Fatal Attraction (Dark Desires 4)

I jackhammered into her until she started moaning, then groaning, then screaming my name.

“Brad… fuck me… Brad… shit… I’m cumming… I’m … cummmminnngggg…”

I thought for a moment that the bed was going to collapse from me bouncing up and down on top of Mollie and her thrashing up and down beneath me.

The headboard was beating the fuck out of the wall. A framed picture above the bed fell off the nail and crashed to the floor.

We ignored it.

We were too busy to think about anything other than finishing what we’d started.

After a moment, Mollie screamed one last time and I pushed out the last drop of cum that I could.

We were a wet, sticky, gooey mess, but neither one of us seemed to care.

I lowered myself to lie on top of her, and once I caught my breath, gave her a long, wet kiss.

“Happy New Year, Mollie the paralegal,” I said.

“Happy New Year to you, Brad the banker,” she sighed. “Thanks for coming to my party.”

* * *

A short time later, Mollie was curled into a ball beside me, snoring softly with her luscious ass pressed to my hip and her cold feet pressed to my leg.

We’d cuddled for a while. I know, women love that shit and she did feel wonderful in my arms. After a while she kissed my cheek, told me goodnight, and rolled over.

Within a couple of minutes, her breathing grew heavy and she went out like a light.

I thought about just closing my eyes to join her. I wasn’t as drunk as I had been a couple of hours earlier, and her small bed felt warm and cozy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed.

Then I remembered that spending the night with a woman meant waking up with her.

Sure, there would probably be a nice round of hot morning sex, maybe more sex in the shower, but that would be followed by awkward small talk and the obligatory “getting to know you better” morning chit chat. Then the lie when I promised to call her.

As gorgeous and sexy as she was, my dance card was full.

I worked sixteen-hours a day and had more pussy than I could ever plow through. I’m talking primo pussy: models, actresses, socialites, and on and on.

And this girl did not impress me as the kind of girl who would settle for just being another of my fuck buddies.

I suddenly found myself wide awake, totally sober, staring at the ceiling, planning my escape.

Once I was sure she was sleeping, I got up quietly and gathered my clothes. I eased the bedroom door shut and got dressed in the living room so as not to wake her up.

I let myself out, made sure the door was locked behind me, and called my driver.

He was there by the time I stepped out into the freezing New Year’s night.

That was two months ago.

Though I’ve thought of her often, I never saw or spoke to Mollie the paralegal again.

Until tonight when she walked into the restaurant and sat down across from me with an angry look on her face.

Holy shit.

What was I supposed to do now?