Black Obsidian(2)

A man squeezed into the bar beside me and brushed my shoulder. When it wasn’t Jackson, I gave him a terrifying glare. I hated being touched by anyone who didn’t receive my explicit permission—no matter how innocent their intention was.

He quickly scooted away, leaving an appropriate foot of space between us. He ordered a beer—a pussy drink. He wore a black suit that was poorly tailored and didn’t hide the imperfections of his weak shoulders and laughable build. This guy had done nothing egregious to me, but I despised him for that innocent touch.

The women’s conversation continued.

“Oh my god.” Her friend gasped quietly but was unable to cover it despite the constant chatter of the crowd.

“What?” She kept her voice strong rather than concerned. Again, she commanded the conversation with just her tone of voice. I’d never known a woman like that.

“That’s Dave.” Her friend dropped her voice low so no one could overhear them. I had to strain my ears and discreetly turn my head so I could pick up on what they were saying. Their conversation had nothing to do with me, and frankly, it wasn’t that interesting. But I loved hearing that woman’s voice. “I can’t believe he’s here. Probably picking up someone else while his wife is at home.”

“Are you fucking serious?” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down. “That two-timing shithead is here?”

“At the bar.”

Their conversation halted for nearly ten seconds.

“Where?” she demanded. “Which one?”

“He’s at the front in a black suit.”

My eyes discreetly glanced to the man beside me, knowing he must be the man they were discussing. A wedding ring was absent from his finger, and his eyes kept roaming down the bar to the women huddled near the end. He was definitely on the prowl tonight—no doubt about it.

I actually felt bad for his wife.

And I felt bad for whatever my obsession was about to do to him.

“What are you doing?” her friend asked.

“I’m giving that motherfucker a piece of my mind.”

I smirked, excited to see her in action. She would probably grab the guy by the shoulder and throw her drink in his face. Maybe I would get a waft of her smell. Maybe her delectable hip would press against mine.

“No, don’t—”

The sound of heels clanked behind me, and I knew she was just a foot away from me. This guy was about to get his ass kicked by a woman half his size. And he deserved it. I would stick around for the show. Now, I didn’t even care that Jackson was nearly half an hour late.

“Hey, asshole.” She grabbed me by the arm and yanked hard enough to get me to face her.

Disturbed by the uninvited touch, I immediately faced her and looked down into her expression. Green eyes, fierce with fire, looked back at me, and her lips pressed so tightly together they were nearly invisible. Her cheeks were flushed with rage, and her long brown hair was pulled over one shoulder, extending past her tits. Her blouse had a V-neck in the front, and I could see the small freckles that I wasn’t able to see before. Instead of telling her she had the wrong man, I stared at her in pure fascination. Up close, she was even more beautiful—absolutely fuckable.

She retracted her hand, and with lightning speed, slapped me so hard across the face I actually turned with the force. My neck snapped to the right, and my skin tingled from the collision of her palm against my face. Immediately, my skin burned from the heat of momentum, and the slap of our skin moving together echoed in the bar. My neighbors quieted down, watching the spectacle like a street fight as this woman charged me like a bull.

I turned back to her, and while the rage slowly burned inside my chest, I felt something else. My entire body tensed with the undeniable arousal that coursed through my veins. She hit me—and she hit me hard. That hatred and ferocity got my engine revving like I was about to enter a drag race. My cock was harder than ever before, and I couldn’t stop picturing her pinned underneath me as I fucked her until she screamed. She kept slapping me across the face as I pounded her into my mattress, losing the fight we both knew I would win.

Fuck, I was hard up.

Her eyes widened with hostility before that pretty little mouth of hers told me off. “You’re absolutely despicable and a sorry excuse for a man. You should be ashamed of yourself for cheating on your wife and for playing games with my friend. There’s a special place in hell for assholes like you.” She pulled her hand back and slapped me again, putting her entire weight into the collision. Another slap echoed in the bar, ringing loud in my ears. Everyone around us gasped as she laid it on me good.