Page 27 of Fetch

Her eyes light up as she grins. “What, like fated mates or something?”

I scoot closer. Now I can feel her body heat radiating. “Something like that. You never know.”

I take another step so she has to crane her neck to look up at me. Her thick lips glisten, salivating for more of me. Her eyes glaze with lust and drunkenness.

“Not sure if I believe in all that.” Roxy drops her gaze to my tattooed hands. She runs her finger over the black heart on my thumb. “Are you a hopeless romantic, Punk?”

Her touch sends an electric shock through my system. I have to use all my willpower to keep from pushing her back into that dark corner again. “Not hopeless.”

I lick my lips and glance down at the button of her jeans and then back up. “You’re really pretty, you know.”

Her body stiffens, and she takes a step back. “Don’t say that.”

My curiosity piques. “Why not?”

She bites her lower lip as she plays with the straw in her drink, swishing it around in circles. “It’s complicated. You’re like super-hot, and I already feel like I know you but… I have a situationship that I’m dealing with.”

I can’t keep the grin off my face. She’s trying to reject me because of her feelings forme. Well, a different me, but it’s hilarious all the same. I hold back my laughter. “I can respect that. He’s a lucky man, Roxy.”

She pinches her eyes shut and swallows hard before gazing back up at me. “You say my name like he does.”

Is she figuring it out? Impossible. There’s no way in hell she’s going to put this together. To her, the man standing before her is a celebrity she has a crush on, a man who she just happened to bump into. Twice.

But I can’t help myself. I lean in until my lips brush her ear. “Do you like the way it sounds in my mouth?”

Her breath hitches, and she grips the edge of the bar. “Y-yes,” she stammers. “It reminds me of him.”

I draw in a deep breath, savoring her peaches and cream scent. “Understood. It was nice to see you again… Roxy.”

I set my glass down on the bar and walk away, leaving her flushed and breathless. I’m so pleased with myself I could float on this new high. Because this kind doesn’t end up with me face down in a dirty toilet. This new addiction isn’t going to leave track marks on my arms. But I do hope she does leave scars on my body. I want her marks all over me so I can tattoo them there permanently.

The crisp air feels better than usual tonight. I ride through the back streets first and then make my way over to the ocean. The wind chops up the waves so hard I can feel the spray all the way from the road that runs along its rocky cliffs. I lick the salt off my lips with a smile. I wonder which persona of mine she’ll fantasize about tonight when she’s thrusting her vibrator in and out of her slick cunt. Maybe both.

By the time I get back to my penthouse, it’s almost two in the morning. But I’m wide awake, energized from the brief encounter with Roxy.

“Let’s see if anyone’s still up playing,” I mutter.

I turn on my console and headset and lean back against my leather sofa. My chat requests are numerous, as usual. I change my status to offline as I scroll through them or else I’ll get inundated with game invites.

My pulse quickens when I reach the bottom of the list. I lean forward and blink my eyes a few times. It’s a new message from JillChick22.She unblocked me. My fingers tingle as I click on her chat icon.

Pre cum oozes from the tip of my cock when I read her words. Holy fuck.

I’m “wearing” your gift, and I’m ready to play.

Everything throbs. My heart, my head, my pussy. Every. Thing. There are too many signs and coincidences. It’s like the universe keeps shoving me toward him. I need to keep going. My desire outweighs my fear.

Meeting Punk Wilder was not on my bingo card today. Running into him twice was fate. I’ve watched all his interviews and skate footage tons of times. And I saw him from far away once… Maybe that’s why he seemed so familiar to me.

He’s a cultural icon even despite his fall from grace. In person, he’s even more charismaticandhot as fuck. Something about him reminded me of Jack. Punk has the same cadence to his tone. The same raspiness. And he commands attention the way Jack does.

And so here I am, drunk as fuck, and waiting for Jack to see my message with that anal plug still wedged inside me. I had to coat it with lube three times before it slid in without hurting. The longer it was in, the more I stretched around it. By the time I left Push, the sensation was making my nipples hard and my pussy tingle.

At one point, I had to lock my legs together just to keep them from shaking. Fuck. I want to cum so fucking bad. And I want to hear Jack’s voice when I do.

I’ve been sitting erect on the edge of my couch with my legs locked at the knee since I got home at one a.m. After taking off my jeans and bustier, I decided to put on the nipple clamps as well.

I pour myself another glass of wine and try not to think about the wetness in my panties. I remind myself that Jack is a murderer, a stalker, and a stranger whose face I’ve never seen. But it’s not enough to keep my clit from spasming. There is something deeply wrong with me.

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