Fool for Love (Believe #2) (4 page)

I
WATCH MY UNWANTED
tenant until she has locked the door to the bathroom.

Fuck me.

I take a deep breath, my senses unable to ignore the floral scent that lingers in her wake. As warmth starts to spread in my dick, I groan.

“Shit,” I whisper, wishing that I could yell in frustration, or punch a hole in the wall next to me. Instead, I reign in the temper rising in me. The last thing I need right now is this woman – this
young
woman – to come running, looking at me in fear with those grey eyes of hers.

“Fuck, man, you’re losing your mind,” I whisper, rubbing my tired eyes.

The alcohol in my body is beginning to ebb away, and a faint throb of discomfort is having a field day in my temples. I know that coffee will be the perfect cure, of course, and I stare at the machine in front of me, willing the antidote to my hangover to get ready sooner rather than later.

The anger that was dulled by the whiskey is clawing at my insides, and it only strengthens as thoughts of Donna – the fucking cunt – invades my headspace once more. Of all the luck in the world…

There I was, at my favourite bar, just around the corner from my apartment, having the best time trying to get into the pants of a busty blonde, when she sat down beside me and interrupted my plans for the night.

Today’s date never ceases to get easier for me, and I have accepted that it never will. But did it have to be made even more miserable by the presence of
her
?

Apparently so. Karma is a bitch, always biting my ass. In my case, Karma is called Donna Winthorpe. If I could, I’d move to San Francisco on a permanent basis, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her drive me away from the city that has been my home all my life.

New York saved me when I couldn’t save myself. When all my happiness disappeared and I wasn’t fit to be around anybody, least of all my own family; when the light gave way to darkness, and I got close to giving in to it for all eternity.

I’m not a sentimental man – except when it comes to this great city.

In need of noise and people? I go to the nearest subway and head downtown.

If I want quiet and solitude, Central Park is the perfect place.

And best of all? If I want to find an easy target to fulfil my sexual needs, I only have to take a cab to my cousin’s joint,
The Vault
, to get my dick wet.

Simple. Easy. Convenient.

A necessity to a man such as myself.

Unclenching my hands resting on the countertop, I reach for the coffee and force my thoughts away from my nemesis. Immediately, they veer off to my gorgeous tenant.

Suzy.

Shaking my head, I curse silently.

Only twenty-four years old. So young.
Way
too young for a man pushing forty to have the kind of thoughts my dick has at the moment. I blame the lack of a hard fuck for this. If I were in the right frame of mind, I’d never even contemplate the fantasy that is currently running on repeat in my head.

But those lips of hers…they were made for sin.

With a low groan, my dick begins to rise to the occasion, and I pour my first cup of the day. As the warm liquid runs down my throat, I close my eyes and lean my head back, momentarily content. I sigh, unable to ignore the throbbing in my dick anymore. I grab it in my right fist through my jeans and squeeze, hard.

“Oh, my,” a breathy voice interrupts me. My eyes fly open, and I turn my head sharply to find Suzy staring at me, mouth almost hanging open, her eyes fixed on my hand covering my hard-on.

This does not please me.

Quickly, I walk past her and head for the bathroom. I need to get back in control, and there’s only one way to do that.

I slam the door shut and unbutton my jeans. Freeing my cock, I jack off to the fantasy of Suzy on her knees before me, collared and willing
to please me.

Because that’s how I like my women.

I stand there, looking at the shut door, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out what Garrett’s up to just now.

When I saw him rubbing that pretty impressive bulge in his pants, I couldn’t keep my silence. It would have been too weird if I’d just remained frozen, waiting for him to get it on in front of me; but a small part of me is rather disappointed that he left.

Mentally slapping my cheek, I walk slowly to the bar, grab a chair, and sit down. His coffee is sitting on the countertop, the steam rising slowly, and I shrug. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste, so I reach for it and inhale the aroma before tasting it.

As I nurse the delicious drink, I wonder about my landlord, if that is even what I should call him. Why is he here? He’s somewhat older than I first thought, but it’s hard to tell with the long hair and the beard covering his features. I don’t usually get all gooey by the sight of a man, or maybe I do, but this one has me very intrigued – and kind of horny. There’s an air of coolness to him, and while the coldness in his eyes made me slightly apprehensive at first, the heat in them I glimpsed just now makes me wonder if there’s more to him than meets the eye.

Rubbing my forehead in frustration, I frown.

Why the hell do I care?

I don’t have time to wonder about Garrett Thompson, or the softness of his hair, or how his beard would feel against my thighs, or –

Stop right there!

I breathe deeply and try to think of something less alarming – and sexy – and then decide to leave the apartment to go find the nearest newsstand. It’s probably best that I’m gone while Garrett finishes his…err…hand job. Less messy and awkward for the both of us.

I have to find a job quickly. My savings are dwindling at at rapid pace, and if I don’t find one soon, I’ll be forced to call home to mum and dad, asking them for their help.

That’s the last thing I want to do.

I don’t need to hear any more
I-told-you-so’s
from them.