Chapter 16

16

Colver

I drive fast.

Too fast for being in the city.

I'm the asshole darting in and out of traffic, hoping to get home faster than everyone else. It makes it even worse that I'm in a lumbering pickup truck.

As I blast through a yellow light turning red, I see from the corner of my eye a woman at the corner pushing a baby in a stroller.

For some reason that's my sudden wake-up call.

I lay off the gas, touch the brakes, and drive the speed limit for the rest of the ride home.

To my building.

To the underground garage.

This time, Abrielle isn't there, jumping in front of my truck.

Doesn't mean she isn't plastered all over my fucking mind.

The stuff I said about her being like her mother. Me being like my father.

It's all true.

Maybe that was too harsh to say.

A least Abrielle is doing something with herself.

Am I an expert on paintings? Fuck no. I probably couldn't tell the difference between a real painting and some canvas shit you find at a store for ten bucks.

I'm not going sit here and claim that Abrielle's art touches my soul or changed my life.

I just carried the fucking paintings out of that gallery and into her apartment.

Point I'm making, at least she has talent and can function with it.

Now, her choice in mixing business and men…?

Well, that's just stupid.

I live with the same kind of inherited stupid when it comes to women.

Nobody makes it past one night with me.

I refuse to walk in my father's footsteps with having a high-priced divorce attorney as my main contact.

So, yeah, you know what?

It all fucking worked out just fine.

I got to see Abrielle again. That's never a bad thing in a small dose.

A night up at my cabin, escaping the city.

The morning with her.

The sex…

Fucking hell. What a body, huh? As soon as she found the way to handle my cock, forget about it. She was moving like a ship in a hurricane.

I don't even know what the hell that last thought is supposed to mean.

As soon as I get into my place, I go right for a drink.

A tall glass. No ice.

One big gulp.

Let it all go right to my head and my nerves and settle this shit down once and for all.

You paid one hundred grand to fuck your former stepsister…

That thought makes me drink faster. Harder.

Because this is not the truth at all. That's not the fucking case at all.

Abrielle and I were never… like that …

No. No fucking way.

There were no family dinners. No family events.

For fuck's sake, my father was married to her mother for a fucking month. If that.

Me stepping in when Abrielle called that one night…

"Fuck," I growl.

I finish my drink.

I close my eyes.

I picture Abrielle's tits.

Her perfect fucking tits.

In my hands. In my mouth.

"Fuck," I growl once more.

I think of her sweet cunt.

Swollen and pink. Plump and sexy… after fucking her…

I reach for the bottle to pour another drink.

I freeze halfway.

She offered me a blow job.

It was just a joke.

What if it wasn't?

That mouth of hers. I've already felt it.

I could have felt it again…

Now I'm thinking crazy.

Worse yet, my cock is achy and getting hard.

I walk into my bedroom and grab a shirt off the floor.

I toss it onto my bed.

As I grit my teeth, I open my jeans and pull my cock out.

I'm long and hard. Throbbing.

There's no letting this calm down on its own.

I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke.

I grunt and shut my eyes.

With my left hand I grab for a pillow and squeeze it tight.

This is what I do now? I jerk off?

Just picture Abrielle's tits though.

So fucking warm and suckable.

My cock sliding between her tits.

Her rosy nipples as tight buds.

My hand pulls harder and faster.

Time speeds up. Everything speeds up.

Now I'm back at her place.

After moving all those paintings.

She's on her knees, sucking my cock.

Her mouth making wet noises, on purpose. Driving me fucking crazy. Her sloppy tongue smacking at me. Her hands gripped tight, pumping, begging for my cum.

"Fuck," I yell as I throw the pillow across the bed.

My right hand moves even faster and I squeeze the head of my cock so hard, it hurts a little.

My body tightens up and I jerk forward.

A white rope of cum shoots past the shirt on the bed.

I lean forward and grunt over and over, my hand riding my cock down and back up, stroking and draining myself of my own seed.

I take deep breaths and keep closing my eyes, watching the images of Abrielle fade away.

Which is good.

Which is what needs to happen.

Like I told her already a couple times…

It's done.