Hate Sex

by Billy Storm

  HATE SEX

  by Billy Storm

  Cover design by Sidda Lee Rain and Janet Edwards

  Copyright 2015 Billy Storm/Sidda Lee Rain

  Contact Author

  Website: siddaleerain.com

  Email: siddaleerain@gmail.com

  Email: AuthorBillyStorm@yahoo.com

  FB: www.facebook.com/AuthorBillyStorm

  Twitter: @SiddaLeeRain

  This book may not be reproduced or used in parts or as a

  whole without permission from the author with the

  exception of quotes used for reviews.

  This book is a complete work of fiction any resemblance

  to people or events is purely coincidental. These

  characters and story lines are works of the author’s

  imagination and should be viewed as the fiction it is.

  This book is to be viewed by persons of age 18+

  It is an erotic romance and does include strong sexual

  scenarios and strong language.

  Author has taken artistic license in using products

  and brands in this book. They are not associated with the

  publication of this book outside of the Authors imagination.

  Damn Women Publishing electronic publication September 2015

  Damn Women Publishing print publication September 2015

  “A girl like me isn’t here

  living life.

  Rather, life is living me.”

  ~ Billy Storm

  Acknowledgements

  To my main “mutha truckaaaah” and brain sharer Dorothy F. Shaw, I can’t even guess the hours we’ve spent sprinting and discussing writing but I’m thankful for them. And, the late night FaceTime conversations that lasted far too long.

  Thank you, Jodie Bivins and Shannon Wrenn. The newest additions to my team of beta readers. Shannon, your comments have had me giggling like an idiot when I needed it the most. I adore you both.

  Of course, Mizz Tina Rose I thank you as well for the numerous screenshots and endless convos we’ve shared. It’s nice to have a broad who thinks like me. #RideOrDieBitches

  As always, thank you Jake Edwards for assisting me on every aspect of this damn journey. Somehow you make my ideas happen every time I say, “Soooo, I was thinking…”

  Chapter One

  **Skye**

  There was a time I prayed for Fridays. Those were the days. Now? Yeah, not so much. My fantasy world is over, my dreams shot to fucking hell and back again. I’m a bonafide adult and that means there’s no more time for the foolish, absolute nonsense that I once lost myself in for hours. Seriously fucking hours. Time I’ll never get back. Jesus, what the hell was I thinking? I’ll tell you exactly what I was thinking. I thought if only I was older, if only I had a job and a man. Fuck, that last one ended up being the biggest fucking joke of my life. A man. A fucking man. Well, now I’m older, I have a job—actually I have two and as for a man? I’ve had a helluva bit more than two. Not a one has left me satisfied for more than the time it takes to refill my eCig.

  Men. Yes, I shuddered when I said the word. That species is like a fucking plague to me. My skin feels as if it could break out in blisters just from thinking of testosterone. Ain’t one of those motherfuckers that have left me with anything but a bad taste, empty bank account, and disappointment in my panties. Bitter? Fuck to the yeah I am. Disney lied. My whole childhood was a preamble for shit. Lie after lie twirling across the screen singing to birds and shit. Prince Charming? Bullshit. I bet that Prince was a premature ejaculator and had one of those small crooked dicks that made you go on your toes to attempt to avoid the pain from literally fucking you sideways. I’ll never trust a man with better hair than I have. Never. Ever.

  As for a job—rather jobs? Yes, as in multiple. Ain’t that a bitch that employment has been my only experience in multiples? My goal of becoming a prima ballerina or a veterinarian—shut up I was young, stupid and loved my dog Poochie and the best dancer in my fifth grade ballet class.

  Come on already….I’ve been waiting for this order of chili cheese fries for fifteen minutes already. I’m really getting sick of the dirty looks that the frat shmucks are giving me. I don’t make the food I serve it, big fucking difference here, people. I just know I’m getting a shitty tip already, hell, if I even get a tip. College douche bags come in and out of here all night. Half lit, horny and think that the fat girl would be an eager lay because she’s gotta be desperate right? Fuck them. Fuck every single one of them. Not the fucking they want either. I’m thirty-eight years old, the absolute last thing I need is another young punk who doesn’t know what to do with his dick. Glancing back at the Alpha Beta Dipshits I bet there’s at least three whiskeydicks in the group of five anyway.

  Finally….it took twenty minutes to ladle some pre made chili onto some overcooked fries? Really?

  “Smile, Skye….just smile and go,” I whisper to myself before heading towards their table. I set the three plates of fries down as fast as I can without dropping anything, grab the empty glasses and flee before the boys can do anything but shove far too hot chili cheese fries into their big mouths. Knowing I’m smirking when I hear one of them cursing after he piled the piping hot crap into his pie hole I quickly walk away without a second glance. I hurry back to the soda machine to refill their drinks before they start whining. “Shit! Was that a Coke or a diet?” I mumble to myself. Mumbling nothing new to me. “He’s getting a Coke.”

  I haven’t always been this much of a hot mess….I’m tired, I’m so tired and honestly just….lost. This is nothing like what I had planned for my future. Big goals, ideas, and my future so mapped out that it was like the bitch was on rails.

  Naive? Bet your ass I was. Although, I had no idea I was at the time. I blame my parents. After all, I was teenager, then, I was in my early twenties and daddy’s girl. To say I was spoiled was an understatement of epic proportions. I was invincible, forever young and too special to end up where I am. My sister was the same.

  Well, dads die and mothers remarry. Mine happened to remarry a slime ball—complete opposite of my father. She sold my childhood home seven months to the day after my fathers heart attack. I was twenty-four and basically homeless and so was Rain. Yes, Donna, my mother hopped into Butch’s Peterbuilt and hit the highway. I haven’t even seen her in the last six years. Rain being three years my senior made the transition far easier than I. She’s only an hour away from me but it feels like so much more. I feel orphaned, I feel lonely and I wish I still had my family. God, I miss my father. There was no one like Michael Blake. No one.

  Dropping off the drinks I was almost home free when I turn to walk away and one of the Alpha Beta Fuckwads grabs my wrist.

  He looks at me in that creepy ass way men have. You know, from the tips of your shoes slowly—way too slowly up until they reach your face, kinda. Okay, this kid only made it to my tits—not the first time for that either. “Can we get the bill, hon and I’d like your number too.”

  Fucking kill me….please?

  I instantly whip out their bill and place it on the table with a smile thanking them before I walk away. Noway am I going to look back. Not a chance in hell. Glancing at my watch, I’m sad to see I still have two hours of this shit. The later it gets the more crap I have to deal with. Mindlessly I wipe empty tables and start refilling salt and pepper shakers. Never said I wasn’t glamorous, did I? Thankfully the chili fries guys left without anymore shit and just as I expected a two dollar tip. Two dollars? Really? I only waited on them for two hours as they sat there loud as hell and scaring away other customers. “Two dollars!”

  An hour later the diner is empty, my feet hurt and I’m hungry as hell. Grabbing myself a small order of fries a
nd a root beer I decide to take a quick break. After all, I get off at midnight, then, I need to go to my next job until four. Yes, four in the goddamn morning. This shit ain’t for the weak.

  Whipping out my smartphone I lose myself in status updates and hashtags. What? Sue me I enjoy the mindless shit online. I really do. What the hell did people do before social networking?

  “Do you really think you should be eating those, sweetheart?” I look up to a pair of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

  Wait, what did he just say….

  He’s a customer, he’s a customer, he’s customer, I chant in my head. “Can I help you, sir?” Sir Fuckhead went unsaid.

  He pulls out the chair across from me and helps himself to my fries. Jesus, he dipped in my ketchup. Who does that? I double dip, asshole. I wish PMS was contagious. “Hello? What the hell, dude?”

  He looks at me and smiles. Smiles. What in the fuck?

  Shaking his head, “dude?”

  I know I’m scowling, I know that’s a good way to get wrinkles but I’ll make up for it later. One thing I’m good at? Resting bitch face, it’s kinda a skill I have mastered. Hey, we all have our gifts. When he continues to sit there smirking at me it pisses me off. “Yeah, dude as in you, as in what do you think you’re doing, dude?” Because fuck him.

  The smirk turns into a full-blown smile. Dudes got a lot of teeth in that mouth of his. “I’m helping you out—“

  “Helping me out?” Shit, I hand’t meant to say that out loud.

  He leans forward and grabs my soda and oh hell no! Yup, he drinks straight from my straw like he fucking knows me. In shock I’m not even sure what to say to that?

  Cringing he says, “root beer? What are you twelve?”

  What the fuck? I have no clue who this DUDE even is and he’s all up in my business. “I’m thirty-eight, thank you and if I want a root beer I’m gonna have a root beer.”

  The stranger eyes me up the same way the stupid frat boy did but this time I pretend I don’t feel his eyes on me like they were roaming fingers. Whoa! I seriously need to get laid. Sure as shit not by this dumbshit though.

  He whistles, “thirty-eight, huh? Shit, you’re a lot older than I thought.”

  Well, fuck him. Older? A lot older? I really don’t think the word a lot needed to be thrown out so recklessly. “I’m not old.” Pushing the fries away from me because A: who could eat after that verbal bitchslap and B: who knows where his hands have been? No thank you on crab infested fries. Is that possible? Who knows but I don’t want to find out.

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He says as he fills his mouth with more of MY fries and MY ketchup.

  I clamp my mouth shut before I start spewing words that would end up with my dismissal and I need this job. I hate this job but I need it. Fingers snap in front of my face and suddenly words aren’t enough I want to junk-punch this guy.

  “Hellooooo?”

  I snap, “What?” I’m losing my patience with this guy. Glancing at my phone I’m pleased that at least I only have twenty minutes left before my shift ends.

  “Got somewhere you gotta be, sweetheart?”

  “As a matter of fact I’m about done with my shift.” Gritting my teeth I proceed to do my job whether I want to hurt him or not. “Can I get you anything before I leave, sir?” Rat poison, maybe?

  “I think I’m good with the fries you bought me, sweetheart.”

  Then, he winked. Yeah, winked like some creepy ass who looks at you like he’s going to kidnap you on the street. We all know the kind. The kind of crazy ass that has a broad locked in his basement. I seriously wonder how many of those kind of sickos we pass on the sidewalk everyday. Looky, looky, I’ve got one right in front of me….oh joy. Too bad for him I pack a mean right hook and fat people are harder to kidnap.

  Squinting his eyes at my name badge I prepare myself for what’s coming.

  “So Skyyyyyye, hot date with your cat after this? Marathon of Molly Ringwald movies, maybe? All while cuddling with Ben and Jerry?” He laughed. The asshole laughed. I get it, I do….single woman on her way to being one of those crazy cat ladies with no one to snuggle up with besides a pint of Cherry Garcia and corny movies starring another undesirable woman.

  So, just for spite….I lied. Why? Because, fuck him that’s why. “I like dogs, action movies and I prefer to snuggle up with Mitch and Matt.” His face right now? That’s why I lied.

  Slipping from the table without another word I punch out, say a quick hello to my relief Mandy. Hitting the bathroom before I leave I change from my uniform that reeks of a deep fryer and grease and get dressed for job numero dose. Darkening my makeup, I apply black eyeliner and another layer of mascara. Cursing as my lipstick breaks I see it as a crystal ball, this is gonna be a long night.

  **Jaden**

  Walking into the diner I see her. I’ve seen her numerous times before since I work across the street. Not that I’ve ever come into the diner before. Jesus, I work at a fucking gym the last place I need to be is some shithole greasy spoon. But today I couldn’t resist. I’ll admit the fries tasted awfully damn good but I bet Miss Skye tastes better. She’s definitely a live wire. I’m not exactly sure why I was an ass and yeah, I know I was an ass but I couldn’t get enough of that spark in her eyes. Honestly? I got hard as fuck when she looked at me like I was scum of the earth. Twisted? Maybe. A turn on? Fuck yes.

  She sure couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Not that I minded watching her walk away. Dat ass. Since when does a thick girl get my attention? Hell if I know. Never happened to me before but there’s no mistaking it now—my cock is so hard that I could fuck straight through a brick wall without a second thought. Probably best Skye left, in this state I’d fuck her in two. Damn sassy mouth. Sassy, sexy mouth. Skye, even her name makes my dick twitch. Not often has a woman walked away from me and by often? I mean never. I’m use to getting what I want and I want to grab a hold of Skye’s big ass and I want to fuck her until she can’t walk, then, I want to slip my dick between her big tits and fuck her there until I come all over that same sassy, sexy mouth. Graphic much? Damn straight. I’m a man and we’re visual, right? I am visual and that’s what I pictured in my head as I sat across from her as she shared her fries with me. Shared? Like I gave her much choice.

  Looking up when I hear the restroom door squeak I see her, Skye walking out the door. Gone was the bun at the back of her head, her hair hung halfway down her back in raven curls that were wavy from being wrapped in a tight bun for hours. Sweet mother of….I was drawn to her mouth before but now? Fuck now, all I can think of is those full red lips wrapped around my cock as I push so deep she gags. I love when they do that.

  Where the hell is she going dressed like that? That uniform was a crying shame compared to Skye in snug jeans that hugged her gracious hips and round ass. And if I’m not mistaken….someone slipped into a pushup bra—not that she needed one. Nope, those tits were a lot more than a handful and I was looking forward to the challenge of holding them. Obviously she wasn’t going home to a cat dressed like that. I’m not about to ask her—she wouldn’t tell me shit and I wouldn’t blame her.

  Watching her pop the trunk to her Ford Focus she simply tossed her backpack inside of it and slammed it shut. I already knew she drove the black Focus. I’ve seen her coming and going in the little thing on numerous occasions.

  After she drove off I watched her make a left on Forrester, hmm….downtown. Guess, I didn’t figure her for a clubbing kinda girl. Surprise, surprise, huh?

  Curiosity killed the cat or in this case? Curiosity got answers the sneaky ass way.

  I snagged the waitress as she walked by swapping ketchup bottles. “Miss….” I read her name tag, “Mandy, I was suppose to meet up with Skye later but she was going to get me directions and I take it she forgot.” She looked down at my phone laying on the table. I grab it and answer what I know she’s thinking. “My cells dead or I’d call her.” I push the button on my phone shutting it off beneath th
e table. The last thing I need is the damn thing ringing right now.

  After she looks her fill of me she finally answers. “Left on Forrester here and take a left onto fifth street, then, it’s about five or six blocks until you hit Oakly.”

  “It’s on Oakly?” I ask.

  “Take a right on Oakly, it’s right there, you can’t miss the pink neon lights even if ya tried.”

  “Pink lights, got it.” Walking across the street to my gym, yeah, it’s my gym. I don’t only work there but I own the place. Only good thing I’ve ever done in my life, hell, the only thing I’ve ever completed. I absolutely love it too. My own boss, my own rules, it’s all on me. Then again? It’s all on me.

  I know that I should steer clear of Skye, I really should. Definitely not a relationship type of guy and she looks like the relationship kinda chick. Most likely I’ll fuck her up, I’ll taint her with my own shit. I’ve got issues by the gallon, okay, okay, by the fifty gallon drum. But, I’m so selfish I’m not willing to walk away until I get what I want and for some reason I want her.

  One evening I watched her walk across the street when she had parked in front of my gym. The diners parking lot was full, some classic car night thing they did once a month. Basically a bunch of old guys and their cruisers. I could care less about classic cars but I did enjoy the view of her shuffling across the street. Even after I told her she couldn’t park there. God, I remember that day like it was yesterday. Not even bothering to turn around and look at me she flipped me the bird and told me to it was public property. Then, the sassy shit told me to call the cops and have her towed if I didn’t believe her. She was right. I don’t own the street in front of my business but it still pissed me off.

  I’ve thought of her everyday since. Like some fucking pervert I watch for her to arrive just before four o’clock and I see her leave around midnight. The gym closes at eleven but I’m always there for an extra hour or two every night. Like I said the gym is the one thing in my life that I’ve actually accomplished and I’m gonna make sure it stays going strong. At first I tried to blow off this crazy attraction I’ve got going on for her. After all, I own a goddamn gym and she’s definitely not the physically fit type of woman you would see on a personal trainers arm. Harsh? I don’t think so. I’d prefer to think it’s just honesty. Acting like she didn’t affect me was impossible. I don’t even have to look at the clock to know what time it is—no, my dick is like a fucking sundial and I’m hard before she even gets out of her car.