“That plan is in motion, thank you very much.”
“Liar. You even brought the right condom size. Large.”
“Part of my job.”
“Passing out condoms?”
“Stopping my boss from polluting the world with his sperm.”
“Cum, Peaches. It’s called cum.” I wrap my fingers around her nape and pull her flush against me. “And you better be ready to choke on it after you cock-blocked me.”
“Moi?” She plays innocent even as her body quivers around mine.
My thumb finds her plump lips and I thrust inside. She darts her tongue around it, licking the sides and sucking on the single digit like it’s my cock.
Her eyes meet mine with a challenge mixed with a feral type of lust that turns me fucking insane.
The Sleeping Beauty syndrome has released my dick from its clutches and he’s currently upgrading to Hulk status.
Nicole grabs my wrist with both hands and bobs her head up and down, making a show of sucking my damn thumb.
What are the chances of it magically switching places with the other part of my body that’s in dire need of her technique?
“Better stop that if you don’t want to be fucked against the door.” I have the decency to sound casual, almost bored.
Nicole doesn’t take the bait, her eyes continuing to drill holes in my face and communicate something that should’ve been extinguished with the Nazis.
“Have you heard the part where I’ll fuck you, door style, without the exclusive clause?”
She releases my thumb with a pop. “You can’t touch other people anyway. Katerina is probably blabbing about the chlamydia episode to anyone that will listen. So I guess you’re stuck with me.”
“And you’d let me touch you with a supposedly STD dick?”
“You already passed it to me, so it doesn’t matter. Consider it pro bono for old times’ sake.”
“Maybe you’re the one who passed it to me.”
“Says who?”
“My medical report and the condoms I’ve never fucked without.”
“You fucked me without a condom.”
“Slipped my mind.”
“You wouldn’t let an ant slip your mind… Oh my God, you were too rattled by me, weren’t you?”
“Sorry to break it to you, love, but you don’t have a golden pussy.”
“No, it’s better. Made of diamonds, hard enough that they penetrated your steel-like control. Did it hurt?”
“What?”
“Wanting me and denying it?”
“No more than your twisted version of jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh, please. You just strapped an ‘I own you’ on me in front of Katerina and made sure she’ll talk about it.”
“I wouldn’t have had to go this far if you’d just said no other people. So I had to improvise and make it happen on my own. Now, you have no choice.”
I smirk and she stiffens. “Says who? I can always fuck escorts.”
“You…you’d rather pay whores than be exclusive with me?”
“Escorts, and yes. I don’t want to accidentally cut myself on your diamond pussy.”
A tremble overtakes her locked jaw and moisture gathers in her eyes, flooding the green like a deadly hurricane.
“Why?” Her question is a haunted whisper as she closes her hand into a fist and hits me with it across the chest. “Why them and not me?” Hit. “Why is it never me?” Hit. “No matter what I do, you don’t look at me.” Hit. “I’m right in front of you, why can’t you see me?”
Hysteria.
Breakdown.
Meltdown.
I’ve witnessed it in the courtroom when someone reaches their limits and their mind collapses.
When it gets to be too much and the only way out is losing their shit.
I just never thought I’d see Nicole in such a position.
She’s hitting anywhere and everywhere she can reach, her face a mess of snot and tears and sweat.
The worst part is, I don’t think she knows what she’s saying or doing anymore. Her eyes have turned glassy and she seems numb, like that time she begged me not to hurt her while I was fucking her.
“Nicole,” I call calmly, but she might as well be deaf.
I clasp both her wrists in one hand and push her until her back hits the door. “Nicole!”
“No, no, no…” she chants, her eyes staring right through me, and for the second time, I see fear in her gaze.
Raw, pure fear.
I’m about to let her go but think better of it. I’m such a lowlife for taking advantage of her weak moment, and God will probably call up Satan to dig me a lower hole in hell, but if I don’t do this, I’ll never know.
“Please…please…” she begs.
I tighten my hold on her wrists, grabbing her throat with my other hand. “Please what?”
“Don’t hurt me…I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to what?”
“Be a cock-tease, I didn’t mean to! Please, please…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
My jaw clenches and my hand trembles with rage. “What’s going to happen now?”
Her glassy eyes turn into a waterfall of tears as she murmurs, “You’ll hurt me…”
I know I’m the one who came up with this fucked-up idea and Satan is taking notes in the corner, but I wish the earth would crack and swallow me into its hell right this moment.
“Who am I?”
Her lips shake and tears stream inside her mouth.
“Who the fuck am I, Nicole?” I roar.
The name she whispers back smashes my world into bloody pieces.
21
NICOLE
AGE EIGHTEEN
What are the signs of “almost” losing it, discarding the “lucky” badge, and galloping to the sun on a faulty unicorn?
For weeks, I’ve been hanging on the edge that separates sanity from its more destructive antonym. Maybe years.
Is it too late to sign up for therapy?
On second thought, Mum will probably disown me, so that’s not an option for…a lifetime.
Unless I do end up revolving around the sun on my unicorn, after all, and get roasted alive.
Do they have a therapist in hell?
I have no doubt that I’m heading there on the expressway considering all the voodoo I’ve been doing in my head.
Every single imaginary spell is directed at the girls who keep hanging on to Daniel’s arm as if it’s made of gold.
It’s not.
He’s just a manwhore, and I hate that and him, and every girl who gets to touch him when I can’t.
Jealous much?
No, it’s way worse. I’m bordering on extremely obsessive.
It’s unhealthy, toxic, and all the other terms my imaginary therapist will have a field day with.
I did my research and it said that the best way to get rid of an unhealthy obsession is to stay away, exercise, and keep my mind preoccupied.
Done, done, and done.
Now, best of luck telling that to my wet dreams about Daniel.