Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
She doesn’t even have time to reach the door and knock before it opens and Malcom appears wearing short-shorts and a tank-top that shows off his ripped arms that would make any girl’s panties moist in an instant after just one glance.
He catches her as she nearly throws herself onto him, and I watch in absolute horror as he pulls her into the house and closes the door behind them.
11
Erika
I’m steaming. I could literally heat the entire apartment building if I went back there right now and every tenant would wonder why their units were so hot, despite the fact that they turned the heat off hours ago.
Just another asshole. I don’t know why I even let myself think anything different about Malcom, but I did. But he just went ahead and showed his true colors. He’s a Slytherin—a Lannister. A devious, narcissistic bastard out for himself. He doesn’t know I’m out here watching, but I doubt it would even matter to him if he did at this point. He got what he wanted from me, and I signed his lease. What does he care what I think anymore?
My eyes scour every inch of his house from where I’m parked. What are they doing in there? I wonder. Who even is she? Why did she throw herself at him like that?
Terrible images flood my mind as I picture them together—something akin to my own horror pornography as I think about him doing things to her that are similar to the things he did to me and her enjoying them just as much as I did. Maybe even more. Maybe she’s more experienced than I am and is more able to relax than I was, and as a result, will have like fifty-five orgasms before passing out in his arms.
And in the morning, he’ll make her bacon and eggs and toast–
“Fucking hell!” I jam my car into drive and floor it, grinding my teeth together as I speed up the block and slide into his driveway, my tires screeching like I’m in the midst of a Hollywood movie chase.
Yup, here comes that psycho-bitch that I was worried about earlier. She’s coming out, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop her.
I’m headed straight for that other girl’s car—whoever the hell she is—Miss Black Dress and Heels. If I don’t brake soon, I’m going to slam right into it, total both vehicles, and probably end up in the hospital too. Damnit, Malcom, you son of a bitch. I can feel my heart just pounding with pain as my eyes blur with tears.
At the last second, I swerve and slam on the brake. The front end of my car narrowly misses the bitch’s back bumper, and I slide to a halt on Malcom’s front lawn, tearing the grass up in two long strips, narrowly avoiding disaster.
Yeah, they heard that, I think as I leap from the car and stride quickly up to the front door. I’ve never had an anxiety attack before, but I’ve had anxiety issues, and this is definitely qualifying as one of those as I reach out and grab the knob on Malcom’s front door.
It’s unlocked, so I just let myself in as Malcom and the black-dress-and-heels bitch are coming out from the living room. Only now, she’s no longer wearing a black dress and heels; she’s wearing short-shorts and a T-shirt, like she just threw something on in a panic when she heard someone at the door—threw something on because she was naked two seconds ago.
“What the hell, Erika?” he calls out, trying to glance over my shoulder through one of the windows by the door to get a look at the damage I’ve just created. “What are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” I scoff. “That’s rich.” I pivot my eyes to the girl and then back to him. “That’s rich coming from you right now.”
Malcom’s face hardens, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re joking, right? That’s what this is about?”
The girl laughs. “There’s no way–”
Malcom silences her with a hand gesture. Wow, the two of them must be really close. Either that or she just doesn’t have the balls to stand up for herself.
“How did you even—are you stalking me or something?” Malcom asks.
“No, I’m not stalking you,” I snap. “And don’t change the subject either. You don’t call me for thirty days, and then I find you with her?”
This time, the girl bursts out laughing like I’m Don Rickles and she’s Frank Sinatra and I’ve just told her the funniest joke of my career. Malcom holds up a hand to silence her, but this time, she completely ignores him and leans up against the wall with one hand on her stomach like her guts might fall out if she laughs any harder.