Page 33 of Intoxicated
“How many dumb women are out there, exactly? Because it seems common sense to do the slightest bit of Googling into someone you intend to date these days. What, do you think I go home with any ol’ Tinder date, fuck him bareback, and let out ael oh el whoops!when I’m fucked over?”
“I don’t know about what you do with your pussy exactly, which is why I’m here…” Drew lets the glass door swing shut behind him. Now’s my chance to high-tail it for the bus stop, but I’m inexplicably attracted to the knob standing beneath the green awning. He looks like a common Portlander who takes semi-care of himself. Nice jeans, tight T-shirt, fairly groomed with brown peach fuzz, and his hat doesn’t look like it was picked up out of the gutter. Still not my type, but I don’t feel like I want to throw water on him. Too bad I know who he really is. Itreallymakes me want to throw water on him. “You might be surprised how hard it is to find that information about me. I have many layers of protection for my privacy. Did you hire a detective? Because one with loose morals may be able to find that all out in one weekend.”
I snort. “What do you think?”
He says something I am not expecting. Let alone with such a soft, understanding voice. “I think you’re a guarded woman who doesn’t take chances. You’ve got enough money from your past relationships to hire a good PI to look into me. In retrospect, I should’ve anticipated it and acted accordingly. Instead, I let my dick do the talking, and now I’m out a few grand.”
Wish I could say this should be the end of it, but if Jason were mad enough to hire this fuckboy to break my heart – and my loins, probably – I can only imagine who he would go to next. He’s probably on the Deep Web right now hiring infected bug chasers to seduce me and give me God knows what. The kind of “God knows what” a condom will never protect me against, since we both know I’ve learned my lesson now.
Or he’ll straight up hire a hitman. One never knows these crazy days.
“You want a medal or something?”
“No.”
‘You think you’re gonna apologize to me?”
“Why would I apologize? I was doing my job. I’ve never apologized to the women I was hired to get back at.”
I shake my head. “You’re disgusting. What kind of creep goes into your line of work? I learned a few things about you.” My accusatory finger comes right for his chest. I don’t dare touch it, though. His chest is so nice I’ll probably hop up and hump it if I’m not careful. “Some of the women you fucked with have serious issues now. Did you know one tried to kill herself?”
“There’s no correlation between me and that.”
“So you know?”
“Of course I know,” Drew all but snaps. “What? You want me to feel bad about it? Like I said, there’s no direct correlation between…”
“Shut up. You’re a scumbag, you know that?”
He dares to take one step forward. Here we are, standing in the parking lot of a sexual health clinic, about to have the kind of altercation that would get the cops called on us. He’s definitely about to get banned from the premises. If I’m lucky, I won’t be caught up in his storm.
The closer he gets, the more I shudder. Don’t tell me it has anything to do with how he makes me feel – sexually, that is. Because this guy doesn’t deserve that kind of response from me. He deserves a slap to the cheek and a kick to the balls.
“Do you really think you’re that much better than me?” he growls right into my ear. Okay.Okay.So I’ve got a few extra shudders from that, but I shall contain them. I won’t give him the satisfaction of turning me on again. “Besides, if I’m such a scumbag, what does it mean that you come storming into my apartment and fuck me dry?”
“That was…” I sputter, my throat as dry as his balls had been when I was finished with him. “That wasdifferent.”
“I mean, I get that we have this undeniable chemistry.” Although Drew doesn’t touch me, I feel his skin against mine. That’s how close he is. That’s how tactile my memory is. “But I would think if you found me so abhorrent, you’d run away from me instead of always coming soooo much closer.”
“What?” I snap back. “You think I want to still fuck you? You’re delusional. I’d rather be celibate for the rest of my life than hop on your dick again.”
“Who says you’d be hopping on it? I was thinking piledriver. You’regorgeouson the other end of a piledriver.” His fuzz grazes my chin. I can smell his breath. Every drop of heat within me rushes straight to my pussy.
I hate him.
“Cupping your tits while I use your cunt all night long. I’ll let you scream all you want, too. I like it when you let me know how much you like it.”
My hand pushes his face away. I had meant to slap him. Instead, he gets a forceful nudge. Either way, there’s no way in hell he gets to see the color touching my cheeks. I won’t give him that satisfaction. I won’t.
“I’m not a conquest,” I hiss, fire burning inside my belly. I swear it’s not lust. It’s anger. Seething, reeling anger that wants to burn him alive. I feel like I did when I went to his place last Tuesday. Ready to kill him. Instead, I fucked him. I dared him to fuck me. I dared him to come inside me. In my defense, he didn’t exactly say no to either. He wanted it as badly as I did. “You don’t get to fantasize about all the sick shit you want to do to me. I don’t care if you’re the second coming of a sex god. You don’t get to do that with me.”
“So what do we call it when Idoget to fuck you?”
“First of all!” I raise my voice. “You don’t get to do it again! Second, we can agree that it was something we should not have done and move on. Just… leave me alone, okay? I don’t need your shit. You clearly don’t want my shit. Go back to your job of driving women to severe depression because you’re a sick fuck who gets off on it. God knows you don’t need the money.”
“How do you know that?” he asks. “You don’t know anything about my personal financial situation.”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
