I have no fucking idea why I’m so pissed off, no clue why I’ve been tossing and turning the last week and snapping at everyone I come in contact with. I thought blowing off some steam in the weight room at the station would get me back on track and calm me the fuck down, but I’m pretty sure it just made things worse. With each upper cut to the bag, I see Phina’s neck and chest flushed that gorgeous color of pink after one of her orgasms. I slow down my punches to explore the memory, and then that smug bastard’s face pops into my head. I see her resting against his chest, I see his hands touching her body, I hear him whispering in her ear and my fists collide so hard and fast with the bag that I’m surprised I don’t break my knuckles.
“Motherfucking piece of shit!” I shout as I circle the bag and pound it with everything I’ve got. “Fucking asshole touching MY girl!”
That thought just pisses me off even more, and I stop where I’m at and let my arms fly. I alternate my punches with each hand, over and over until I feel the skin of my knuckles tear and still, I don’t stop. I picture Dax’s face in the middle of the bag and I attack it like a fucking beast¸ blood smearing all over the bag and my taped-up hands in the process. I shout and curse above the thumping bass and screeching guitar, wishing Dax really was standing in front of me right now so I could mess up his pretty fucking face. I’d break his nose, split his lip and knock out a few of those perfect white teeth for putting his hands on her.
I’m a goddamn hypocrite. She asked for something and I happily gave it to her, simply so I could have her. I didn’t care about her rules, I didn’t care about the consequences…I just wanted to taste her.
I’ve never been a jealous person. If I’m dating a chick and some guy makes a pass at her, I smile and wrap my arm around her, perfectly fine with the fact that other men find her attractive. She’s going home with me and that’s all that matters. I’m not even fucking dating Phina. One night, that’s all we had. One fucking night where she set the rules and the boundaries and I did whatever she asked because I couldn’t stand the thought of going one more minute without putting my hands on her. She keeps her underwear on at all times? No problem. It’s weird as shit, but whatever she wants is okay by me. She’s got a little voyeuristic streak and has always wanted another man in the room to watch? Perfect, I know just the guy. I can give her a shit ton of orgasms but I can’t fuck her? Fine, whatever. We never speak of what happened in her bedroom ever again? Well, alrighty then, my lips are sealed.
Except when they were sucking on her clit and devouring every inch of her sweet pussy…while Dax rubbed her shoulders.
“GODDAMMIT!” I shout, throwing one last brutal punch to the middle of the bag. My heart is beating so fast and I’m breathing so hard I almost feel like I’m going to fucking pass out. Bending over at the waist, I rest my hands on my knees and try to catch my breath.
The screaming beat of Dragula is immediately cut off and silence fills the room. I blink the burning sweat out of my eyes and turn my head to see Collin standing next to the stereo system.
“Jesus, man. Who the hell pissed YOU off?” he chuckles as he strolls over to the heavy bag and rests his hands on it to get it to stop swaying back and forth.
I probably should’ve gone for a run around my neighborhood or worked out with the equipment in my garage so I wouldn’t have been interrupted. My shift just ended an hour ago, and since the county ambulance transport unit where I’m currently working as a paramedic is connected to the fire station that has a state of the art gym, I figured there was no point in going home to punch my frustrations away. Judging by the look on Collin’s face, I should’ve gotten the fuck out of Dodge. He’s got that we should talk look written all over him. Now that he and Finnley are shacking up, he’s surrounded by estrogen day in and day out and he’s all about discussing his feelings and all that other bullshit.
“I’m not pissed off,” I tell him. “I’m just out of shape.”
Collin shakes his head at me as I push off of my knees and stand up, ripping the tape off of my swollen and bruised hands. “Nice try, asshole. You got blood all over my heavy bag. I hope you’re planning on cleaning that shit up.”
“Fuck off,” I growl, tossing the sweaty, bloody tape into the nearest garbage can, trying not to wince when I flex my fingers.
Shit, this is really going to hurt tomorrow.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll stick to fucking the gorgeous woman I have waiting for me at home,” he laughs.