Sundays are for Hangovers

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Sundays are for Hangovers Page 6

by J. D. Hollyfield


  Shit, what’s he doing?

  He’s tapping away on my phone. Typing, swiping, typing some more. I turn to Daryl, who’s no help since he’s got a pillow over his face laughing. So much for that bodyguard.

  Finally, he tosses my phone back, and I barely catch it.

  “What did you just do?” I look down and see the Tinder app open.

  “At least when using my address, send over my type.” Then he turns and storms out.

  I look down and see he’s swiped a bunch of girls and given them his address.

  “He did not!” I turn back to Daryl in complete shock at what my jerkhole neighbor just pulled. “Can you believe him?”

  “Girl, you two need to just bang already.”

  What I need to do is take a bat and bang him in the head with it! I can’t believe he used my Tinder account to get laid!

  And not just laid by one. But by three tramps! He swiped himself three ugly girls, mind you. And in the past hour I’ve watched all three show up and NOT leave. What in God’s name is that guy doing over there? There’s no way he’s banging them all. He’s too anal to have a foursome. I mentally laugh at my jab, but then I hear giggling. I run to the window and watch all three women walk out, smiles from ear to ear on their ugly-ass faces.

  That jerk.

  What a sleazeball.

  “That’s it.”

  “What’s it?” Daryl asks, pulling his attention away from the TV.

  “I’m going over there and giving him a piece of my mind.” I storm over to the door.

  “In your lingerie collection? You may want to put some clothes on before doing that unless you want to become number four on his list for the day.”

  I pick up a gym shoe and throw it at him. He ducks, but not before letting out a howl of laughter.

  “He’s already seen this.” Which is true.

  I storm out and across his lawn. I make sure to smash my feet into the grass, knowing I’m damaging his precious lawn. When I get up to his front porch, I raise my hand to bang like hell on his door.

  Before my fist has the chance to make contact, the door flies open. A large hand grabs mine and yanks me inside.

  Saturdays are for All Nine Inches

  What the fuck is she even wearing?

  I glower at her as I take in her appearance. Red. I see red. Hidden behind a sheer robe of some sorts. Bra and matching panties. Definitely not something she should be strutting around the neighborhood in for all to see.

  “Let go of me, skank,” she yells at me, her cheeks blazing red with fury.

  Skank?

  I flash her a smug grin. “Oh, them.”

  She tries to pull her arm free, but I don’t let her go. Fuck, I don’t know if I can ever let her go. Not when she feels so right in my grip.

  “Yeah, them,” she practically growls. “I know you aren’t into orgies, Willy, so tell me what you were doing with all those hussies!”

  “How do you know I’m not into orgies?”

  She blinks and gapes at me. “You had sex with all three of them?”

  I pull her to me until her body is flush against mine. Her head tilts up so she can regard me, her brown eyes glimmering with accusation. She’s jealous. Sexy, rotten, evil little Lilith is jealous.

  “I had to teach them a lesson,” I say with a smirk.

  Her eyes narrow. “What sort of lesson?”

  My palm slides down her back and I settle it on her toned ass. “The important kind.”

  She bites on her bottom lip and fuck all if I don’t want to bite on it too. My cock aches between us.

  “Did you spank them?”

  I arch a brow. “No, but I threatened to. Mitzy was a mess. I really wanted to set her straight.”

  She lets out a frustrated sound and tries to push away. I hold her tighter against me with my hand firmly gripping her ass.

  “And Bailey?” I shake my head. “I’ll be seeing her again soon because she needs a lot more work.”

  “I hate you,” she breathes.

  I reach between us and tug at the silky belt that holds her robe together. It comes loose and her breath hitches.

  “But Lylah was the worst. I could work on her every day for weeks and she’d still be so—”

  “Enough!” she screeches. “I don’t want to hear about your conquests. You’re a pig, Wonka.”

  I’m amused at how pissed she is. It makes me want to provoke her some more. Payback’s a bitch.

  “You try to fight dirty, but I don’t lose, demon.” I lean forward and breathe against her ear. “Never.”

  She lets out a sigh when I slide the silky material of her robe off her shoulders. I want to see what she has hiding underneath. Lilith has a killer body and I’m not immune to it.

  “Why did you send them to my house?” I ask as the robe falls to the floor.

  “I was looking for someone to fuck me,” she taunts, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  Her words hit their intended mark because I’m instantly furious. “You were going to fuck one of those freaks?”

  She rolls her eyes and I pop her ass, making her squeak. “No, Wonka, I wasn’t going to fuck one because they were all creeps. I wanted to separate the good from the bad by sending them over here.” She smirks. “Unlucky for you, they were all bad.”

  “All I heard was blah blah blah you were going to fuck one if they were hot. Are you kidding me right now, Lilith? That was dangerous. You’re going to get yourself killed one day!” I snap.

  She squirms in my arms but frees her hand so she can pop me upside the head. “Still, none of your business.”

  I slap her ass hard and she yelps. “You,” I hiss, “are my business.”

  “If you cared so much, you wouldn’t have been getting freaky with all those kinky Tinder twats! You’re such an ass—”

  Gripping her jaw, I stare down at her. “I balanced their checkbooks.”

  “Ohhh, so that’s what we’re calling it nowadays,” she mocks. Then her voice turns deep as she imitates me. “I’ll add a seven right here.” Her hips thrust, rubbing against my erection.

  “You know I’d add a lot more than a seven. Try a nine, baby.”

  She snorts. “Why don’t you subtract one, Wonka? You may be Big Willy, but you ain’t that big!”

  Lifting her by her curvy ass, I walk her over to the nearest wall. Her legs wrap around my waist just as I grind against her center. “Do you feel that?” I growl. “Do we need to count the inches? Do I need to call Mitzy, Bailey, and Lylah over here to measure it for us?”

  “Asshole,” she breathes but rolls her head to the side, offering me her sweet neck.

  I run my tongue along the side of her neck until I’m at her earlobe. I bite it and then whisper, “Just admit you’re wrong. Besides, I’m the only man who’s allowed to touch this.” I rub against her in just the right way that has her moaning.

  “Maybe I wanted the dick-tucking Lance Armstrong to tuck his penis inside my—”

  I silence her taunt with my mouth. Kissing her is too easy. She’s a bad girl who makes me crazy but kissing her is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Maddening and exhilarating all at once. Her fingers find my hair and she tugs while she kisses me back just as hard. Our tongues are at war, but our bodies are desperate to connect.

  “Will,” she moans against my lips. “I want…”

  I hold her with one arm as I push my sweatpants down my thighs. “I know,” I murmur. “All nine inches.”

  She laughs but when I pull her pretty red panties to the side, she lets out a sharp breath of air. I tease her opening with my tip and then push all the way into her slick cunt before either of us has a chance to rethink our actions.

  Fuck, she’s tight.

  “Oh my God,” she whines, her fingers yanking at my hair.

  I find her mouth again with mine and dominate hers. My hips thrust against her and pleasure zings up my spine. This girl feels too damn good.

  “Will,” she murmurs. “What are we
doing?”

  “We’re fucking, baby,” I growl and then tug at her bottom lip with my teeth.

  Sliding my palm between us, I seek out her clit. As soon as I touch her there, her cunt clenches around my cock. I need to get her off quickly or I’m going to come like a loser after only a few moments of being inside her. Slowing my thrusting, I focus on bringing her to an orgasm. Her breathing is ragged and she keeps whimpering. With every passing second, she gets closer and closer.

  “You’re going to delete that app,” I bark, my teeth nipping at her jaw.

  She starts shaking as her climax nears. “And you’re going to stop balancing skanks’ checkbooks.”

  I laugh as I slam into her hard enough to knock a picture from the wall. It crashes to the floor, but I’m so wild for her, I don’t have it in me to worry about the mess right now.

  “Tax returns too,” she moans. “I know what a sneaky nerd you are.”

  A growl rumbles through me as I suck on her dainty neck. Her cunt clenches because my sweet neighbor from hell loves it. Well, I fucking love it too. I suck and suck, leaving marks all over her perfect skin as I fuck her into tomorrow. And just when my arm begins to ache from holding her up while I pound her like a nail into the wall, she loses it. Her body jolts and shudders, her pussy clenching so hard around me I nearly black out. My cock jerks as I spurt out my orgasm and I quickly pull out, the rest of my cum shooting on her belly between us and then sliding back down as gravity takes over.

  I slowly set her to her feet, but my hand doesn’t want to leave her ass. Ever.

  “I think you should stay over tonight,” I murmur, my lips brushing against hers.

  She shakes her head. “I can’t. I have to go see my parents in the morning.”

  “Then come over after,” I demand. “I’m not done with you.”

  I’m not sure I’ll ever be.

  She pushes me away and puts her hands on her hips. In her sexy red lingerie and my dripping cum painted all over her stomach, I’m about three seconds from not giving her a choice. I’d love to restrain my little demon in my bed.

  “You’ve got an evil look in your eyes, Wonka. Like that time I accidentally egged your house.” She sticks her tongue out at me and then leaps past the broken glass from the frame.

  “You can’t accidentally egg someone’s house, Lilith.” That shit really pissed me off.

  She shrugs as she picks up her robe and slides it back on, my cum soaking the material. “Just sayin’ you’re all kinds of evil tonight.”

  I take a step toward her and she backs up to the door. “Grandma will be here tomorrow for dinner,” I tell her. “You should come eat with us.” My grandmother will have a shit fit if she finds out we’re together. And even though Lilith is trying to hightail it out of here like her pants are on fire, we are together. She started it and I’ll finish it. With her in my bed all night where I can punish her sweet ass for an entire year for all the torment she’s caused me.

  “Evil,” she says with a laugh. “Bye, Willy.”

  She slips out and the door clicks closed behind her.

  This. Fucking. Girl.

  I grin because she’s doing my head in, again, and I like it.

  I’ve officially lost my mind over Lilith Hamilton.

  And I’m not sure I want it back.

  I clean up the broken frame and pace my house. I let her go. She’s been gone all of five minutes and I already miss her. Crazy-ass Lilith who’s been testing the limits of my sanity for a year now. When did she manage to get to me? I decide to take a long, hot shower to see if my feelings for her disappear with some time passing. But after imagining her naked and in the shower with me, I end up jacking off and it only makes me want her more. I dress in a pair of basketball shorts and throw on a T-shirt before heading to my front porch swing so I can spy on her. I grab my Gibson acoustic guitar on my way out.

  I settle in the swing and lazily strum some chords. It’s the only part of my past I couldn’t let go of. I’m lost in my thoughts—to a time when I was a really shitty human—when I hear voices. Lilith’s friend leaves and she waves to him from the porch. I greedily devour her appearance. She’s recently showered and put on something a little more normal. Black yoga pants and a pink tank top. Her brown hair is a mess twisted into an unkempt bun that makes her look hot as fuck.

  “Keep going,” she says from her yard.

  I strum my guitar again. “I will if you come sit with me.”

  She prances across the yard and bounds up my porch steps. I want to maul her the moment she sits, but she seems so eager to hear me play that I refrain. We don’t speak—an anomaly in and of itself—and I just strum songs from the nineties.

  “‘Polly’ by Nirvana,” she guesses as she leans against my side, resting her head on my shoulder as she yawns. “Easy.”

  “You know more than Snoop and Dr. Dre?” I deadpan.

  She laughs. “I’m full of surprises.”

  We grow quiet again and I play Pearl Jam’s “Better Man.”

  “I didn’t know you played guitar, Wonka.”

  “I’m full of surprises too.”

  Song after song I play and I realize this is the calmest I’ve felt in a long time. Usually, I’m wound so tight and everything agitates me. And now, the one who agitates me the most is giving me peace.

  “Lilith?”

  Her breathing is soft and rhythmic. She’s asleep. I lean over and prop my guitar against the house.

  I let out a sigh as I stroke my fingers down the outside of her arm. “I was a bad person,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me. “I was a bad person and this”—I wave around me—“this was supposed to be my way of fixing that. The perfect house. My hard-earned job. Yard of the damn month.” I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, willing those nightmares from my past to go away. “I’m sorry I’m still not a good person.”

  I scoop her into my arms and stand. She stirs slightly as I carry her next door. Once I’ve laid her on her bed and covered her with a blanket, I run my knuckles along her temple and leave.

  I’ve been such a dick to her.

  I was supposed to grow the fuck up and stop being a selfish asshole.

  And yet…I’ve done nothing but continually fuck up when it comes to her.

  Sundays are for Tiaras and Tongue Fucking

  “Lilith, dear, sit up straight.”

  Lilith, dear, sit up straight.

  I internally mock my nagging mother and scoot up in my chair, adjusting the tiara I wore to annoy her. When she phoned this morning suggesting what I should wear to brunch, she went on and on about royal weddings. This was her way of making it clear she wanted me in my Stepford wife outfit. The perfect fitting dress that poofs at the end. Nude heels because any other color would be too suggestive for a lady. And curls. Don’t forget the perfect girly, shoot me, curls. So, when I showed up in a turtleneck dress and a tiara, almost half an hour late, mind you, it left her with no time to drag me upstairs to my old room and redress me.

  I sit straight to please her but push out my breasts for dramatics. She gives me the ‘watch your manners’ look and I smile back with my sweet, ‘yes, Mommy Dearest’ look. Maybe if Loser Lance wasn’t going on and on about his boring lawyer cases, I wouldn’t be falling asleep at the breakfast table.

  “Lance, that is absolutely fascinating, isn’t it, Lilith?” Mother says and turns to me just as I shove a large strawberry in my mouth. The look of distress suddenly fills her aging features at my unladylike eating habits.

  “Oh, yeah, uh, yuper gweat.” I chew down the gigantic bite, juice from the strawberry dripping down my chin. I hear my mother sigh. Good. Maybe she’ll finally realize I’m a lost cause and leave me alone.

  “Maybe some time I can give you a tour of my office,” Lance says as if he’s doing me a favor.

  Maybe I should just throw myself off the balcony.

  I nod, putting another piece of fruit in my mouth, probably causing heart palpitations for
my poor mother, and reply, “Yeah, wow. Sounds like the best time ever, but right now I’m really busy at work.”

  “Lilith,” Mother warns me.

  “What? I am. The station has a great lineup of bands the next upcoming weeks, and D and I have to write scripts.”

  My father pulls the newspaper away from his face, closes it, and sets it on the dining room table. “You shouldn’t waste your time on that hobby. I’m sure they can find someone else to handle that. Lance, my daughter would love to tour your law firm.”

  Actually, no, I would not.

  And maybe now’s a good time to bring up what my father is trying to do with the radio station. This is exactly why I’ve been avoiding these damn brunches. Because my parents just don’t get it. They don’t get me. They can’t see past the person they’ve already created in their heads. And in those heads, I’m marrying Loser Lance and spending the remainder of my days planning galas and tea parties alongside my mother.

  Lance makes another attempt at conversation with me. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, you look lovely this morning,” he says, smiling like a stupid buffoon.

  I let out an accidental snort.

  “Lilith, manners,” my mother barks as I cover my mouth, trying to hide my laughter.

  Is he serious right now? I want to turn to him and tell him to stop talking. Maybe respond with thanks, I don’t normally wear turtleneck dresses in the middle of summer, but I went to pound town with my neighbor yesterday and he sucked the bejesus out of my neck, leaving tons of love marks. I currently resemble a horny teenage girl who let her nerdy but buff boyfriend suck all over her neck for the fun of it. It was fun, all right…

  Lance’s parents and mine have been friends since college. And when they grew older together they made plans. Plans Lance went along with as well. Little does Lance know I’m just not into guys with comb-overs and this story does not end with I dos and making mini comb-over, boring lawyer babies.

  God, that makes me want to gag just thinking—

  “Oh goodness, are you okay? Are you choking on some fruit?” Lance leans over, patting at my back.

 

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