Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
My brows furrow, and I hold my breath as I lean in toward my door, listening through the wood. The strange grunting sounds again, followed by a sharp smacking sound, and my eyes widen. I’ve got no idea what the fuck is going on in there, but I know the sound of someone being spanked when I hear it.
Grabbing the door handle, I twist, finding it already unlocked, and I throw the door open wide before storming in. My gaze quickly sweeps the living room, and I come to a startling halt, finding my boyfriend, Marc.
Tight black latex covers his whole body, right down to the leather collar locked around his throat. His dick hangs out of his fucked-up little outfit as a woman dressed in a BDSM leather harness hovers before him on her knees, a ring gag strapped around her face, forcing her mouth open.
“WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING FUCK IS GOING ON IN HERE?” I shriek, my eyes widening in horror as I take in the guy I’ve been dating for the past few months. Shit, Nana tried to tell me he was a piece of shit but I defended him. I told her she just didn’t know him like I did, but she was right. Nana was always right.
Marc’s head snaps up, looking just as horrified as I feel. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for people exploring their kinks and being freaky little devils, but why the fuck does he have to do it in my home? As far as I’m aware, I’ve never given him a key, and I sure as hell have never given him the idea that he could use my home as a fucking sex chamber.
“Blair. I—”
“OUT,” I demand, needing to turn away, unable to look at him. This isn’t the clean-cut successful lawyer who’s always gone out of his way to impress me. I don’t even know the man standing before me.
“Blair, please. I can explain,” he rushes out as the woman unclips the ring gag from around her mouth, clearly realizing that whatever is going on here is over.
“I don’t need an explanation,” I tell him, unease blasting through my veins. “I’ve seen enough. You broke into my apartment to live out some kind of BDSM fetish bullshit, probably thinking I’d be at work and you’d never get caught. I mean, you’re a lawyer. Tell me how many laws you just broke when you stole my key and let yourself in here to fuck some bitch—no offense,” I say, my gaze flicking toward the woman.
“None taken,” she says with a shrug, getting to her feet. And damn it, I hate how insecure her killer body makes me feel about my own.
Keeping my attention locked on Marc, I continue. “In case you haven’t worked it out, we’re done. Don’t ever come back here again.”
“Blair—”
“OUT NOW,” I roar again, taking a page out of Dwayne’s book and pointing my finger toward the door as humiliation and anger burn through me like liquid rage. “Find your shit and get out of here. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“But I love you.”
The woman scoffs, scrunching her face at him. “Seriously? You’re going to try and throw that bullshit at her? You’re here in her apartment trying to fuck me. You don’t love her.”
Marc turns his attention to the woman as she finds her discarded shirt on my couch and pulls it on over her outfit. “Why the fuck are you still here?”
She scoffs at him. “At this point, I think I’m more welcome than you are.”
“Neither of you is welcome in my home,” I tell them. “Now get out before I call the police. I’m sure that would look great on your sparkly little record.”
Marc clenches his jaw. “Can you at least allow me a moment to get dressed?”
“You broke into my home, Marc,” I spit, not able to comprehend why the hell he’s still here. “If this was a home invasion and the asshole asked for a glass of water after forcing his way into my apartment, I’d be searching for a baseball bat to beat the living shit out of him. So why the hell would you think I’d allow you that courtesy? Tuck your fucking limp dick back inside your . . . whatever the fuck you want to call that shit you’re wearing and leave. Otherwise, it won’t just be breaking and entering you’d be charged with, it’d be an indecent exposure charge as well. And while you’re at it, take your little whore with you.”
Rage boils within Marc’s eyes, and he strides over to my kitchen to grab his clothes off the counter before shoving his pea-sized dick back inside his latex pants. He storms right past me, and I hope for his sake that he finds somewhere to get dressed. Otherwise, he’ll have hell to pay on the streets of New York.