Adrian's Wrath(4)

“Ohhh, yes. Please, harder, Adrian, harder.” Gritting his teeth, Adrian hated that she called him by his first name. He supposed it was a necessary evil, though. He didn’t disappoint her. He pumped faster, slammed his cock into her harder. He gave her what she wanted and more. When he was close, he pulled out and rolled with her so he was on his back. She straddled him backward so her ass faced him. Placing her pussy over his cock, she sank down on a moan. Her cunt wrapped around his cock snugly and he grunted in response. He had to give her credit. She knew how to work it. Swiveling her hips as she moved up and down, Adrian let his orgasm take him into oblivion. When big blue eyes flashed across his closed lids, his orgasm intensified.

Brea.

The moan that filled the room was loud and deep. It took him a moment to realize that the sound had come from him. The image of Brea flashed through his mind over and over again. His partner for the night gave one last high-pitched squeal and collapsed off of him and onto the bed. Neither of them moved for several long seconds, and when she had caught her breath she sidled up against him and started running her hands over his arms. No, he couldn’t do the whole cuddle thing after sex. He pushed her off and sat up on the edge of the bed. A light sheen of sweat coated him, and although a shower would have made him feel a lot cleaner and less like a prick, Adrian just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Hanging his head, he closed his eyes.

He made quick work of getting rid of the condom, putting his clothes on and heading toward the door. Hell, he would have worn himself out using Candy’s body, but the fact that he had thought about Brea while he had fucked someone made him feel like a dirty asshole. He might not know a whole lot about Brea, but what he had found out just intensified his need for her. The way she held herself, spoke, looked at him was so good and wholesome. She personified the word innocence. The idea that she could be a female he lost his heart to wasn’t so far-fetched. She was too good for him. Even though he had only spoken to her that one time, all those weeks ago, he knew that right down to his bitter black heart.

“What, you’re just going to leave?” He turned around before he opened the motel room door. She pushed herself up on the bed, her tits swaying minutely. “What, you’re one of those ‘fuck ’em and leave ’em’ type of guys?”

Why did it always have to end like this? “I didn’t promise you anything. When I brought you here you knew exactly what you were getting into.” She pouted more and gave a big huff.

“Well, I just thought we could go for round two. I mean, I know you have it in you.” One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose as she glanced down at his crotch.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” He opened the door and left. He always felt like shit afterward, but he would take that to gain a small moment of relief from the memories that haunted him. Because that one moment let him be free from the nightmare that made up what was left of his life.





Chapter Three




Brea closed the door behind her, reset the alarm, and tossed her purse onto the small wooden bench by the front door. The alarm beeped three times, alerting her to the fact it was set, and she let a relieved breath fall from her lips. This was how it was every night. Her fear kept a choke hold on her tightly, but it was that fear that kept her heart beating in her chest and the will to survive strong. Her routine was ultimately what would save her life if it came down to it. It was the only way she would allow herself to live. Pushing her negative thoughts aside, she knew she couldn’t let herself go there. Not right now.

Her feet ached horribly and she smelled like alcohol. It was bad enough working at the club, but when she constantly had drunks hitting on her, trying to grab her ass, and then spilling their beers all over her shirt, it made it ten times worse. She pulled the wad of cash out and let herself collapse on the bench. Unfolding the bills, she started to count her tips for the night. The majority were ones, but there were a few fives thrown in. Eighty-seven bucks—not too bad for a Wednesday night. She forced herself to get up and headed into the small kitchen. The light she turned on illuminated the yellow, fading linoleum and brown laminated cupboards. Her tiny green fridge was straight out of the seventies, but then again so was everything in this house. The rent was cheap and he wouldn’t think to look for her in such a rundown part of town if he found her. It gave her a small amount of safety, but what had sealed the deal was the alarm system that the landlord had installed. Apparently the majority of the houses on this street had one. The neighborhood didn’t frighten her. It was the other things in the world that did. She could handle a few misguided teenagers that liked to vandalize things if it meant he might not know where she was.