The Charlie I knew apologized if he accidentally bumped into me.
“Fuck,” I whispered, nipples aching.
“What is it, Athena?” he asked, moving closer to me. “Sierra, Heather, and Sun aren’t supposed to be over for another hour or so, right? We have time. You can tell me what happened. Why are you acting so weird?”
“I can’t,” I whispered, heart pounding the closer he came.
“Why not? Did something happen at the bar last night?”
“No.”
He grimaced and looked past me at the laptop. “Is it something on your computer?”
“No!”
My quick and rushed response did nothing to convince him. Actually, the opposite happened as he stepped past me and grabbed the laptop from behind my back. “I swear, if someone is harassing?—”
“Wait! Don’t open th?—”
Before I could reach for it, he opened my laptop. The video of him pounding his cock into another woman’s throat, slapping her tits, and spitting on her face began playing on full blast because my earbuds weren’t connected anymore and I hadn’t gotten a chance to close all the damn tabs!
“It’s not what it looks like!” I shrieked, slamming the laptop shut. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
We were best fucking friends, and I had been touching myself to him, thinking about how it’d feel if I were the one he was face-fucking like that. It was exactly how it looked, and I felt so guilty for it.
I turned my head and averted my gaze, my chest and face suddenly burning. “I’m so sorry. I found it online, and I … I knew it was you. You have the same tattoos, the same scar on your finger. And I …”
Oh God! This was going to ruin our entire friendship!
Seven years down the drain.
Suddenly, he wrapped his hand around my throat and pinned me to the nearest wall. I sucked in a breath and stared up into his dark eyes, my heart pounding inside my chest and my pussy clenching.
“You what?” he growled. “Found out it was me and decided to touch yourself to it?”
While I opened my mouth to protest, only a whimper escaped my throat.
A low, deep chuckle rumbled from his body, and then he drew the pad of his thumb across my lower lip. The submissive in me sucked in another breath and stared up at him, waiting, anticipating his next move.
“If you wanted me to treat you like a dirty little fuckdoll all this time, you could’ve said so,” he said, slipping his thumb between my lips and watching as I sucked on it. He cursed under his breath, his gaze hazy.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, sucking on it harder. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Fucking hell,” he snarled, shoving me to my feet.
I landed on my knees, my pussy aching and desperate, and I stared up at him through wide eyes. He reached down and pinched my hardened nipples through my tank top, tugging them as hard as he could.
“It was you last night who paid me to moan your name, wasn’t it?”
“N-no.”
He pulled on my nipples harder. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“Yes, it was,” I cried. “It was me!”
He released my tits and slid his hands up to my jaw, shoving his fingers into my mouth to wet them, drawing them all across my face, lightly tapping my cheek, as if to test what I really liked, how far I really wanted to go with him.
“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl for me and open your mouth.”
