Watching Mine

Matt was my lifesaver for the night.

As appreciative as I am of him, I really need him to go now; I don’t like it when they linger. I may need sex from men on a daily basis to keep my sanity, but I don’t let them stay afterwards. I don’t do relationships. I know I’m a bitch—using men for sex and discarding them—but I have a damn good reason.

I roll to my side and get out of bed. I bend with my ass facing Matt to pick up his clothes to toss at him. I lost my modesty a long time ago, and if it wasn’t for my job, or the fact I would get arrested for indecent exposure, I’d never wear clothes. It would make things so much easier when the need took hold. During the day I’m fine, but by the time evening rolls around, the urge grips me tight and leaves me in a near panicked state. I came so close to having an anxiety attack tonight. I thought I would have to call my friend, Nathan, to come rescue me. Luckily, Matt showed up and caught my eye at the perfect time.

And here we are now, an hour later, with him still lying on my bed, and me standing with my hands on my hips, glaring at him. He didn’t take the hint when his clothes landed on his stomach, so it looks like I’m going to have to be blunter.

I reach out with a foot and nudge his leg. “Hey, it’s time to go.”

His arm moves, showing off sleepy, plain brown eyes. “Can’t you give a guy a minute to recover?” he mutters.

“No. I need you to leave right now,” I tell him. I spy my panties on the floor and pick them up to slip up my hips.

I’m exhausted, and want nothing more than to sleep. A niggle of guilt tries to worm its way in with how I’m treating this guy, but I push it back. I’ve learned the hard way over the years that in order to keep my inner emotions intact, I’d have to build a steel wall around myself. I hate being a bitch, but it’s the only way to protect myself. Only a handful of people know the real me.

Matt grumbles as he drags himself from the bed. I ignore him and pull on a cami, sans bra. Using the hair tie from my wrist, I pull my thick blonde hair up into a ponytail as I wait for him to finish. I tap my fingers on the doorframe I’m leaning against, while he sits on my bed and pulls on his shoes. It’s normally the guys that are hell-bent on leaving as soon as they get done, but not this guy. He’s taking his sweet time, and it’s grating on my nerves.

He finally stands and makes his way over to me. I’m just about to turn around and lead him to the door when he boxes me in by planting his hands on the doorframe on either side of me. I inwardly cringe when he leans down, and the smell of whiskey on his breath assaults me. My head hits the door when I lean back to get away from him.

“How about we do this again sometime, sugar?” he drawls, leaning down to rub his lips against mine. They end up on my cheek when I turn my head.

I put my hands on his chest and give him a shove. “I don’t think so.”

“You sure?” he asks, not getting the hint.

“Yep.” I slip under his arm and walk down the hallway. “The door is this way,” I throw over my shoulder, and see he’s following.

Thank goodness.

Opening the door, I stand and wait for him to catch up. Right before he walks through the threshold, he reaches out, snags me around the waist and slams me against his chest. His lips land on mine before I get a chance to turn my head this time. Even though I seal my lips tight, bile rises in my throat. One thing I always avoid with the men I sleep with is kissing. It’s too personal, and intimate.

Right as I’m about to bite his damn lip and knee his balls up to his throat, he pulls back and murmurs, “Your loss,” and then he’s gone. I slam the door behind him and blow out a breath, relieved to finally be alone.

Fuck my life. Sometimes, I really detest my addiction, while other times, I fucking love it.

***

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR THE NEXT day pulls me from sleep. Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I note that it’s almost noon. I also notice I have a missed call and text from Ava, one of my best friends.

Ava: Get your ass up.

It’s Saturday. I always sleep in on Saturday. Ava knows this. She also knows I get cranky if I’m woken prematurely.

I pull my pillow over my head when I hear the knock again. I know she won’t go away, but my ass isn’t getting out of this bed to answer the door, either. If it’s important enough, she has her own key and will use it.

Minutes later, my bed dips and the pillow is yanked from my hands. I glare at Ava with an I’m-going-to-kill-you look. Of course she ignores it, just like every other time I give her my best evil glare, and proceeds to snatch the cover off my near naked body. I showered after Matt left last night, and only put on a pair of panties before falling into bed. Ava doesn’t bat an eyelash at my bare tits, and I don’t bother to cover them. She’s seen them before, and I’m sure she’ll see them again.

Ava and I met several years ago in a bar, when some guy was trying to pick her up and wouldn’t take the hint that she wasn’t interested. She was blunt with the guy, but he was relentless. I could sense the anger rolling off her, and wanting to keep her from blowing up on him, I interrupted their conversation by planting an open mouth kiss on her, right there in front of him. I’m not gay. I’m not even bisexual, although, I’ve had a few experiences with the same sex, but even that kiss had my body turning hot. It was just a ploy to help her out, but I think it went on a bit longer than I’d intended.

By the time we pulled back from each other, we were both breathing heavy. The guy was gone, which was my goal. I introduced myself, as did Ava, and we hit it off from there. We’ve been best friends ever since. We’ve both been a part of a few threesomes together, the two of us with a guy, but nothing else has ever happened between us. I don’t want it to, and neither does she. But we’re completely fine with seeing each other’s naked bodies. That’s just how we are.

“Get your ass out of bed and get dressed. We’re meeting Nathan and Tegan in thirty minutes.” She walks to my dresser and rummages through my underwear drawer, throwing me a bra and shirt.

“Did you at least bring coffee, since you so rudely woke me up before my alarm went off?” I grumble, slipping the bra up my arms and snapping the back clasp. “And why are we meeting Nathan and Tegan?”

“No particular reason,” she says. Walking into my closet next, she tosses me a pair of jeans. “It’s been a while since we’ve all had lunch together.”

“Coffee. You never answered my question about coffee. I’m going back to bed if you didn’t bring any.” I’m serious. If she didn’t bring coffee, then she can carry her ass out of my