Mr. B.F.D.

“If you want to torture yourself, be my guest, but I wouldn’t trade a single woman I shouldn’t have gotten involved with for a million cheap fucks—I always liked living on the edge.” He reached for my glass.

“I think this is the last sip for me.” I finished the beer and pushed the empty glass towards him.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for. If not, we always have cold beer on tap.” He took the glass and dropped it in the sink.

“Thanks.” I dropped a few more dollars on the bar and headed for the exit.

I sat down behind the steering wheel and let out a long sigh as I considered my options. My first attempt at cheap pussy had been an ultimate failure, but there were other bars. I certainly didn’t have to stop looking. I could give it another shot at a seedier bar, or maybe go uptown and try to land a classier woman with a wild side. None of it felt right. Perhaps it was the watered-down beer that didn’t sit right on my stomach or it was just the apathy of realizing I was ultimately going to end up with someone who couldn’t scratch my itch. I cranked up my car and started driving home. I knew I should have taken the right turn that took me home, but I couldn’t help myself. I hit the left blinker and took the turn that carried me right past Charley’s house. I let the car crawl as I rolled down her street. It wasn’t late, but every light was off, but I could see the flashing of a television through the front curtains.. Her car was the only one in the driveway—she was home alone.

Do I dare? She made it pretty clear that she didn’t want to take it any further—is it worth another rejection just to satisfy my curiosity?

“Fuck it,” I muttered as I slammed the gear shift in park and stepped out of my car. “I know what I want.”

Chapter 7: Charley

Wallowing in self-pity and remorse seemed to be the life I lived between shifts at work. I hated myself for even letting Mr. Vance kiss me, yet I still wanted him more than I had wanted anything before. It made no sense. I had known him most of my life, and I had a never-ending crush, but it was a safe crush. Feeling his lips on mine combined with the desire of his touch took everything to a different level. It brought that fantasy out of my head and into the real world with all of the complications that went with it. The people I depended on, my parents, were still ignoring me. They were out again for the second straight weekend. I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation with them about Madison’s father, but it would have been nice to bounce random ideas off them or just have some sort of normal affection. The absence of it all was just killing me. When my shift was done at work, I went home and curled up on the couch. I was ready to just lay there without moving until I had to work again when there was a sudden pounding at my door.

“Charley, are you in there?” It was Mr. Vance’s voice.

He’s here? Why is he here?

“Mr. Vance?” I sat up on the couch and ran to the door, looking through the peephole to see him staring right back through it.

“Open up, we need to talk.” His words were firm, almost commanding.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.” I leaned my forehead against the door and grimaced from being so close to him, yet I knew couldn’t open the door and trust myself to restrain my desires.

“Why?” He tapped the door lightly. “Are you struggling with this as much as I am?”

“We can’t do this.” I looked through the peephole again and saw him with his head pressed to the door, much like mine was moments before.

“I don’t care if it is wrong. I don’t care what kind of complications it creates. I want you.” He kept tapping, picking up the pace. “Let me in.”

“Mr. Vance…” I muttered, feeling my hands tremble against the door.

“Call me Erik.” His words echoed in my head, just like they did in my fantasy. My mental defenses started breaking down. I felt my fingers moving towards the deadbolt.

Don’t do this. Think of Madison. Think of all the reasons it is wrong.

Everything that made any sort of relationship between us wrong started flashing in my head like a kaleidoscope of misery. I knew I shouldn’t open the door. I knew it was the biggest mistake I could ever make, because once it was open, there would be no Madison to text me and say she was on her way. If the previous weekend was any indication, it would be hours before my parents showed up. I didn’t trust my own willpower. My own willpower couldn’t even hold my hand steady. It couldn’t stop me from twisting the deadbo

lt and hearing the click echo in my head. He heard it too. When the deadbolt turned, he took a step back from the door and even though he couldn’t see me through the peephole, it felt like he was staring into my soul. My fingers moved the simple turn lock on the doorknob. One twist and the barrier between us would be gone. My brain hesitated but my fingers did not. They turned the lock and squeezed the doorknob. With a turn that felt like it was being resisted by the weight of the world, the door opened and I was staring directly at him.

“This is going to change everything.” It was my final plea of resistance, a verbal barrier that didn’t even slow him down as he started moving towards me.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He wrapped one hand around my waist and another around the back of my neck, pulling our bodies together.

Our second kiss was just as explosive as the first. The fury of our lips connecting and the way his tongue started to ravage my mouth made me forget all of the reasons it was wrong. It felt right—beyond right. Our lips formed a seal and he squeezed my hair while he continued to kiss me. I sank into his arms as he pulled me so close that there was nothing between us but the fabric of our clothes. His hand broke that barrier as he started moving underneath my shirt and sliding up my back. I didn’t feel very attractive in my pajamas and ponytail after a day working retail, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. His kiss had a faint hint of beer, but he didn’t seem to be drunk. As he kissed my lips and caressed my back with his hand, I moved my fingers up his arms and pushed the suit jacket he was wearing off of his shoulders. My body was burning with desire and could feel the heat resonating from his as well. His cock started to swell against my abdomen with the same lust I felt when we were on his couch the last time we were together.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His lips moved from mine and started to lightly kiss my ear. “I want you.”

“I’m not going to run away this time.” I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his neck.

I can’t run from him twice—I don’t have that much willpower.

His jacket hit the floor and he started pulling on my shirt. It easily came over my head, breaking the contact between us for a second, but then our bodies were pressed together again as his hungry lips started to move down my neck. There was no bra underneath my pajamas since I hadn’t planned on seeing anyone before bed, and my exposed nipples started to get hard. The intensity of his kiss made my body tingle and my hands quivered when I started to unbutton his shirt. He leaned back as I moved down the line of buttons and his hands gripped my breasts. He squeezed them and rubbed a thumb across each nipple, making them get even harder from his touch. I pushed them away as I pulled his tucked shirt free from his pants and finished unbuttoning it. I peeled it off of his shoulders and down his arms, exposing a white undershirt. Once he let his button-up shirt fall to the floor, I quickly pulled the undershirt off, revealing his muscled chest. His physique was as shredded as I remembered, decorated with a few tattoos from his younger days. I ran my fingers across his muscles and felt them tense from my touch.

He’s so freaking hot.