I groan inwardly. More shit to deal with. Fucking high school teachers. How annoying.
"Yes, I'll drop by next week," I promise in a clipped tone. "Was there anything else?"
"No, I just-"
I cut the call and sigh. It's becoming more and more obvious taking Alice in like this was a fucking mistake.
The phone rings again and I curse before picking it up.
"I'm a very busy man, Mr. Russet," I say, trying to be as polite as possible given that I'm pissed and tired.
"I can tell that by the fact you've ignored every one of my calls."
I groan and rub the bridge of my nose. "I don't need this right now, Karen."
"We need to talk," she tells me. "We have to."
"Have you signed the papers?" I ask her.
She's quiet.
"Karen," I warn her. "Have you signed the fucking divorce papers?"
"I will," she promises for the umpteenth time. "I just need to see you before I do."
Probably to spew more fucking abuse at me.
"I don't have time now, Karen," I say tiredly. "Let's talk another time."
I cut the call and turn off my phone for the night. Not dealing with any more shit tonight.
I head inside the house and see several lights on inside. I guess Alice is home, then. I don't call out for her as I open the door. Truth be told, I wish she were gone. I just want to go out and fuck someone I'll never see again after tonight. But now I'm stuck with a damn teenager I have to take care of, and I'm not sure any amount of money will make up for lost time.
I walk into the kitchen and stop in my tracks at the door.
She's there alright, wearing my fucking shirt and a pair of the tiniest panties I've ever fucking seen. Alice is leaning over and taking something out of the oven, her ass exposed and so fucking juicy it makes me want to streak it red and blue all over.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask her sternly. My hands are shaking, and I'm fucking embarrassed about it. This girl. This girl is fucking temptation on legs.
She swirls around with a tray in her hands. There's some seriously burnt shit on it, and she giggles as smoke fills the room.
"Alice," I warn her. "What did you do?"
"I made cookies," she exclaims. "Well, I tried to." She furrows her brows at the sight of the tray.
I walk over to the window and open it wide to get some of the smoke out. "You need to clean this shit up," I tell her, motioning towards the counter covered in flour. "I have to make actual dinner."
She sets the tray down and comes to stand in front of me. She's so much smaller, and her feet are tiny, her toenails painted a bright shade of red. It's cute.
"We can order pizza," she says.
"You need proper food," I mutter, setting my briefcase down. "Why the hell are you wearing my shirt, Alice?"
She bites her lip and tugs on the hem of her shirt as I look at her. I can fucking tell what she's doing. There's a glint in her eyes, and as good of an actress as she thinks she is, she isn't fooling me. She's faking being the good girl again, except I have no damn idea why.
"I... found it," she says, pulling it up ever so slightly, but revealing her creamy thighs nonetheless.
I shouldn't be fucking turned on. I should make it clear this won't work.
"I don't want you wearing my stuff," I tell her, crossing my arms in front of my body.
She pouts, and I can tell she's offended. Good.
Then I think of something really fucking mean, and I say it before I can change my mind.
"Take it off," I order her. "It's my shirt."
Her eyes widen. "I'm... Don't make me," she mumbles.
"Take my fucking shirt off," I tell her, and my cock twitches in my pants so hard I'm sure she fucking saw it. "I don't want it on you."
"I'm not wearing-" she protests, but I glare at her and she grumbles quietly.
"Fine," she spits out, and there it is again. That fucking glint in her eyes.
Did this little girl just fucking play me?
She lifts up the hem of her shirt and lifts it up over her head. I try to look away, I swear I fucking do. But when her cotton gray thong comes into view, and then her flat belly, and then she keeps lifting it and lifting it, I almost fucking press her against the wall.
She's not wearing a bra. Her tits aren't too big, perfect little handfuls, and her nipples are pink.
I don't look away as she hands me my shirt. I look at her nipples and feel like a fucking pervert, but I can't look away. I watch them tighten into little buds and I let out a groan, because this is fucking insane, it's too fucking much, it's too damn crazy.
I take my shirt from her hands and risk a look into her eyes. I regret it right away.
They're desperate.
They're hungry.
She wants me.
I want her.
God, do I fucking want her.
I want to fuck that little glint in her eyes and turn it into something I'll like better.
Obedience.
"Go to your room," I tell her, and she turns around to leave. Her back is fucking perfection; her ass is tight and her legs are miles long. Her hair's in a ponytail, high on her head. I want to wrap it around my hand and make her head bob on my cock.
I stare at her, and I don't even make it seem as if I'm not doing it. And then I see something between her legs, and even though I try to convince myself it's just a shadow, it makes me worry.
"Alice," I call out after her, and she turns back. I don't look at her tits, or her tight little ass, or the way her breath hitched in her throat. I look into her eyes.
"Come back here."
Her eyes light up and she comes back, her hands on her thighs.
"Spread your legs," I tell her, and her eyes go wide, wider than I've ever seen them.
"I..." she starts to say, but she gulps down her fear and stands apart.
I go to her, and slap her thighs wider apart. She moans, and it's too fucking much.
"What is this, Alice?" I ask her roughly, my fingers not even on her yet.
"W-what?" she moans.
"What's on your thighs, Alice?" I repeat.
She looks down at me as I kneel next to her pussy, panting heavily. Her eyes meet mine and she blushes so furiously, I feel like she'll pass out from it.
And then she realizes what's going on, and she shuts her legs in front of my face. Her pussy smells fucking amazing. I have to hold back so much; I almost need to make myself shut my eyes.
"Nothing," she mutters, and turns to leave.
I get up and grab her arm roughly, turning her to face me. I grasp her wrists and pull her tightly against me.
"Are you hurting yourself, Alice?" I ask her roughly, and she squirms to get free of my grasp.
"No," she mutters. "You are!"
I twist her arms uncomfortably and she yelps. Not enough to hurt her. Enough to make her stop struggling. Her fiery eyes are on mine. Her body's shaking.
And the inside of her thighs is covered in big, black bruises.
"Alice," I say. "What did you do? What did you fucking do to yourself?"
She tries to wrench free and when I don't budge, she starts sobbing. One moment she's pissed, and the next second, she's fucking crying so hard her body twitches in my arms.
I pull her closer against me, with her back against my chest. She struggles so hard I have to grab her midriff and hold her in place. She can't even breathe; she's sobbing so hard.
I can't stop myself.
I fucking can't.
My fingers part her legs and I touch the bruises she put on her body. She stops sobbing. She gasps, once, light as air.
"What did you do?" I repeat in her ear, and she arches her back against mine. "What did you do to this body?"
There aren't just bruises. I can feel small scars under my fingertips. All on the inside of her thighs. Covering them.
I loosen my grip and she uses it. She turns around in my arms, and she pulls my shirt to
wards her, really fucking hard. Her lips are on mine, and I don't close my eyes. I don't move. I watch her kiss me with all the need she's felt for years now, all the fucking hate she feels for everyone, all the anger she needs to let out.
I don't stop her because I can't.
I don't kiss her back because it would fucking break her.
She tastes good. Fruity.
My finger's still on her thigh, and I feel her getting hot. Then, I feel her drip a little.
I open my mouth in a groan and she fucking uses it, forcing her tongue inside it and showing me all the damn things I'm missing every second I'm not inside her.
Five
Jacob
She's using me when I'm supposed to be the one bringing her to her knees. And I'm fucking letting her, because I'm so damn weak when that mouth is on mine.
I let her get a good taste while I try to compose myself. I let her taste everything she wants so fucking badly because we both know this is the first and last time she gets to play like that.
And finally, when I feel her drips so much my fingers are soaked, I grab her waist and pull her off me. I feel the loss of her, the warmth leaving my body, my dick standing hard and proud and so desperate to be inside her wet holes.
I don't say a single word, I just let her breathe and go back to being the pretty, reserved girl I know her to be. She seems to realize what she did with a gasp and she backs away, one step at a time. Her hands fly up to her mouth and she breathes through her tightly clasped fingers.
"It's okay," I tell her softly. "It's okay, Alice."
"It's not," she gasps. "I didn't... I didn't mean to, just... fuck."
She leans against the doorframe and I keep my distance as I shrug off my blazer with a sigh. I shield my hard cock from her eyes by turning my back on her, but I can still hear her wheezing little breaths.
"I'm leaving for a while, Alice," I tell her calmly. "But we need to talk first."
I know she wants to run to her room and hide. I know she wanted to play a game, but as soon as she pressed her lips to mine, the game was over and I was the one in charge, even though she was practically climbing on top of me.
"Where a-are you going?" she asks shakily.
"I'll be back late," I reply, ignoring her question. "But I need to talk to you about this, Alice. Sit down on the couch."
She walks over like she's in a trance and I offer her my blazer to cover up her naked tits. She accepts it with shaky hands and slides it over her shoulders. I regret not being able to stare at her pretty nipples anymore, but we both know it's for the best.
I start unbuttoning my shirt because I'm a fucking bastard and I need her eyes on mine. I love knowing how wet she is, how fucking badly she wants me inside her.
"You're not going to hurt yourself again," I tell her as I strip my shirt off.
"W-what?" she gasps.
"Never," I point out sternly. "If I catch you hurting yourself, you're getting punished. And not in a way you'll like."
"But what about..." she starts, but the words dry up in her mouth and she doesn't keep talking. "I thought you wanted to talk about..."
"Alice," I interrupt her. "Did you understand me?"
I can see her fingers going between her legs. I don't know whether she wants to touch her soaked little pussy or press down on the bruises she has there to have a bit more pain.
"No hurting," she nods.
"Will you be a good girl for me?" I ask her, and her eyes settle on my abs, drinking in the body she can never have.
"Y-yes," she whispers. I take the shirt she'd worn before and put it on. It smells like her. Just what I needed.
"If I catch you doing it," I continue, taking off my belt. "I'm going to make sure your mother knows. And I'll tell her about every time you've defied me. And she won't be happy with either of us. Do you know what that would mean, Alice?"
I stretch the belt out in my hands and walk closer to her. She swallows, shaking her head.
"It would mean you wouldn't be able to live here anymore," I say softly, snapping the belt and putting it in her lap. She's shivering. "It would mean you'd have to go live somewhere else. And it would be much, much worse, Alice. Do you understand?"
Her eyes are on the belt, and she's shaking.
I tip her chin back, and she closes her eyes firmly, her thick lashes resting on her cheeks.
"Look at me, doll," I say softly, and her eyes fly open.
I don't want to take it back. She is a fucking doll, all pretty and perfect, but hollow on the inside. I want to fill her up.
Alice's eyes are bright and pretty. She'd make any man go insane. I know I'm damn close right now.
"See that belt on your lap?" I ask her, and she nods without looking down. "Okay, doll. For every day you don't hurt yourself, we'll put a hole in that belt."
"W-why?" she asks shakily.
"So you have proof of what a good girl you've been. Okay?"
She nods, and her eyes fill with tears. Fuck, I don't want to leave her. But I don't trust myself right now. I have no doubt we'd fuck if I stayed at home.
"Okay," I say gently, caressing her soft, porcelain cheeks. "Pick a movie that's on tonight. Tomorrow at breakfast, you'll tell me about it. You can have a friend over, if you'd like."
She stares at me blankly.
"Maybe someone from school? You were talking to a girl this morning," I suggest, taking my hands off her.
"No," she shakes her head. "I'll be fine, thank you."
She curls up on the couch in my blazer. She's hurting, but I can't do shit about it. I need to get out of here.
I turn on the TV for her and grab a leather jacket from the closet. I give her one last look before heading for the door. She's staring at me.
"Are you going to fuck someone tonight?" she asks me softly.
I look at her for a long time, but I don't say anything.
"That was my first kiss," she admits. "You... you were my first kiss."
I walk away and lock her inside the house.
I make myself cum in the car, in the driveway of my own fucking house.
"You're a therapist?"
"Yeah," I nod with a grin. She giggles and slides closer to me on the chair.
"So?" she purrs. "What about me? Can I have a diagnosis?"
I look the woman over. Mid-thirties, pretty, thick layer of makeup on her face that she doesn't even need. Wants to be younger, is probably afraid of her age because she believes her best years are over. Probably a little manic, judging by the way she's spinning a ring on her finger wildly.
I'm suddenly disinterested. She's been all over me since I came to the bar, occupying the empty seat next to me after nothing more than a few looks. She's beautiful, sure, but she doesn't have the dark hair, the perky little tits, the fucking personality I crave so badly.
"Listen, darling," I tell her, motioning for her to come closer. She leans over eagerly, her eyes drinking in every move I make.
"You're not gonna die tomorrow. You don't need to fuck me to feel that," I tell her. "Your fiancé's probably waiting back home, right?"
She eyes me guiltily and I grin at her. Of course, I felt the fucking rock on her ring. She'd brushed her fingers against mine, and I knew she'd turned the ring over to seem single.
So desperate to have some excitement, but too in love to completely deny the existence of her boyfriend. Or maybe this is what she gets off on, knowing she's engaged while she fucks someone else.
"Does it bother you?" she whispers. "That I'm engaged."
"Yeah," I reply, shrugging and downing my drink. "Call me old-fashioned."
I motion towards two guys at the other end of the bar. "Those two, though, might be just what you want."
She follows my gaze and her eyes grow hungry as she eyes the guys. "Both of them?" she asks me.
"Sure, why not?" I wink at her. I throw some money on the counter and head outside, waving at her as I leave. She only stares at me for a moment before the two guys approa
ch her. I smile to myself as I wait for a cab outside.
I didn't want to get drunk. I wanted to fuck a pretty girl and forget all about Alice, but after several unsuccessful attempts, even though the women were all for it, I accepted that it wasn't happening.
I eye my car in the parking lot, hoping it stays safe till the morning. The cab ride home is short, and I have to force myself to stop thinking about Alice on the way back.
I pay the cabbie and make him stop a block away. I don't need Alice to know I got too fucking hammered to drive back.
The lights are off, and I unlock the door quietly. As I walk in, I wonder if she's asleep already, or just feeling sorry for herself in her room. I hope she earns that hole in my belt.
I strip in the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. She's fucking with my head, and I don't like it. All I want to do right now is go into her room and fuck her brains out. And then tuck her into bed and make sure she stays safe.
I'm about to head to my room upstairs when I hear her moaning. She's so loud the stairway's full of her gasps, even though all the doors are closed.
I have a grin on my face as I walk upstairs. I listen at the door of her room, but it's quiet. And then I realize what's going on.
My little doll is playing with herself in my bed.
I stand at the door, as quiet as I can. I listen to her make pretty sounds with her pussy. Her moans are short, quiet and sharp. Pretty, just like she is.
When I've fucking had enough, I open the door wide and find the room enveloped in darkness. She stops right away, and closes her eyes too tightly, pretending she's sleeping. But I can see her shaking under the duvet. And the whole damn room smells like sex.
I open a window. Her heart must be beating loudly. Her breaths are uneven and almost panicked.
I lean down and pick her up from the bed, cradle her in my arms. She's still just wearing that fucking thong. Fucking shit. Her naked skin against mine feels sinful.
"No," she mutters. "Please, no."
"Alice," I whisper against her ear, and she puts her arms around my neck. "You need to sleep in your own room."
His Doll: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 3