Gemma had been the reason I had cum like a freight train. Shooting my load up my daughter’s friend without a second thought.
“I’ll pass.” I slapped Blair’s bare ass hard. “Thanks though sweetheart. It was fun.” Moving past her I headed down the two steps that separated the pool table from the rest of the bar. My eyes searching through the crowd.
What I wanted now was a drink. A stiff one and a chance to regroup. I didn’t need some whiny bitch begging for more dick.
I had given her what she wanted.
“Where’s Chelsea?” My feet came to a halt at The table my son was sat as with his woman on his lap. As always Avery looked like she had been sucking on bitter lemons.
Ruin turned his head, his expression dark as he stared at me but he didn’t say a word. None of them did. They just stared at me like I had done something unforgivable by getting it on with a willing female. Something I had done in front of them a dozen times before.
I didn’t know what their problem was but I knew I didn’t have the time or patience for it.
“Does someone want to tell me where the hell Chelsea is?” I had seen her boy next door boy toy propping up the bar with a club girl hanging from him, so I knew she wasn’t with him.
Gemma broke the uneasy silence. “She’s gone, and no one would blame her if she never speaks to you again.”
There was a murmur of agreement as she swept passed me, her shoulder knocking into my arm.
I hesitated for only a second and then turning on my heel I followed her.
Chapter Four
Blair
Anger bubbled up as I yanked the dress up, tying the halter around my neck before letting my long hair fall back down my back.
My eyes stung with tears. I knew they wouldn’t fall because I just wasn’t the crying type. But I had never been so humiliated in my entire life.
Fender had used me like I was nothing more than a piece of meat, leaving me naked and bare for everyone to see.
It didn’t matter that I had wanted to fuck him or more specifically wanted him to fuck me. I was humiliated.
No man in my entire Nineteen years had ever said no to me when I offered him seconds. I was good at sex. Better than good. I had been told on numerous occasions that I was phenomenal. And yet Chelsea’s dad had turned me down flat.
Like whatever had just happened between us was the end of it. It wasn’t.
I would say when we were finished. Not him.
I always called the shots.
“What the fuck do you think you are looking at?” I growled to the sea of eager Male faces.
No one answered, one laughed though. A low mocking sound.
“Well?”
“We are looking at a desperate tramp.” One finally said.
“You enjoyed watching this tramp though, didn’t you? Did it make you jizz in your pants?” My voice was rising and I didn’t care.
They were all hypocrites. Standing around getting their rocks off as I got screwed and then calling me a tramp? What gave them the right?
“Did you want me to give you a go?”
The man’s face slammed down. “Sweetheart I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth. God knows what I would catch.”
“I would touch her Gent.” Someone else piped up. “If I wore a few condoms. Maybe I would let her suck me off though. What do you say?”