Page 12 of Wreckage of My Life
“I brush them twice a day,” he chuckles and shrugs. “I floss and I use mouthwash. The works. Now you know,” he blows some smoke in my face when he says that, making me cough a little.
“That’s just not natural,” I insist.
We remain in a weird state of silence, just staring at each other for a couple of minutes. Well, I’m staring. He’s staring and also smoking, blowing sexy circles of smoke toward the sky.
Jesus, what is wrong with me that I find smoking sexy now? Disease. Think of diseases, Becca.
“I’ll walk you to your door.” He is finally done with his cigarette. He drops it and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his heavy looking boot, all while staring at me. I think I just came a little, damn it.
He completely surprises me when he bends down to pick it up and pushes it more into the sand on the sidewalk that’s decorating the ground along with some cactus like plants. He then walks it over to the trashcan where he throws it in the top dish that’s serving as an ashtray. I think I’m in love.
“Uh, you don’t need to walk me to my room.” At this point, it is mandatory that I step away from this man. I worry that if he goes upstairs with me, there’s a good possibility I may jump him.
“Nope, I don’t,” he agrees in his deep voice that does so many things to me. “But I’m gonna, anyway. Just in case there’s someone lurking on your way up there, waiting to kill you. Or worse,” he smirks when he throws my words from earlier back to me.
With my heart beating in my throat, I give him a weak smile. “Just in case.”
I turn to walk toward the front entrance of the hotel, his heavy boots echoing through the dark parking lot, matching the rhythm of my blood rushing through my body.
“What floor?” he asks when we are inside the elevator.
“S-second,” I stutter, then want to slap myself over it. What is going on here? I am acting like a damn virgin, which I most definitely am not.
He pushes the button that shows a two on it, and the elevator takes off at a crawl. I am standing on one side of the car, and Wrecker is on the other. We’re just staring at each other, neither one of us willing to break the silence.
I jump when the doors open with a ding, surprised that we finally made it to the second floor. He puts an arm out to keep the doors from closing back on us when I take too long to walk out, then follows me to the door to my room which is not very far from where the elevator is located.
“This is me,” I stop in front of it, flipping the electronic key card back and forth between my fingers. I feel all nervous and fidgety.
“Open it,” he instructs, and I follow his directive as if I’m hypnotized.
The lock beeps to signal it’s unlocked, so I press on the handle and open the door. I turn around, expecting Wrecker to be standing in the hallway, but he is right on my heels, stopping the door from closing.
“W-wrecker,” I whisper, and I wish I could say that it’s in distress. It’s not. At all.
He brings his head down, our faces close together, lips almost touching. My breath hitches in my chest, and I think I’m going to pass out if he doesn’t kiss me soon. No, I need him to devour me, not just kiss me.
“Ask me to stay,” he growls, eyes focused on my face.
I really don’t have a choice.
6
Wrecker
I don’t knowwhat it is about this chick that has me wanting to hang around. She is nothing like the women I usually congregate with. Actually, congregate is not a good word for it. The women I fuck, because that’s what’s gonna happen here in the next few minutes, no doubt about it.
“Stay,” she whispers.
That is what I need to hear, like we’re on a bad vampire show. I can’t come in unless you invite me in.
My lips drop to hers, her mouth opening in invitation. The groan of pleasure escaping the back of my throat takes me by surprise. In my world, kissing is not required. I’m gonna get my dick sucked or fucked no matter what, I don’t need to woo anyone. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time I kissed a woman.
I bring my hands up and wrap them around the back of this woman’s neck to keep her head steady. My thumbs press on her chin to open her mouth wider, and she just about inhales my tongue when she sucks on it.
With a start, I realize that I don’t even know her name. Not that I need it for what we’re about to do. Also, she doesn’t really know my name either, just my club name. That’s good enough for me.
“Wrecker,” she moans when I bring my head back to pull her top over her head. My eyes go straight for her tits. She’s got a great rack, all natural too from what I can tell. Since I’ve had my fair share of fake ones, I can appreciate a pair of good natural ones.
