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I tilt my head at him, fucking confused as fuck. "What are you talking about, Ink?"
He clears his throat, "I just left our distraught mother because you refused to even look at her at the BBQ. Stormy's pissed and is ready to come over here and kick the shit out of you, and to be honest, brother, I'm having to restrainmyself from punching you. She wanted to meet Mel but couldn't because she left; she said you purposely got your girl to leave."
Fucking Leslie again.
I slowly stand before placing my palms on my desk, leaning on them, and sneering at my blood brother.
I've already told him to stay out of this shit, and yet again, he's decided to get involved because Mommy dearest has decided to bullshit. Leslie is playing them like a fucking fiddle. "I never fucking told Melanie to leave the fucking BBQ twenty minutes into the event, Jackson. I had just told her that Butch was her biological father, and Hazel had offered the man she thought was her dad $100,000 for custody of her. It's how her dad found out she wasn't his, and coincidentally, he left that same year. She needed time, and I don't fucking blame her one bit."
I lean forward while his eyes are wide with shock. Yeah, that's how we felt too. "And tell me something, brother, why is she inconsolable two weeks fucking later? I don't know what her fucking problem is or what her game is, but she's playing you both like fucking fiddles and if Stormy wants to kick the shit out of me, then let him fucking try because I'm not a little boy anymore. I'll fight back, and I'll make sure to fucking kill him." He looks at me with furrowed brows before I sit back down. "Do me a favor, Jackson, and fuck off out of my office."
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs before getting up and heading to my door. "She's our mom, Trav; you can't keep treating her this way. Would it really be that hard to just have a dinner with her and introduce her to the woman you want?"
I just snorted; that's twice he's said it now. "Nah, she's your mom; my momma's dead, and my mom, I see her every Sunday for dinner."
With that, he growls before leaving my office and slamming my door.
I shake my head, my frustration growing and memories from my past flittering. Their touch is burning through me, making my body itch, and I grab my phone again, trying to ring my girl, but she doesn't answer, and I growl, slamming my phone down before there's a knock on my door.
"WHAT."
The door opens, and in walks a dressed-up Clitter, or, in her case, dressed down.
She smirks at me as I admire her outfit. The dress is tied with three bows on either side, barely covering her bare pussy, and my cock grows in my jeans. I can't fucking help it. I haven't had sex in months, and I need a distraction.I need these memories gone. I need their touches off of my skin, and there's only one way I know how to rid myself of them.
"Hey baby, I heard you quite frustrated, so I thought I'd come and relieve you."
I sit back down and tilt my head as her brown eyes sparkle with lust, heightening my own.
I know I shouldn't; this is the one condition my girl gave me—no other women. I should tell her to fuck off, but Melanie isn't answering her phone. Inks pissed me off and inadvertently brought back my past horrors, and my dick is hard as fuck since she walked in here dressed like that. I need to forget; I need to be in control, so instead of telling her where to go and trying to find my girl, I make the biggest fucking mistake of my life and open my legs wide for her to kneel in front of me while she grins wide, doing as I want.
She goes to run her palms along my jean-covered thighs before reaching my zipper, where my rock-hard cock is, but I stop her. She knows the rule: no fucking touching. Instead, I grab her hand and place it on my cock through my jeans, making her rub it, causing me to groan out loud.
Fuck, that feels good.
I lean back, relaxing as she removes my cock through the zipper hole, cold air hitting it before she circles the head with her tongue, sucking it gently into her mouth before deep-throating me while swallowing at the same time. I grab her bright blonde hair tightly,
"Fuck, that's it, my little whore; fucking suck me hard," I grunt while she moans around my cock.
She sucks me hard, moving her head up and down, and I slowly close my eyes, tilting my head back, loving the sensation of her warm, fucking mouth. I open my eyes when I hear a soft click of the door after hearing a gasp, but no one's there. I look down at Clitter to see she's looking back at me with triumph, which is fucking odd, but I ignore it and grip her hair tighter before I start to fuck her mouth.
I moan while she rubs her legs, "Fucking finger yourself; make yourself cum while I paint your fucking throat." She closes her eyes and groans while doing as I ask, starting slowly first before speeding up her movements. I grunt as she comes, her moans vibrating around my cock.
One, two, three more thrusts down her throat, and I cum with a groan, closing my eyes while keeping her head still so she can swallow it all.
Fuck me.
I needed that.
I pull out of her mouth and put myself away while she smirks at me. She stands before going to touch me again, but I stop her and raise a brow. She pouts but nods her head before standing. It was then that I noticed her cum dripping down her leg, and I smirked before leaning forward. I rub my fingers through it, then place them at her mouth.
She opens and sucks my fingers clean of her juices.
She moans, then rasps, "Thanks, baby," before turning around and leaving, and I furrow my brows, my brain catching up.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
What the fuck did I just do?
