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|Without Me(Men of Inked #7) by Chelle Bliss|
“No.” It was so unlike me, too. It wasn’t that I wanted to see the women again, but it was always good to have a way to contact them. You know, in case they had that deep-throat, never-choke quality I looked for in a woman.
She sat up on her knees and reached toward my head. “Are you sick?” she asked as she pressed her palm to my forehead.
I knocked her hand away. “I’m fine. Stop with your shit.”
“So, what did I just interrupt if you don’t have her number?” She raised an eyebrow as she pursed her lips.
The last thing I wanted to admit was that I had been cyber-stalking the girl.
“I found one of her friends on Facebook and sent her a message.”
“You didn’t.” Izzy’s hands covered her face as she shook her head back and forth. “Say it isn’t so. You did not stoop to that level. Not Anthony Gallo.”
“He didn’t what?” James asked as he walked in the room.
I shot her a look, pleading with her not to tell him.
“Nothing, James.” She smiled up at him.
From the look on his face, I’d say he didn’t buy it.
“It sounded pretty juicy.”
“What sounded juicy?” Joe asked from behind James.
“Nothing,” I grumbled before dragging in a breath. If I made it through the rest of the day without blowing a gasket, it would be a freaking miracle.
“What’s the score?” Pop asked as he sat down.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been paying attention,” I replied as I grabbed my phone, hoping to see a reply from Malia.
Nothing. She hadn’t even seen my message. Most likely, it had landed in her other folder since we weren’t friends. She’d probably never see it. It would sit there in message purgatory for eternity while I hopelessly searched for Max.
Everyone fell into the usual routine. They bullshitted about life and cursed at the Cubs. I sat there with my messages open and stared, waiting for it to say read. I tried to pay attention to the game, but I couldn’t. I wanted to find Max more than I cared if the loser Cubs won a single game during the current losing season.
When I left my parents that night, Malia still hadn’t responded. The first song I heard was “I Won’t Give Up,” and I slammed my palm down on the steering wheel.
I hit number two on the radio, looking for relief from the mushy song shit. Just my fucking luck that “Stolen Dance” filled the car. For the love of God, even Karma couldn’t be this cruel. Instead of trying a third radio station, I turned it off and headed home in silence.
If Malia didn’t message me by the morning, I’d send her another message. One that was smoother and sounded more like me. The one I’d sent by accident was none of the above. If I needed to, maybe I could track Malia down by her profile. I bet she was the type to list her place of work or at least check in at the places she frequented. Either way, I wouldn’t give up until I found one of her friends who would lead me to her.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I said to myself as I pulled in the driveway. “She’s just another pussy. Nothing more.”
I tried like hell to convince myself that I meant those words.
“Yeah, and a bitch at that.” I nodded as I turned off the car. “You don’t need her,” I whispered as I unlocked the door and walked inside.
Maybe I just needed to fuck someone else to get her out of my system. It had been a month and I hadn’t screwed anyone besides her. I’d never gone this long without pussy.
It wasn’t my style. I had a large sexual appetite, but over the last couple of weeks, my hand had gotten a lot of use.
“Fuck it!” I yelled, and did the only thing I felt would be right. I picked up my phone and texted Candy.
Me: Want a piece?
I’d never treated her like a lady. Candy liked being treated like a dirty slut. I liked it that way too. We both got something out of it.
Candy: YES! OMG. When?!?!
Candy was uncomplicated. I smiled as I looked at my watch. It was only seven, so the night was young. Maybe if I banged her for a couple of hours, I could rid my system of Max.
Me: Now. I’ll come to you.
I’d never had her to my house. It was my sanctuary. I wasn’t saying that I’d never brought a woman home, but Candy was crazy. There was good crazy and bad crazy. She landed somewhere in the middle. Definitely not the type you’d want to give your address to, because there was a high probability she’d show up at your door uninvited late at night.
I grabbed my keys, headed for the door, and went for a piece of ass. Candy would do the trick. She’d feed my sugar fix and wipe Max from my mind.
What the Fuck Did I Do?
As soon as I opened my eyes, I thought, I didn’t. Right in front of me was Candy, sprawled out and naked. I wish I could say that alcohol had made me do it and I weren’t responsible for my actions.
That would have been the easy way out and a complete and total lie.
I covered my eyes, hoping that, when I looked again, she’d be gone and I’d be in my own bed. Slowly, I peeked through my fingers, but it hadn’t worked.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, trying to slide out of the bed without waking her.
“Please,” she muttered into the pillow.
This was where my luck was headed. First, I met someone I actually wanted to get to know, but she threw me the fuck out. Then I fucked someone I didn’t want to know, but she didn’t want me to leave.