But again––patience. I always knew which cards to play and exactly when to play them.
“Why wouldn’t I want to know someone like you?”
“That’s just it, you shouldn’t,” she retorted with the wariness I was expecting. She didn’t know her own self-worth. Her mind was rejecting the possibility of someone like me being interested in her. It knocked her off kilter––she wanted to be the one pursuing. Unfortunately for her, I was always the hunter and never the prey.
“I have a problem.”
“It’s not a problem. It’s a disorder and its one of the first things I knew about you. You’ll have to do better than that.”
Looking slightly taken aback for half a second, she continued to name everything wrong with her.
She didn’t understand that her faults were what began my obsession.
Everything she thought was wrong with her I thought was pure fucked up imperfection.
Perhaps I should have told her I knew enough about her that I could probably give her responses before she did. But this was too entertaining. I was a morally bankrupt asshole, and she was making deposits that unknowingly fed my greedy sickness.
“I have a long list of daddy issues.”
“That sounds like a good thing for me.”
She laughed, and the sound was akin to a music box.
“Fine, it’s your sanity at stake.” She shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance. I tempered a smile brought on by her discomfort.
“Now that’s out of the way,” I began and she slightly relaxed.
“Can we start in the bathroom?”
That gave me slight pause.
“The bathroom?” I knew what she was asking, I just wanted to confirm. She looked at me dead center and nodded.
I should have been a gentleman and turned down the offer, done the right thing and all that other bullshit, but where was the enjoyment in that discourse? I said I was patient, not a priest. I was far less than a gentleman, and even less of a saint.
This gorgeous woman I was so obsessed with wanted me to fuck her. Who was I to say no?
Sliding from the booth without a word, I reached down and grabbed her hand, leading her towards the back of the diner.
Chapter Six
It was a quick, no-nonsense fuck.
He was a stranger–––a gorgeous, dangerous stranger–––that made it so much dirtier. We didn’t share any passionate kisses, In fact, we barely spoke any words.
I turned the flimsy lock on the door while he worked me out of my hoodie. He tore at my tank top, exposing my breasts. There was a two-second pause where he searched my face to see if I’d changed my mind.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, moving closer.
With a subtle nod, he shoved my shorts down my legs just far enough to give him access to where he wanted to be and where I needed him.
I reached for him. “No,” he said, grabbing my wrists and placing them back by my sides. He took a step back and perused my half naked body from head to toe. Standing in that shitty bathroom with my tits half out and my bare pussy on full display, I felt more exposed than I would have fully nude.
He spun me around and bent me over the basin. I heard his buckle being undone and knew he was lowering his slacks just far enough to free his cock.
I never saw his dick. I didn’t care––when he stepped up behind me, I felt how hard and thick it was, and that’s all that mattered. The familiar smell of his cologne chased away any small reservations I had.
“Wait, condom.”
