Page 59 of Devilish Debt
“Is my guy what you say instead of myboyfriend?”Salay inquires prior to paddling over in his direction.
“I am not his boyfriend,” bursts free before I can even consider other,betterphrasing.
He briefly presses his lips together and swallows the hunk of hurt I can visually see I caused.
Fuck.
I didn’t…
I shouldn’t…
I probably could’ve…
Fuck.Me.
Not the best way to object.
Lifting my glass to my lips precedes him redirecting his attention to the woman who asked the question, “No.My guy is uh…just a phrase…I use…” One large throat clearing occurs.“The way some people might dude or babe.”
“Or brah,” she warmly states as she folds her arms along the edge of the curvy pool.
“Exactly.”
“I like my guy better.”
Her compliment successfully settles his spirit.
Noticeably softens his shoulders.
His grin.
Makes me feel shittier.
Drink again.
“Me too,” escapes in a flirty tone.
“You can totally call me ‘my guy’ if you want.”Her tongue steals a seductive swipe.“You can call me pretty much whatever you like when I’m riding your cock.”
“You looking for an invitation, baby?”
“You offering, Little One?”
“Focus,” is bitterly barked.“Forfuckssake.”
“We were trying to fuck for fuckssake,” snaps Salay when she meets my glare again.“You’re the only one here fucking determined for everyone to be as miserable as you.”
“I’m not miserable.”
“No?”She slaps an open palm across her wet chest.“I’m convinced.” Her frame dramatically leans overs.“Tell the judge to bang the gavel.Court dismissed!”
“Why is everything a fucking joke to you?”
“Why is everything a fucking federal life sentence to you?”
This.
Thisis why nothing more than fucking could ever work between us.
