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SEX WITH MY BEST FRIEND'S FIANCÉ-Chapter 18 - EIGHTEEN
Chapter 18: Chapter EIGHTEEN
- KILLIAN -
How could she meet me while dressed that way? I let my mind wander back to when I saw her. In her cute sweater and baggy pink shorts which stopped just a bit below her ass.
She wasn’t provocatively dressed, but just seeing her thighs made me crave things I shouldn’t. It made me want to have her. Worship her feet and that body.
Like I did once.
I took a sip from my tumbler. It’s half filled with whiskey. A smile formed on my face as I scoffed, still holding my tumbler in the air. It’ll take more than one sip to get her out of my mind.
My eyelids came clashing down and I exhaled. Even with my eyes closed, she’s all I see in my head. All I can think about.
It’s crazy how I’ve fucked a lot of women but never felt this way before. It would be bullshit to say ’because they’re not her’ because I’ve had a lot of good sex, but with her, it was different. I found myself questioning a lot of things, my morality included. I found myself wanting to be gentle.
I’ve never done it that way with a stranger before.
Maybe that’s because they didn’t get drunk and call me a cute gentleman.
I drowned all the contents of my tumbler down my throat and groaned at the burning sensation I felt in my throat. The whiskey is harsh. Very harsh. But that’s why I drink it.
It gets me to clear my head from all the shit that flows in my mind every damn time. I got up from my office chair and strolled to my window.
I almost killed someone today. I tilted my head up to stare at the stars. The moon is not in sight. Just nearly doing that made me want to return to the thrill.
It made me miss being me. Not hiding under some facade.
I took a deep breath in and opened the windows. Cold breeze slid into my home office. The sound of weightlessness sheets flying around slid into my ears but I don’t care. If there was something I can do to make me forget work for a second, I will do it.
I exhaled and dipped my hands in my pocket. My hand brazed the grip of my gun which is fastened under my shirt. I tucked the lower part of my shirt out slowly to take my gun out.
Just sighting it gives me a blood rush. I know it sounds bad but I’m not a good person. I was just raised right and that’s why I have certain values. I do what I want and get away with it.
Funnily, I also deliver justice well served, in my own way that is.
I checked the chamber of my gun. It is filled with bullets. I cocked it back and held it out the window. My gun is always loaded.
One can never be too careful. Accidents happen. Sometimes purposely, and other times, not on purpose. I pointed my gun down and pulled the trigger.
The rustle of leaves from the tree by my fountain caught my attention and I stared at it. That’s where my bullet fired. I put my hand down, still holding my pistol.
How did I get the gun? I inherited it from my father.
Is it licensed?
I shut my window and drew the curtain forward. I guess that’s something we’ll never know. I walked back to my desk. On it is an open file with a few pages blown away. The picture in front of the page made my breath hitch.
It’s Hazel.
I closed the file and put my gun on top of it. You didn’t think I’ll fuck a girl and not have a run through about her, did you?
The more I get to dive into the research about her, the more interesting she gets. Although I’m not doing much, I’m just researching the basics. There are some things I’d rather she tell me herself. That is if we ever have a
one on one conversation again. And I hope we do.