Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
His mind was foggy, but so was the pain. Everything had dulled to a shallow, manageable grayness. Even the streetlights seemed less bright. Somewhere, somehow, the stranger had curled an arm around his waist, fingers tucked into his front pocket like he was fucking property.
Just another thing he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about.
“Damn, you sure can drink, can’t you? That’s pretty impressive how you swallow all that booze. I wonder what else you’d be good at swallowing.”
He turned his head to meet the guy’s flirtatious gaze. Seriously? Was that the best the guy could do? He was shit-faced drunk and he could still come up with a better line.
“Is that your way of asking for a demonstration?”
“Holy shit, she speaks.”
He tried to roll his eyes but ended up rolling his head instead. “Funny.”
Baseball Cap laughed and squeezed tighter. Walking a straight line spiked from difficult to impossible. He stumbled, but the flirty stranger caught him before he landed flat on his face.
“Just playing, girl. You like to have fun, don’t you? Yeah, you do. Someone who drinks like that knows how to let loose.”
Christ, this guy was annoying. Ansel pushed his face close enough to tap his forehead on the bill of the guy’s hat.
“You wanna have some fun, babe?” He used his sexiest, breathiest voice and watched the guy’s tongue hang out like a predictable dog panting after a bone.
“Hell yes.”
So fucking easy it was boring. He leaned down and gave the guy his sloppiest, dirtiest kiss. It was awful. There was no heat, no spark, it was like he was dead inside. His partner didn’t seem to mind—he buried a fist in Ansel’s hair and tugged.
“Yeah, babe, I’m going to fuck you so hard your teeth rattle.”
Ansel almost gagged. This idiot was a prime example of what not to say when trying to get laid.
He gave another fuzzy thought to Fitch as he stumbled across the street toward his apartment building. Though he was too drunk to stop himself from making terrible choices, he wasn’t so far gone he didn’t recognize them. None of it mattered. His mother had set him straight. He wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough, not for Fitch, not for his brother, not for his parents. Might as well burn it all to the ground.
He stopped in the middle of the road and looked over his shoulder. He tipped the bottle to his lips and drank the rest of its contents.
“Are you coming?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Baseball Cap caught up with him at the front steps and pushed Ansel up against the concrete. The bottle slipped from his useless fingers with a crash that echoed down the street.
“Whoops,” Ansel mumbled with his cheek pressed against the rough wall.
“Shh, beautiful. You’re going to wake your neighbors.” He moved his hips to grind against his denim covered ass.
“Fuck ’em.”
The guy laughed but it didn’t sound nice, or happy. It was grating like the shattered glass under his feet. Speaking of his feet, fuck, they hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. How long had he be standing in heels? He tried to clear his head a little, but the shaking just made him dizzy. The idiot dry humping him against the building was now also sucking on his neck like a vacuum hose.
“Shit, baby, let’s get inside before I explode in my pants,” the guy said.
“What time is it?”
“Almost one, why? Got a hot date?” He snickered in a rude and condescending way as he moved away just enough for Ansel to reach the door handle.
No, no more dates for him.
They made it inside, barely. Baseball Cap didn’t waste time once the door was shut behind them. He pinned Ansel against the door and trapped his hands above his head.
“Are you as hot for it as I think you are?” The guy forced a slimy tongue into his mouth and wiggled it around like a dying fish.
Ansel had to breathe through his nose and close his eyes just to stop himself from puking. That would bring an end to the situation fast. Just then he felt the dude’s wandering hand near the waist of his pants. While he had been concentrating on not throwing up, Baseball Cap got his pants unbuttoned and shoved his hand inside. Problem was, Ansel was pretty sure the guy was expecting something much, much different down there.
Whoops.
The stranger’s fingers skimmed along his uninterested cock. He reeled back as if he’d been bitten by a poisonous snake.
“What the fuck?” The horror on the guy’s face was hilarious.
Ansel’s laugh was manic.
“Was that a fucking dick?” The dude looked so disgusted, his lip curled up like he smelled something rotten. “Stop laughing, bitch.” He reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair. “You think it’s fucking funny? You like games? How ’bout I shove my fist down your throat? Would you like that?”