaten to leak from my eyes, but I force them back. Guilt takes over the hard edges of his face. The asshole regrets his words, but it’s too late now. They’ve already been spoken.
My hand snakes out before I realize what I’m doing and lands a loud smack across his face.
“Get out!” I say loudly, my voice betraying me by cracking. My hand stings like a bitch, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. His head barely moves from my forceful slap, which pisses me off even more.
He takes a step toward me, but I move back two.
“Abby, I’m so—”
“Fuck you!” I snarl. “You don’t know me. You have no right to judge me. Now get the hell out!”
I thought he was different. I thought I felt something between us, but I should have known better. I should have gone with my first gut instinct from the other night. He’s just another asshole. He’s no different than any other judgmental bastard out there. If he ever knew the truth about me, he’d look at me with disgust and think me a whore, just like so many others. Hell, he’s already called me a whore once tonight.
He tries one more time to come to me, but I ward him off with a raised hand.
“Get the hell out of my apartment! Now!”
One hand reaches back for the handle and opens the door as he keeps his eyes on me. The impression of my fingers are starting to appear on his face. Oddly, it doesn’t give me comfort. I hold his stare, even though inside, I feel like I’m falling apart. Never has anyone’s words hurt me so much.
After watching me for several more seconds, he turns and walks through the door. Right before I stalk over and slam it in his sorry face, he says quietly, “I’m sorry.”
The loud bang of the door shutting bounces off the walls. I sag back against it, pissed at myself for letting him get to me.
Fucking jerk has no right to think he knows anything about me. He doesn’t know my situation. He doesn’t know what I go through on a daily basis. He has no fucking clue how hard I’ve fought with myself over my addiction.
I angrily snatch my shirt off the floor and stomp back to my bedroom, ignoring the pain that’s still lingering in my chest.
Chapter Four
Abby
