CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE DASH

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DASH

I knock another shot of tequila back before I slam it onto my kitchen counter. I wipe the remaining dribble off my chin roughly with the sleeve of my shirt.

"Maybe she didn't mean it?"

I look over at Blake standing beside me. I yank the note out of his hand, wad it up, and turn to toss it in the trash. "She meant it."

"It was kinda vague," he offers. "I mean, that could have meant anything."

"Anything?" I turn to face him. Once again, I had woken up by myself after a night with her. At least this time she left me a fucking note. A note stating she left me. "I think it was pretty clear."

He sighs. "I just think that she needs some time. Things were moving pretty fast with you guys."

"How was that fast?" I mean, we might have feelings for one another, but we haven't even voiced them out loud.

"I'm just trying to help you."

"Then shut the fuck up," I bark.

He reaches for the tequila bottle and pours me another shot. I down it before he can even put the bottle back on the counter. I spin around and walk toward my bedroom as I pull my phone out of my back pocket. Dialing her number, I slam my door shut.

"Tabatha. Call me back as soon as you get this." I pull the phone away from my ear and press end after leaving a message. Of course, it went straight to voicemail. Tabatha has turned off her phone. I'm not surprised. I should have never gone along with this damn party. Even Blake hasn't heard from Jackie. The girls are probably hiding out somewhere, or for all I know, they are out getting drunk themselves. I wonder if she's as drunk as I am. I'm feeling pretty damn bulletproof.

"What?" I snap when I hear a knock on my door. I don't want to listen to any more of Blake's bullshit excuses.

It opens slowly, and I give a satisfied smirk when Valerie peeks her head in. The party has been in full swing for two hours now, but I never doubted for a second that she would show. I knew that she would make an appearance, making sure to show off her only assets.

And she didn't let me down, either. She's wearing a white shirt that is so small it should be on a child. It has a deep V cut that shows off her big fake tits. Her skinny jeans look like they took some work getting into and her red heels top it off with some color. Black eyeliner lines her eyes a little thicker than usual. She looks like a cheap hooker that wouldn't cost me more than fifty dollars. It's sickening, and yet, I still find her somewhat attractive. Or at least my cock does.

"Blake said that you were in here," she declares, still standing outside of my room.

"Come in," I say nicely, and she frowns. I lick my lips, and I barely feel it. The tequila is doing its job. I didn't start drinking for courage to ask Valerie about the bike. I started drinking because of what Tabatha chose to do to us. And I hate to admit how fucking pissed I am at her for that. After everything I've said to her, she still doubted me. That stings.

She closes the door behind her, and I make my way over to her. "Having a party and didn't invite me?" she asks with a lifted dark brow.

I'm not in the mood for games. I place my hand on her chin and slam her backward into the door. She sucks in a deep breath. My next thought is that she's probably getting wet. She always liked rough sex. That's why it was so fun to fuck her. She would let me use her however I wanted. And usually that was like trash. If she only knew that I wasn't role-playing.

"Let's get one thing straight," I say leaning my head down to hers. "You fucked with my bike."

Her eyes widen, and she goes to push me away. I tighten my hand on her chin and her knees buckle. She closes her eyes tightly, and she sucks in a breath.

"I already know that you did it," I growl. "But why? Why would you do it?"

She tries to shake her head, but my grasp on her chin prevents it. "Why?" I scream in her face. The tequila coursing through my veins and the hatred that I feel for her makes me want to hurt her. While it also makes me want to rip that tiny little shirt off and fuck her.

I release her face and take a step back from her. I will do neither of those things. But God, it would feel so good.

"I'm so sorry," she cries. She allows her buckled knees to take her to the floor. She holds her head in her hands and she cries louder.

"Why would you do that?" I demand once again.

She cries loudly for a few seconds, and I roll my shoulders. Calm down, Dash. I need answers. I know how dramatic she can get. I'll get nowhere if we continue this way.

I take a deep breath and run a hand over my face. God, I could use another shot. Her soft sobs get my attention. Leaning down in front of her, I place my hands in her hair and gently lift her head to look up at me. "Tell me, baby," I coo. "Were you just jealous?" I ask smoothing the hair from her tear-streaked face.

She nods and my jaw tightens. I relax it just as quickly, not wanting to show her the madness that I feel. I have to play her. "What were you jealous of?" I ask trying to sound like I truly fucking care.

"Her," she whispers. "Mr. Knight's daughter. I know you like her."

"I don't like her." I love her!

She swallows thickly and licks her plump red lips. Even they look bigger than they used to. "I'm so sorry, Dash. I just wanted to get your attention. I never thought you would get hurt." She hangs her head.

"Thankfully, I didn't," I growl. But I've lost Tabatha because of her stunt. That's right, Dash. She dumped you. You're free to fuck whomever you want. My cock thickens.

"I love you," she whispers. "I know you say that you don't love me anymore, but we were still spending time together and you would call and text me." She pauses. "But after your party, you stopped. I know you were with her that night. I know the calls have stopped because of her."

"How do you know that?" She wasn't there. Was she?

"It doesn't matter," she answers through her tears.

I sigh heavily. What the fuck do I do now? Valerie has proven to be a threatening psychopath if she doesn't get what she wants. And Tabatha has left me.

I sit down on the floor and run a hand through my hair. I close my eyes and my body sways. Thank God, I'm sitting down. My state of drunkenness is getting worse by the second.

Valerie's crying has quieted and I hear the commotion in front of me. "Dash?"

I open my eyes and look up to see Valerie now standing in front of me. She's no longer crying. It's like a faucet she can just turn off. I sit speechless on the floor as she lifts her shirt up over her head. I swallow nervously when she reaches behind her back and unclips the tan bra that was trying to hold in her big tits. The alcohol and my cock remind me how much fun those big bastards were to fuck. To suck on. To come all over.

I shake my head. "I can't." Even my voice sounds pathetic.

She doesn't care what I have to say. That's the thing about an ex. They know exactly what to say, what to do, in order to get what they want. Hell, I was just doing it with her. And now she's doing the same thing to me.

Her hands lower to her skinny jeans and she undoes the button. The sound of the zipper is almost deafening even with the sound of the party in the background. My heart is pounding and the alcohol burns my insides.

She steps out of her jeans, slowly allowing my eyes to enjoy the show. I was always attracted to her body. The soft curve of her hips. The way she would sigh or scream when I fucked her. Everything about her but her actual face could turn me on.

Without thought, I stand and place my hands on her naked hips. My fingers dig into them on their own accord. I push her in the door once again and her breath hitches.

"I want you, Dash. It's been too long." Her hands find their way into my hair.

She pulls my lips down to hers, but at the last second, I let go of her hips. Grabbing both of her hands, I pin them above her head. Her tits press against my chest as she arches her back and whimpers.

I can't do this. I want Tabatha back. How would I prove to her that I'm worthy of her if she hears about this? And she will hear about it. That's only why Valerie is doing it. She already confessed that she thinks I like her. What would she do if she knew the truth? But Tabatha left me! She doesn't want me.

"Fuck me," she says breathlessly. "Please. Fuck me," she begs, and my cock jerks. I've been drinking; that's what makes me want to fuck her. If I were sober, I could walk away from her—it wouldn't matter if she were naked or fully clothed. It's just the alcohol talking.

"Valerie…"

She leans in and her lips land on mine. My hands tighten around her wrists in anger as I hold them above her head. She gasps into my mouth from the pain. Without thought, my lips close around hers. I don't kiss her; I fucking dominate her—my body roughly pinning her against the door and my hands holding her wrists. My mouth takes hers over. Her hips press into my aching cock. Her body trembles as she moans into my mouth. She's not fighting. She wants me to have my way with her. And the best part is that she isn't bitching. She fully submits her body to me, and that's what I always fucking craved with her.

I could never be this way with Tabatha. She's strong. Even when we have sex, I hold back what I fully want to do with her. I give Tabatha the control. This is where Valerie allows me to be a man. Take what I want, as dirty as I want, and she doesn't judge me. What would Tabatha think of me if I asked to fuck her like a cheap whore? If I wanted to make her weak in order to feel powerful?

Walk away? She's walked away from me twice now. Why not take what's right in front of me?

Making up my mind, I let go of Valerie's wrists and pull away from her. Breathing heavy, I grab her arms and yank her down to her knees. She falls hard and whimpers from the force.

"Show me."