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I bet angry fucking her would be great.

She stood in front of me practically foaming at the mouth, and all I saw was me, holding a fistful of her hair, yanking hard as I plowed into her from behind, smacking her ass over and over.

Fuck.

“You’re an egomaniac. You don’t want me, but you don’t want me to show anyone else any attention, either.”

I stared at her, her words blurring as more visions became clear: Wrists tied to my headboard while she writhed under my tongue. I’d suck her pussy until she was on edge, just about to let go, then I’d lift her legs up into the air and onto my shoulders. Spreading her wetness from clit to crack, I’d lube up her tight little virgin ass. And then finger fuck the shit out of it until she was begging all over again.

“Blah. Blah Blah.” At least that’s what I heard. Gia’s voice was going again, but I couldn’t make out a damn word if I tried.

“Are you even listening to me?” she barked.

Not a fucking word. But turn around, bend over the hood of Mom’s car, and I’ll hear every scream I can wring out of you.

God, I really hoped her ass had never been touched. Would she punch me if I asked right now? Do I give a flying fuck if she does?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she continued to stare at me like I had two heads.

A dark smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“What?” Her patience ran thin.

My eyes dropped to the heavy heave of her chest, her nipples angrily protruding. God, she was sexy as fuck pissed off. Asking the status of her asshole would certainly elevate that…

I took a step forward and leaned down so our faces were aligned. She stood her ground with a swallow. “Anyone ever enter through your back door, Gia?”

Her pissed-off face morphed into confusion. “What? I came out the front door. Didn’t you just see me walk out?”

“I was talking about your ass, Gia.”

It took a minute for her to figure out what the hell I meant. But I knew the minute she did. A storm swept the calm sea blue of her eyes into dark churning waters. She took a step back, and I thought she was turning to walk away. That is, until I realized she was only winding up to smack me straight across the face.

He had some balls.

Giant ones. The kind that I wouldn’t miss if my foot happened to attempt a swift kick. Which I definitely hadn’t ruled out.

I seated an older couple at a table and watched from a distance as the asshole flirted with a woman at the bar. He’d been standing there since he walked back inside with my handprint etched into his face.

Obviously the sting in my heart hurt more than what my hand had done to him, since he was already laughing and flirting, enjoying himself while I continued to stew.

The woman got up, and Rush’s hand went to her back. There was a familiarity in his touch and in their interaction. She was probably one of his summer fucks. He guided her to the stairs that led up to the roof while I gaped from a distance.

She was definitely older than him. I’d guess late thirties or even early forties. Unlike the other woman I’d seen hanging around the bar drooling over him, this one wasn’t dressed like a whore. She had on a pair of jeans, rolled at the ankle, and a baggy, oversized T-shirt that hung almost to her knees. A pair of flip-flops with a big daisy flower on each donned her feet, rather than the usual stilettos his casual fucks seemed to like to wear.

Are you shitting me?

He had the audacity to speak to me the way he had outside, and now he just casually moved on to some May-December hookup right under my nose?

No.

Just no.

Weaving through patrons, I made my way to the stairwell. Running up to the rooftop, I could feel my pulse racing.

I stopped upon the sight of Rush pulling out a chair for his lady friend before sitting down across from her. They looked very comfortable together, and he was—dare I say—smiling like a fool.

My blood was boiling. I watched intently as he walked over to the bar and ordered her a glass of wine, bringing it back to the table.

My breathing was ragged as I continued to stand in the entrance observing them from afar—until I lost it.

Storming over to the table, I huffed, “Are you kidding me right now?”

Rush stood up suddenly and held out his hands in an apparent attempt to stop my outburst.

“Gia…thi—”

“No!” I refused to back down. “I’m sorry. I’m not gonna shut up.”

“Gia!” he yelled louder.

The bar was crowded, and no one seemed to be paying attention to this confrontation aside from Rush’s date whose eyes were fixed on me.

Ignoring his plea, I got in his face. “What kind of a game are you playing? One second you’re outside asking me if I’ve ever been fucked in the ass and the next second, you’re upstairs wining and dining some woman? What’s wrong with you?”

His date cringed.

Rush gritted his teeth. “Stop!”

“No, I wo—”

He lifted me off my feet. Before I knew it, I was being literally carried out of the bar area.

Kicking my legs, I screamed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t answer me as he continued on to the hallway by the stairwell and put me down before backing me up against a wall.

His eyes were searing into mine, but he said nothing as customers brushed by us to enter the rooftop area.

Still bleeding jealousy, I panted. “Who was that woman?”

He stared at me for several seconds before he finally spat out, “That’s not a woman. That’s my mother!”

A rush of blood suddenly coursed through my veins.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Your…” I cleared my throat. “You’re lying. That’s not…she’s…I just…oh…oh, no…no.” I held onto my head with both hands. “I didn’t just say that…in front of your mother?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, you fucking did.”

I was panicked. “Oh God. Rush, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Rush looked like he was ready to blow.

“Get back to work,” he demanded. “And stay the fuck off the rooftop.”

“Rush…” I pleaded.

Seething, he started to walk away, leaving me in the hallway. He turned around, and when he saw I hadn’t moved, he barked louder, “Go!”

I didn’t know how long I’d been staring into space before Oak interrupted, “You okay, Gia? You look pale.”

It was just about closing time. Rush hadn’t come downstairs once since I’d made an ass of myself—

no pun intended—in front of his mom. Even though I’d wanted to just go home, somehow, I’d managed to muddle through the rest of my shift.

Turning to him, I felt like crying. “I screwed up, Oak…in a really big way.”

Oak pulled up a chair next to where I was standing. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“I really don’t want to say.”

“Let me guess. This has something to do with the boss?”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “How ever did you know?”

“Wild guess.” He sighed. “I don’t even know what happened, but I suspect it involved Rush blowing his top over something?”

“Oh, he blew his top, alright.”

Oak looked almost entertained by my dilemma.

He began to tell me a story. “So…my daughter, Jazzy…she’s in fifth grade, right? I got called to the school the other day because there’s this boy who’s been bothering her…teasing her, pulling her hair…stuff like that.”

“Yeah?”

“The boy’s mother showed up at this meeting, too. You know what she told me? She said all this kid talks about at home is Jazzy. He seems to have a crush on her, but he has a funny way of showing it.”

I joked, “What ever are you getting at, Oak?”

He raised his brow. “I think you can draw your own conclusions there.”

Feeling flush, I said, “Well, tonight had nothing to do with Rush’s feelings or lack of feelings toward me. Tonight was one-hundred percent my fault.” Blowing out a breath, I decided to tell him what happened. “I assumed that Rush’s mother was his date earlier, confronted him in anger upstairs, and said something really bad in front of her. I can’t ever take it back, and I’m pretty sure he wants to kill me now.”