She looked at me. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m fucking serious. Doesn’t matter now anyway.”
“It matters.”
“Only thing that matters is how badly I want that pussy of yours,” I said. “I’ve been sitting here thinking about how I’d make you have the sweetest orgasm of your life right here on this couch.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“I’d rather you be full of me.” I moved closer to her. “I think you’d rather that too.”
She stood up quickly. I saw her glance down at my hard dick, straining against my jeans, and the red blush that jumped onto her cheeks only made me that much harder.
“No, thanks,” she said. “If you don’t care about what happened, then I don’t care about this.”
“Pretend all you want, princess,” I said, “but I know how badly you want that wet cunt sliding down my hard cock. I’ll fuck that pussy like you’ve never been fucked before.”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t. Any time you want this cock deep in that tight cunt of yours, you let me know.”
She made a face, turned, and marched into my bedroom, slamming the door.
I chuckled to myself and chugged the beer. I got up and grabbed another one.
I was still hard as fuck, but that was going to have to be okay. She’d come around eventually.
And when she did, she’d understand what she’d been missing all these years.
Chapter Fifteen: Caralee
I sat in Ford’s bedroom, my pussy soaking wet, trying to get his words out of my head.
He left you. You can’t forget that, I kept thinking over and over.
I couldn’t give him another chance. I’d learned that the hard way in my life. You let a man fuck you over once and he’d keep doing it, again and again. That was just his nature.
Ford had fucked me over back then. Got my hopes up, got my body interested, my mind interested, and then he just disappeared. I wasn’t going to make the same stupid mistake, no matter what he was doing for me.
I sighed, frustrated beyond belief. I wanted to sit out there and have another beer, but he seemed so incapable of having a normal conversation. Besides, seeing my apartment torn to shreds had really shaken me to my core.
I knew bad guys were out there looking for me. I wouldn’t have put myself through everything so far if I didn’t really believe that. But actually seeing my apartment in that state really hammered home the fact that I was wanted by some very, very bad people.
I flipped open my laptop and began to scroll through Facebook. I had a couple hours to kill, and so I began to lose myself in mindless social media—the best cure for stress.
Over an hour slipped away like that, but I soon found myself bored to tears. It sounded like Ford was watching football in the other room.
It felt weird to be alone in his bed. I looked around the room for the first time, really taking it in. He had no family photos or anything like that, which didn’t surprise me. The decorating was simple, rustic. He had knives on his dresser and what looked like a crossbow in the corner. There were deer antlers on the wall, which creeped me out, but at least it wasn’t a full deer head.
I got up, curious. His room was almost too plain, as if he had gone through the trouble of keeping anything too personal out of there. I knew I shouldn’t snoop, but I couldn’t help myself.
I pulled open a drawer. It was full of socks. I dug around a little bit, and I let out a small yelp when I found a stash of condoms.
Shaking my head, I quickly shut the drawer and bit my lip. Why did he need so many condoms? Was he really sleeping around as much as Janine said he was?
I understood if it was true. It was easy to see why women would go for him. Hell, I was having a hard time keeping my hands off him, and I had more reason to stay away than most people did. His cocky smile, his dirty talk, it was all incredibly hard to resist.
I didn’t know how I felt about any of that. I shouldn’t have felt anything, but I kept coming back to it for some reason. I had no real claim over him, and we weren’t really getting married for real. Or at least we didn’t really have feelings for each other.
And yet just thinking about him made me wet.
I heard the door open and my head jerked over. “Busy?” he asked.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming into my damn bedroom.”
“You need to knock.”
He grinned. “I need to knock on my own bedroom door?”
“On my bedroom door,” I corrected.
He just shook his head and walked inside. “I’m getting changed and then we’re leaving. Got your meeting soon.”