12. Selfish

SELFISH

I feellike shit the entire day. The entire meeting with the plumbing company had me wanting to end it all, but I somehow persevered.

I don't know why I took Penny to Calamity. After that funeral, I just wanted to feel alive, and not so alone. But as I head to pick up dinner, the feeling sinks in again.

Why can I only let my guard down when I've been piled with drinks or when I'm fucking a stranger?

It's all truly pathetic.

My number is called and I grab my bag of to-go food and head back to my car. And that's when I see her.

She's walking with her kids, who must be around eight and twelve, in my direction. She doesn't look any different. The same dark hair, same figure—same everything.

I feel like the universe is bending me over and fucking me in the ass as she notices me and sends her kids into the restaurant. The children who are exact clones of their mother look at me curiously before heading inside.

"Lincoln," she says softly.

"Vanessa." Her name tastes like ash on my tongue.

How was I so fucking blind? So self-absorbed that I didn't see the signs?

"I hope you're doing well."

She stands there confidently, like she didn't ruin my whole fucking life with lies. Her wedding ring is sparkling on her finger and my heart goes out to the bastard who chose to stay with her after everything.

I nod my head and go to skirt around her when she touches my forearm.

Her nails are painted a bright pink as I look down at where she's grabbing me. There's still resentment and anger when I glance back up to meet her eyes. The look she gives me is one of pity.

I wrench my arm away and she sighs.

"It's been four years, Linc. It was just a little fun."

I swallow, not knowing what to say. That isn't what she was to me. I mean, yes; we had a lot of fun. She was usually only available at certain times, and I didn't even consider that it was for nefarious purposes. I thought I liked that we had more time apart than together, but I still cared. I still wanted more.

She was the first woman who ever made me feel that way, and she destroyed me.

"It wasn't for me. You lied to me for two years, Vanessa."

The younger child opens the door to the restaurant and looks at his mom. "Mom, are you coming?"

"I'll be right there," she tells him.

"I mean it. I hope you're doing well," she says, touching my arm one more time.

She walks away like I mean nothing, which I suppose I don't. I was her boy toy vacation, a night away from her husband and kids once or twice a week. I wanted more; I wanted to be better for her, to settle down and maybe have a family of my own, but she couldn't commit.

It made me curious, and that's when I realized the last name she gave me wasn't her real last name and that I was her little toy. It was embarrassing. That I was stupid enough, blind enough, not to notice this woman had a whole fucking family already.

So I kept it in, didn't tell anyone while I tried to work on how I felt about it.

Four years later and I'm still bitter and holding a grudge, and it's not who I want to be.

She hurt me enough as it is. I can't keep living like this anymore.

I put the take out on the passenger's seat and blast the AC as I close my eyes and rest my skull against the headrest.

How fucking cliche? Becoming a workaholic, grumpy bastard after a woman breaks your heart.

I think about last night and how much I enjoyed myself. It's been a while since I went to Calamity, but I've never had that much fun. There wasn't any pressure to be a certain way. My guards were down. I hate that it took so much alcohol to get me there, but fuck, I felt good.

I rub my temples with my fingers and groan. No more overthinking shit, just do what feels good.

I log into the Avalon app and request another meeting with Honey. It's probably not a healthy response to seeing Vanessa, but right now, I don't really give a fuck.

Aiden,of course, asked me what I was doing tonight, and I stupidly mentioned Avalon.

So now, here I am, in the main area of Avalon, when I have somewhere very fucking important to be in the next—I look down at my watch and sigh—forty-five minutes.

"Why are you sighing and shit? You're the one who said you were already coming here."

I shrug, and Aiden narrows his eyes at me.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know what you mean?" I easily lie.

"Yeah, alright. Let's act like I haven't seen you at the main club, yet you continue to mention how you're coming here. Or the way you keep checking your watch. Holy shit, are you seeing someone at Avalon?" he asks.

Oh, if only it was that simple.

How do you tell your brother that you're pinning over a woman you don't know, haven't spoken to, but could draw her pussy from memory?

What if she's here now?

I look around the room, looking at the different single women sitting around.

"You are waiting for someone," he says.

"Maybe I am."

"Never thought I'd see the day, to be honest. Who is she?" he asks.

It's then he glances over, his jaw slacked as a pretty woman with dark hair sits on one of the cushioned couches, sipping her drink.

"Her," I say, nodding my chin in her direction.

"You're full of shit. Stop fucking with me, Linc."

"What do you mean?"

"That's Collin's daughter, Jessa."

He says it and doesn't look away from the pretty brunette. He likes her, and it's going to really suck if she also turns out to be Honey.

"Excuse me," I say, nudging his shoulder and he grabs my arm.

"Do not fuck with me, Linc."

I give him a grin, noting that either way, this is going to be enjoyable. He lets go of my arm as I approach the woman in question.

"May I take a seat?" I ask, even though my ass is halfway to being sat already. I glance over at Aiden, who is red in the face.

"Of course." She gestures to the seat and I give her a warm smile.

"Lincoln," I say, holding out my hand. She shakes it, her hand soft.

"Jessa."

"I haven't seen you here before," I say, and she laughs. Is the laugh because she's currently using glory holes or something else?

"I'm here for the tour and to possibly join," she says, and I realize she's not Honey. Regardless, I take this moment to fuck with my brother. I haven't seen him get so irritated over a girl before.

"Is there anything I could do to sway your decision?" I ask.

"I have pretty strict rules being a visitor," she jokes and I can see Aiden already approaching us, his face nearly red with irritation.

"There are so many ways to make you come without fucking you, sweetheart," I say, and her throat bobs.

"That's true. What would you suggest?"

What a little minx. No wonder Aiden is torn up over his dead bff's daughter. She's a bit too sweet for my taste, but for Aiden? If he can get over himself, she might be just what he needs.

"I could—" Aiden grips me by my lapels.

"I'm going to kick your fucking ass later," Aiden whispers in my ear, and I smirk at Jessa. Oh, poor man has it down bad. I guess I'm not one to judge, considering I'm currently obsessed with a woman I met at a glory hole.

"I could… just head over and get a drink. Nice speaking with you, Jessa," I say to her, giving my brother a wink and I can tell he wants to probably hit me. It's too easy getting him riled up.

But with him occupied by his little crush, it gives me plenty of time to head to the Key Club and wait for my code to enter.

I do have to leave the building and head around back to wait at the entrance.

It's been running through my head how unhealthy this all is, but I don't care.

After seeing Vanessa, all I want to feel is the simple release that the Key Club and Honey brings me.

I rest my forehead against the door, realizing my fucking solace is a hole in a wall—literally.

My phone vibrates with the code and I input it. The door whirls. I leave my phone at the entrance before turning the knob to the heart room.

It would probably be cleaner, less attachment, if I took her to the other room. But I find myself craving what little intimacy we can get in this situation.

I chalk it all up to having what I can't have.

Surely I'm not wanting something more outside of the Key Club?

A groan escapes me when I see what's waiting for me. Honey's perfect ass and pussy are on display, but she's wearing tights that are stretched over her skin.

She wants me to rip them apart and take what I want.

Fuck.

This woman was made for me, yet a wall separates us.

I drag a fingertip along her stockings, the touch nearly feather light. Just enough to let her know that I'm in the room and plan on toying with her.

There's this feral part of me that wants to drag her ass through this wall and fuck her on the floor while she looks at me and knows exactly who fucks her the way she needs. It's evident she needs this as much as I do.

Two peas in a very fucked-up pod.

I press my palm against her stocking-covered cunt, feeling how wet she is with anticipation.

How could she possibly know how much a pair of stockings would turn me on? I mean, of course, there's my extensive profile, but this wasn't on the list.

I press my palm harder against her pussy, almost like I'm physically showing her that it belongs to me.

Which it fucking does.

At least when we're inside of these walls—she belongs to me.

I should be thinking about what I want outside of this room and club. But I'm mesmerized by her body as I grab two sides of her stockings and rip them down the middle. She flinches, and the nylon stretches against her skin, nearly digging into her soft flesh.

Her pussy and tight little hole are exposed. Wetness is already dripping out of her entrance and I use my fingers to collect her arousal and slide it over her needy clit.

Is this the highlight of her week? Has she been thinking about how my hands feel on her constantly?

If she hasn't, I plan on fucking her so good she doesn't leave this room without the painful reminder of how well fucked she is.

I may have denied her last time, but this time we're going to aim for over abundance. At least as much as I can give her without being able to see her reactions or hear her voice. Fuck, how am I wanting more with this woman?

With a hand on the wall, I steady myself down to my knees and grip her rounded ass with both hands before I devour her clit.

The nylons digging into her skin are an addictive sensation and I use my fingers to slide under the black material, getting closer to her skin.

My lips wrap around her clit with my only focus being making her come all over my face.

Deep down I want her hands tangled in my hair and the sounds of her moans spurring me on.

The only thing I have to go off of is the way her cunt is dripping down my chin and her ass shaking in pleasure. But I want more.

I want to know what color her eyes are, and watch them roll back into her head when she comes on my tongue.

My fingers leave her nylons alone to finger her pussy while I lavish her with my tongue.

She tastes just as I remember, and I know there's no trying to hold back this infatuation anymore.

I curl my fingers inside of her and there's a bang against the wall before her cunt is clenching around my fingers and her taste is filling my tongue.

Typical, selfish me, I want more. And thankfully, she agreed to no condom tonight.

Her pussy is fluttering, and she's dripping from her entrance to her ass. I want to fuck her there, but I don't have the patience or the consent right now.

I use the wall for purchase as I fist myself, sliding the head of my cock up and down her slit, drenching myself with her cum—wishing there was no barrier between us.

When I slide into her warm, wet center, all I can think about is how badly I want to fist her hair and look into her eyes while she takes me. There's this incessant need that's festering of wanting to know who she is, but more than anything, wanting her to know I'm the only man who can give her what she needs.

We don't need a wall for me to bring her fantasies to life—not anymore.

I'm deep inside of her, my pelvis pressing against her round, firm ass as I use my thumb to rub her clit.

Her cunt is fluttering around my length and I know I'm not going to last long. The music in the room is loud and I wish I could shut it the fuck up just to get a glimpse of how she sounds while she comes.

Does she whimper? Is it more of a light moan or a scream?

I've never given much thought to the noises someone makes when they fall apart, but I find myself wanting to hear just exactly how I shatter my mystery woman.

My balls are tightening as my hips slap against her soft flesh and my wet fingers strum against her clit, needing her to come again.

I need her to want me—I need to know I'm not alone in this fucked-up madness.

Her pussy milks my cock and I fall apart, slamming into her, fucking her through her orgasm.

The music shifts to another song and there's a low moan through the wall. I rest my head against the barrier between us as I spill inside of her, immediately craving more.

QR code for a NSFW visual of this scene