I sigh and wonder if I should call or email her to apologize.
Or maybe I shouldn’t talk to her again. It’s the safest thing to do for both of us, even if it isn’t what either of us wants. At this point, I don’t know what the best decision is. Losing a friend or being at risk?
There’s no going around it; I’m screwed.
A horn blares in my ears, and a man in a passing car sticks up his middle finger at me.
I almost drove into his lane.
When Greg said I was a bad driver, he was right … even though I hate that part. Some things aren’t fixable. You just have to deal with them the best way you can. In this case, it’s ignoring whoever gives me the finger.
As I drive my car up to my house, I spot a man sporting a hoodie going into the forest right behind it. Gawking out the window while driving, I almost drive over the curb but manage to hit the brakes on time. I quickly park my car in the driveway and jump out, following him into the woods.
It’s Drake—I’m sure of it. I can tell from the clothes he’s wearing and the way he walks, with his shoulders slumped, even though he has enough muscles to hold him up. Like he doesn’t want to be noticed.
But I noticed him.
From a distance, I stalk behind him, hoping he doesn’t spot me. I don’t want to be seen. This time, I’m the one who watches.
I follow him all the way into the dark part of the wood, deep and far away from any street. What is he doing here?
A twig breaks under my feet.
I inhale and hide behind a tree before he turns around.
Did he see me?
God, I hope not.
I feel like a fool for doing this, but I want to know where he’s going and what he’s doing. I already have enough on my plate as it is with Greg, and I need to know if I can trust Drake.
After a few seconds, I take a leap of faith and look over my shoulder. He’s started walking again, but he’s far in the distance, and if I don’t follow soon, I’ll lose him. So I pick up the pace and use the trees to stay hidden when needed.
It takes a while before I finally see where he is heading.
A cabin sits in the middle of the woods with a small path that looks like a dirt road leading up to it, presumably for a car … if he even has one.
I wait a while before I follow him again. I don’t want him to notice me.
Then I look around the premises to see if he’s there, but I don’t see anyone. And for some reason, it makes me want to go inside.
That’s insane.
But I can’t stop myself from approaching the house anyway. Can’t stop from slowly turning the doorknob, which slides open with ease. It wasn’t locked.
What are you doing? Get out of here, Hyun.
The little voice inside my head is screaming, but I continue anyway.
I want to know what he’s doing here.
But as the door pans open, I realize … he lives here.
With the poor lighting, I can barely make out the inside, and I squint to get a closer look. A shoddy couch sits in front of an old TV that still has antennas, and in the corner is a makeshift kitchen with a small fridge and one stove, which is covered in dirty dishes. There’s a table somewhere too, but clothes and more dirty dishes covers it. In the corner, right next to the door is a desk filled with stacks and stacks of papers and pens, and buried underneath is a small laptop along with a printer. Above that are countless Post-its hanging from the wall, scribbled with notes. And next to that is a doorway leading to a room with an unmade bed.
The whole place is a mess.
Understatement of the year.
In the left corner, I spot a bookcase filled with books, and the beautiful collection instinctively draws me to it. I don’t know why, but I love the scent of ink on paper, and when I see books, I want to touch them and smell them all. Is that weird? It must be.
I grab one of them titled Kept in the Dark and flip through the pages. I bring it up to my nose and take a quick whiff. Nothing wrong with smelling books. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I quickly put it back and grab another one called You Never Saw this Coming … with the subtitle “How To Write Plot Twists Like No Other.” Inside is a bunch of methodical explanations on how to write the perfect novel.
It explains why Drake loves to write so much. I mean with the printer, the laptop, and all the notes he sent me. It makes perfect sense.
Suddenly, the front door slams shut, and I squeal, dropping the book on the floor.
When I turn around, I can barely make out the figure standing in front of me, but I know it’s him. I can smell his intoxicating musky cologne and feel his penetrating stare.
I hold my breath as he bends over and picks up the book, holding it out to me as if I’m supposed to take it back. I slam my lips shut and wait. He frowns and then leans past me, hovering so close to me I can practically touch his skin. My heart skips a beat as I close my eyes, feeling the hot air waft past me as his hand reaches for the bookcase and places the book back where it belongs.
For a second there, I almost forgot what he was doing and thought he was going to kiss me on my neck.
Silly me.
But then, as he inches back, I feel his lips brush my skin.
***
Accompanying Song: “Obsession” by Golden State (Animotion Cover)
Drake
She’s here. Out of all places to be, she came to my home.
My territory.
Like a butterfly flying straight into the spider’s trap.
I can smell her, taste her fear, see it in her eyes, and it makes me want to claim her. Right. Now.
She came into my house, thinking she could snoop on me, but I already knew she was following me from the start. I waited for her to come after me. I’d planned it.
I wanted her to see my life … my home … me, for who I really am.
An obsessed recluse who lives eerily close to her.
It’s not a coincidence.
I hover near her, and I feel the magnetism between us. I only picked up the book she dropped to use it as an excuse to get close. She’s standing perfectly still, like a model waiting to see if she’s passed her inspection. I lick my lips, my senses electrifying from almost touching her. Her body is within my reach, and all I need to do is grasp it.
And as the book hits the shelves, I let my lips roam freely over her neck. I can’t stop myself anymore. I don’t want to.
She came here of her own free will.
That means something … it means she trusts me enough to want to seek me out.
Maybe she needs someone who will give her undivided attention when no one else does. Something no one else can do quite like me. Something so good … she just has to have it.
So I kiss her skin and listen to her suck in a breath. I plant my hand against the bookcase and trap her between my arms. My tongue darts out for a few quick, sultry kisses, and I can feel her body inching toward me, her breathing ragged. My dick is already hard from the sounds she makes, and I can tell she’s getting hot and bothered too.
But then she clears her throat and pushes me back. “No.”
I cock my head and look at her beautiful lips. “No?”
She licks her lips, biting them, not answering the question.
It’s as if she doesn’t even know what she wants anymore.
I sigh and turn around, casually sauntering toward the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Shower,” I grumble, annoyed with her indecisiveness.
My cock tents my pants, and I will it down, but it’s not happening. So I take them off, along with my boxer shorts, socks, and shoes. Then I pull off my shirt and throw it in the corner of the bathroom on the pile of clothes that was already there.
When I turn around to grab some shampoo, she’s still standing in the living room, blatantly staring at my naked body while blinking rapidly, her lips parting ever so slowly.
<
br /> A smirk grows on my face. “Seen a ghost or something?”
Her face glows red, and she stutters, “I can’t believe you just took off your clothes while I’m still here.” She swallows, visibly confused. “Do you want me to go? I can go.”
I shrug. I don’t see the problem. “You can stay.” I give her a smile, and she tentatively smiles back, trying to hide the obvious stare. I guess my cock stole the show.
“Okay,” she murmurs as I turn around and turn on the shower, wondering if she’s staring at my ass. She probably is, judging from the squeaks in her voice. “I’ll go sit down over here…”
I don’t answer, as it wasn’t a question, and I don’t see the point in discussing something completely irrelevant. I’m a man of actions, not of words, and I prefer the written word regardless. I could write whole essays about how her beauty captivates me and about all the things I would do to her to make her mine.
But she already knows that.
She’s seen my notes.
Touched herself to my dirtiest fantasies.
And now, I’m touching myself to them too.
Under the shower, my cock has done anything to cool down.
All I can think of is claiming her for my own, and it only makes me stroke myself more. I don’t even care that she’s in the room beside me. I need the release, one way or another, and if she doesn’t want it, then I’ll have to take care of it myself.
So I imagine her showering with me as I jerk myself off, picturing her naked body. I hiss and bite my lip, completely immersing myself in my own fantasy. The fact she’s right next door only makes it that much more exciting. That much more forbidden.
But when I open my eyes for just a second, I spot her standing in the doorway, with her mouth wide open.
16.
Accompanying Song: “Obsession” by Golden State (Animotion Cover)
Drake
I stop moving my hand, but my cock is still rock hard, and she’s looking at me with a mouth-watering expression on her face. She caught me right in the act, yet she doesn’t even seem angry. Or upset.
She just seems … frozen in place.
Completely mesmerized by my naked body.
I wonder what she’s thinking. If her thoughts just as devious as my thoughts are.
I brush the water off my face and look her straight in the eyes as I say, “Come here.”
With my index finger, I beckon her to come closer. It’s not a command. It’s an invitation. But if she takes it as such, I’ll have no problem with it.
I want to test her limits. I want to know what she’d do. If she’ll cross the line between infatuation and obsession. I’m already far beyond that, and she knows. That’s why she’s staring. Yearning with only a look. Questioning whether she’s allowed to look at me … maybe even touch me.
She doesn’t need to ask.
“You don’t just want to look,” I say. She doesn’t need to say it because I already know.
I cock my head and beckon her with my hand now.
She finally steps forward, one foot in front of the other, across the slippery floor and through the steaming fog.
Her thin, square-shaped body catches my eye, and I can’t help but allow my gaze to roam all over her body, taking in every inch. She looks so young, but she’s far from innocent now.
When she’s near me, I lick my lips and turn toward her with a full-fledged erection, not giving a shit that she can see it. All I care about is that she’s almost close enough to touch it. To taste it.
I look down at her as I tower above her and say, “On your knees.”
I wait … she does too … and I wonder if she’ll back out. If this is one step too far for her.
But she doesn’t. She actually goes to her knees right in front of me, her skirt soaking up the water as she hits the floor.
I swallow away the pent-up arousal that just exploded, making my cock bounce up and down from excitement.
Does she trust me enough to let me do anything to her? Or is this all a test to see whose side I’m on? Regardless … I’m not going to let this opportunity slip.
“Closer,” I murmur, and her face moves closer to me.
Without asking her if she’s okay with it, I start jerking off. Right in front of her. So close to her face, she could dip her tongue out and lick me. I’d fucking love that, and maybe I’ll make her do that in a minute. But for now, I want to enjoy the sight in front of me.
I reach for her face, tempted to touch her … and she actually lets me.
Running my finger gently down her cheek, I spoil myself by imprinting the image of her kneeling in front of me into my mind.
“Open your mouth,” I say after a while, my cock twitching with delight when she does exactly what I say.
Her lips part so beautifully that I just have to touch them. I let my thumb slide along her lips and down to her chin. Then I bring my cock closer and brush her lips with my tip, coaxing her to let me in.
The closer I get, the more frozen she becomes, but I don’t stop. Not unless she tells me to and I haven’t heard a single sound from her throat. That won’t last for long, though … that I’m sure of. She’ll be moaning by the time I get to her soaking wet pussy.
I gently slide my cock onto her tongue, and it feels so fucking sinful. I want to come right there and then, but I have to control myself. I want to enjoy this moment, so I blow out a breath and relax, letting her do the work.
Her tongue swivels across the tip, tickling my senses. I close my eyes and allow her to explore. Her mouth is wet and soft, and I can feel she’s getting into it the more time passes because her strokes get faster and she begins to suck.
So I take the opportunity to slide in deeper and tell her to massage my balls. She listens to every single one of my commands. It makes me wonder if I’m dreaming all of this. If so, I sure as hell don’t want to wake up.
The more she sucks, the harder I become, and I feel the urge to pump into her. So slowly, I allow myself to let go, softly thrusting in and out of her mouth. And she allows me to, goddammit. This is too good to be true.
Her clothes are getting soaked because the shower is still running, and rivulets of water stream down my abs, dripping onto her face. Water won’t be the only thing on her face, though … because I’m so fucking close.
The way she looks at me, with eyes that practically spell out for me to take her …
I have to have it all.
I pull back before I come down her throat, but it’s too late to stop, and I don’t want to wait anymore. As I jerk myself off in front of her, I come. I come in her open mouth, covering her with my cum. I groan, and my body quakes from the pent-up sexual tension finally releasing … all over her face.
But the more seed jets out, the more I feel I’m not done yet. And even though her clothes and face are a mixture of water and cum, I pull her up by her chin and kiss her. I don’t give a damn. The only thing that matters to me is that she lets me.
Instinct drives me to grab her ass and pull her into the shower with me. I don’t even care that she’s still fully clothed, and she doesn’t seem to mind either, judging from the fact that she’s allowing me to pick her up and haul her inside.
I shove her against the wall and yank up her skirt, tearing away her panties, as my dick is ready to claim her. I don’t wait one second before thrusting into her already wet pussy. It feels so good that I moan out loud, and it makes her mewl too. Her face is flustered, her eyes half-mast, and her pussy so damn warm and inviting.
The water is pouring down on us, but I don’t care, and neither does she. All we do is kiss and fuck hard, drowning out the voices in our heads telling us to stop.
Nothing … and I mean nothing … will make me stop wanting her.
I kiss her neck and leave my mark on her skin. I lick her wet body, letting my tongue slide all the way down her chest. And as I impale her on my length, she starts rocking along with me, h
er pussy clenching with need. I can feel the pressure rise, and I know she’s about to come, so I thumb her clit softly. Holding her up with one hand, I circle her clit until the pleasure bursts, and her muscles begin to tighten around my cock.
God, it feels so good.
And that sound she makes. I could listen to it every day.
Her face looks beautiful when she comes undone, and the mere sight of it makes me explode too. I come inside her, jetting my seed deep into her pussy. It’s the best fucking feeling ever.
I end with a kiss that’s as deep as my need for her to be by my side.
I know she will be mine. It won’t be long now.
Greg will be out of the picture soon.
17.
Accompanying Song: “Last Stand” by Kwabs
Hyun
The next day
I wake up to the smell of bacon filling my nostrils. I take a deep breath and open my eyes, rubbing away the sleep. Thin strips of sunlight pass through the thick, green curtains, blinding me as I look around the room. Fewer clothes are scattered around the room, and I can hear a washing machine running somewhere in another room.
When I throw the blanket off and let my feet sink to the beige carpet floor, that’s when it hits me. I’m not in my home.
I slept at Drake’s home. Did I fall asleep in his arms?
I don’t even remember falling asleep. All I remember is him carrying me to his bed after drying me off completely. I admit I was a bit hypnotized by the way he’d touched me … and used me for his own pleasure.
God, it was so sexy.
What have I been missing all this time? A lot, it seems.
This man knows how to please me. He knows exactly which buttons to push and how to make me do anything he says. It’s dangerous … and intoxicating. All I could think was that I was in his home, and he was in the shower … and I wanted to be with him. So I did.
Dirty Wife Games Page 10
