Slade (Walk Of Shame #1)

Chapter Thirteen
Slade



F*ck! This is going to be a shitty day . . .
I take a long drag of my cigarette and hold it in while leaning my body weight against the side of the building. I’ve been outside smoking for the last twenty minutes and I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot more than just this shit before I’m able to collect myself enough to go back inside. My head is all f*cked up.
I can feel my hands shake as I exhale and cross my arms over my chest to calm my breathing. My nerves are so f*cking shot today that I’m surprised I even made it out of bed to begin with. My mind hasn’t stopped spinning since I kicked Aspen out of my room this morning.
What the f*ck?
I toss my cigarette down, turn around to face the building and punch it repeatedly. What I wouldn’t give right now for a f*cking release; some kind of distraction. My mind is in such a haze I don’t even notice the crackling of bones and splitting of skin. Does it hurt? F*ck yeah, but physical pain I can deal with. I’m not good at dealing with this shit. The pain shooting through my hand does little to rest the demons inside my head. All it does is piss me off more.
I look up with guarded eyes when I hear some voices nearby. A few girls in passing; laughing and talking amongst themselves. The voices keep getting closer. I’m standing off towards the back of the building next to a dark alley that separates two buildings. It’s not very often people come back this way. It’s usually my f*cking safe place; a place where I can think.
“Is that you, gorgeous?”  
A slim figure rounds the building and my eyes are quick to scan it out. Every single inch of it. A pair of long, slender legs lead up to firm thighs, followed by a curvy set of hips hugged by a barely there dress and a firm set of breasts. I know those breasts anywhere.
My eyes continue to marinate in the hot as hell female I recognize as the sexy redhead from the other day. She’s no longer dressed in work attire. The perfect example of a little sugar and spice, that’s for damn sure. She’s in far less now.
F*ck me.
She smiles when she notices me checking her out. She’s definitely enjoying giving me a good show and I’m enjoying the view. She found a damn good time to give it too. “Sarah told me I could find you back here. You busy?” She works her lips together, smearing her red lipstick while putting her cigarette out on the bottom of her heel. “I have some extra time tonight and was hoping I’d find you.”
Wiping my bloodied fists on the back of my pants, I step closer to the temptation in front of me and look her up and down, taking her all in. “Are you sure you have enough time for me? This may take a while. A long f*cking while.”
Looking over her shoulder, she sends her friends off with a wave of her hand before turning back and flashing me a seductive smile. Her demeanor turns serious while checking out the bulge in my jeans. “I definitely have time for you.”
She steps toward me, places her hands on my chest and backs me up against the building. I know exactly where she’s going with this and I can’t deny I need exactly that.
I pull out another cigarette and light it as she drops to her knees and starts unbuckling my belt followed by my jeans. She works fast at pulling them down my hips while rubbing my erection with her free hand. “Mmm . . . you’re a big boy, aren’t you?” She pulls my briefs down, letting my cock spring free from its restraints. Her eyes go wide as she licks her lips. “Definitely a big boy. I’m going to have fun with this one.”
I close my eyes and take a drag as she moves in and closes her lips around my cock. She moves in a slow rhythm, swirling her tongue around while moving her hand up and down my shaft. She’s a f*cking pro at this. The combination of the nicotine mixed with the suction is just what I need at the moment.
I moan as she starts moving faster. It feels f*cking fantastic, but I’m not feeling the release that I should. This pisses me off.
Taking another hit, I inhale it long and deep while grabbing the back of her head and pushing it further down so my head hits the back of her throat. She grabs my ass and starts sucking faster; enjoying it.
I move my hips back and forth, f*cking her mouth, matching her rhythm; looking for a release that isn’t coming. Not even close.
F*ck! I’ve had enough of this shit.
Tugging her hair so she knows to stop, I pull out of her mouth, bend down and pick her up to her feet. I toss my cigarette down. “Bend over.” I place my hand on her back and push her forward so her ass is in the air. Beautiful. She looks over her shoulder at me, waiting. “This isn’t doing what I need it to do, sweetheart. I need to bury my cock deep in your p-ssy for the release I need. You better be ready to take it deep and hard.” I bend over her and speak in her ear while pulling her dress up. “I have a lot of frustration to work out. Just a one-time release.”
I turn her around so she can place both her hands on the building for support. She’s going to need it. I slap the right exposed cheek, hard. She yelps and I press my front to her back. “You like that,” I ask as I hook my thumbs under her panties and inch the tiny thong over her hips, letting them fall to her feet. Pushing back, I reach in my pocket for a condom.
My jaw clenches as I stare down at her slick p-ssy just waiting for me to ram my cock in it; to give her the same release I’m needing. For some reason, I don’t feel the same rush as usual. As a matter of fact, I don’t feel shit.
“F*ck!”
I toss the condom packet at the building and rub my hands over my face. I am beyond frustrated with myself at the moment. This is not f*cking good. Sex has always been my way to cope. If I don’t have that what kind of p-ssy am I? What the f*ck am I supposed to do now?
She looks over her shoulder to see my face before she quickly stands up and pulls her dress down. She looks disappointed as f*ck. “What the f*ck is wrong? Are we doing this or not?”
I shake my head while pulling my jeans back up and exhaling. “Not.” I buckle my jeans and then turn to walk away while redoing my belt buckle. I need to get my ass busy with something. F*cking shots or something. Anything to numb this shit.
I storm my way back into the bar and over to Sarah. “Give me a f*cking shot; the strongest you got . . . and quick.” I sit my ass on a stool and watch as she reaches for a glass. She flashes a knowing smile while setting it down in front of me and eyeing me up and down. “What, Sarah?”
She shakes her head and pours me a shot of Whiskey. “Looks like you’re not the only one here to drink your mind away.” She nods behind me and leans over the bar. “Look behind you by Hemy.”
I grab my shot and spin around in my stool while slamming it back. The sight in front of me makes my f*cking heart race.
What the hell?
“How long has she been here?” I push the shot glass in front of Sarah and stand up. “Another one. Fast.”
Sarah sighs and pours me another one. “She got here right after you went outside. She’s already had three shots of Vodka and a Vodka and cranberry.” She watches as I slam back the second shot before speaking again. “She looks like she’s having some fun with Hemy. My guess is . . .” She smirks at me and grabs my empty glass out of my hand. “That you already f*cked her. Women always seem to go looking for the next guy to make her feel wanted.”
“Yeah, well we both know she isn’t getting it with that mother f*cker. He’s worse than I am. Shit.”
I can already see Hemy working his bad boy charm on Aspen and even from across the room, it looks as if it might be f*cking working. The truth is, if Hemy wants to f*ck someone he will f*ck them one way or another. It’s how it works with him.
He’s over there with his jeans unbuttoned, slowly pouring water down the front of his chest while looking her directly in the eyes and f*cking the damn air. From my angle I can see her hands reach out to touch his stomach. I’m not sure I’m liking this shit.
Making my way across the room, I step up behind Aspen and grab her arm to turn her around. It takes her a few seconds before she even registers that she’s looking at me. The drinks are clearly setting in and I’m wondering just what the hell her reasoning is for being all over Hemy. “What the f*ck are you doing here?”
Aspen laughs, clearly unfazed by my tone and yanks her arm out of my reach. “I’m getting a strip tease from Hemy. What does it look like?” She reaches for Hemy’s jeans and pulls him closer to her. “Don’t stop dancing on account of that a*shole,” she says with a scowl.
Hemy raises an eyebrow to me and smirks as he notices my eyes trail down toward her hands that are working their way down to his hard dick. She’s clearly trying to push my buttons.
“Don’t come over here and try to ruin my fun just because you’re having a bad day. Clearly you have some shit to deal with.” She runs her hand over Hemy’s cock while looking at me. Hemy seems to f*cking like this. “Maybe Hemy isn’t as big of a dick as you.” She laughs and looks me in the eyes. “Well, he definitely has as big of a dick as you. Maybe he knows how to use it just as good.”
Okay. Now I am getting extremely f*cking pissed. I don’t like seeing her rub his f*cking cock one bit. It makes me want to kick the shit out of Hemy. Well, that’s a f*cking new feeling. “Too bad you won’t be finding out. You’re f*cking going home. Now.”
She yanks her arm away from me as I reach for it. “The hell I am. I’m having fun with Hemy. He’s so damn sexy.” She steps closer to Hemy and caresses his chest and abs. “And I bet those piercings feel . . . good. I’ve heard some hot, hot stories about him. Maybe I want to try him out. Have a little fun of my own for once.”
Hemy goes to reach for her waist, but I place my hand to his chest and push him back. “Back the f*ck up, man.” My jaw steels as I look him in the eyes to let him know just how f*cking serious I am. “Not a good time to f*ck with me.”
Hemy gives me a hard look before backing away and finding the closest chick to start grinding on. We may push each other’s buttons, but we’ve figured out in the past just how far to push each other. We’re not going that f*cking route again.
“Are you serious?” Aspen reaches for her purse and starts heading for the door. “I really cannot stand you. First you f*ck me and then you throw me out like trash and now you ruin my fun. What the hell goes on in your twisted mind?” She moves faster as I fall into step behind her. “Huh? Huh? What?”
“None of your business. All you need to know is that you’re acting like a f*cking fool. If you think Hemy will treat you any better than me, then you’re f*cking mistaking. He will take you home and call over a buddy while they both f*ck you until you’re sore. Then they will wake up and f*ck you again. You will still end up alone in the end results. Hemy is not going to make things any better.”
She yanks the door open and rushes outside before turning around to yell at me. “So, what the hell does it matter? It seems that no one wants me. I’m not enough for anyone. Might as well just f*ck them all then. I’m so tired of it. So tired of everyone treating me like I’m worth nothing but sex. What is so wrong with me?”
I watch as she turns around and stomps over to her friend’s car. She struggles with unlocking the door while trying to balance on her heels. “Don’t you f*cking get in that car.” I stride over and yank the keys from her hand. “You’re not driving.”
She reaches for the keys, but I hold them up high so she can’t reach them. She slaps my chest and pushes me. “Give. Me. The. Keys.”
I shove them in my front pocket and push up against her until her body is pinned against the car. “No. You’re not driving. You’re f*cking drunk.” I pin her hands above her head as she struggles against me. “And you are f*cking enough. We’re all just f*cking a*sholes. You need to know that.”
She stops struggling against me and looks me in the eyes. I see a hint of her there but I can tell that she’s pretty close to wasted. After a few seconds, she pulls one of her arms free and reaches into my pocket digging for the keys. I feel her hand brush over my cock and it instantly gets hard. “Give it to me, dammit.”
I yank her hand out of my pocket and pin it back against the car while roughly pushing my body against hers. “I said you’re not f*cking driving. I’ll call us a cab. Try reaching for those keys again and I will f*cking tie your ass up with my belt.”
“Why the f*ck do you care? Now you want to be the good guy?” She laughs and pushes me away with her knee. I back off and give her the space she needs. She looks hurt now. I can’t deal with that. “Get off me. I’ll be over here.” She starts walking away. “In the bushes waiting.”
I don’t understand why, but I just want to get this woman home and in bed; in my f*cking bed.




*       *       *



By the time we get back to the house, the full effects of the shots must have kicked in. She’s slurring her words and laughing at absolutely nothing at all. It almost makes me want to laugh, but I’m too f*cking annoyed to enjoy this.
She laughs even harder as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. “My ass is showing.” She starts tugging on her dress and squirming in my arms. “My thong! My thong!”
I slap her ass to stop her from moving. “No one cares. We’re the only ones here and I have already seen your ass.”
“Yeah. And a whole lot more.” She begins pulling up the hem of my shirt, revealing my back. She inserts the tips of her fingers under the waistband of my jeans, lightly caressing my ass. It kind of tickles until she digs her nails into my skin and scratches upward. “I want to see more of you. Strip.” She continues to scratch up my back, hard, causing me tip her back up.
I grab her ass cheeks in my hands and she instantly wraps her legs around my waist. She bites the skin on my neck playfully as she reaches for my belt. I start walking up the stairs toward my bedroom. “Take it off, dirty stripper boy,” she says teasingly. “I love your body. It’s so sexy. I just want to lick it and taste.”
As turned on as I am by her biting me and trying to strip me, I keep my f*cking cool and toss her on my bed before walking out of my room and slamming the door behind me. I can’t let this shit happen for two reasons: number one, she’s drunk. Number two, it’s against my f*cking rules.
Shit. I need a cold shower.
I take my time in the shower before quietly making my way up the stairs and to my room. When I walk in, I notice right away that she is sleeping. She’s managed to strip out of her dress and heels and is now wearing one my favorite shirts. I have to admit, I like seeing her in it. She looks beautiful; like a f*cking angel.
I reach for a cigarette and light it while pacing around my room and watching her sleep. She looks so f*cking peaceful lying there. A part of me wants to crawl into bed next to her and hold her in my f*cking arms, but the smarter part of me is reminding me of what a horrible idea that is. So instead, I dig out my favorite picture of Helena, grab the chair and pull it next to the window and sit.
I stare at the picture until my eyes blur. I haven’t looked at this in almost a year. It hurts. It hurts so f*cking badly that I can’t breathe . . . but there is something making it a little easier. Someone that makes me want it to be easier. That thought scares me.
I must sit there for about an hour, in the dark with my hands wrapped in my hair before I hear her mumbling and moving around. When I look up, I see that her eyes are opened and she’s staring right at me.
“Talk to me, dammit,” she says.
I feel an ache in my chest at the thought of talking about it. I’ve been holding in my emotions for so long; for too long. Maybe it’s time to get it out. She’ll be gone in a couple days anyways. Maybe this will help ease some shit in my head.
Here goes f*cking nothing . . .
I jump to my feet, toss the picture on the bed and try to hold back the tears. “Her name was Helena Valentine. She was my fiancé and was carrying my child.”