Chapter THREE
"SHIIT!" I groan, resting the back of my hand on my head in the hopes that the hammering will soon subside as I continue to wake up.
I squirm myself up against the headboard, prying one eyelid open, the sun's harsh rays glittering into the room.
I pry the other eyelid open, looking down at the man stretched across the bed, his forearm covers his eyes and a cotton sheet conceals his manhood.
I bite my lower lip as I let my eyes unashamedly consume him and I reach out, cautiously raising the sheet as I take a peek inside.
My inner goddess cries her gratitude.
I press my legs shut, suppressing the yearning that makes me want to ride him like a demented zombie hooker.
I brush my finger across his cock. It jerks and slowly begins to rise as if to give me a standing ovation.
I gasp when his hand grips my wrist tightly like wildfire bands. When I attempt to withdraw from his touch, he sits upright and glances at me with a heated look in his eyes.
"Remember, one taste is all you get." In a deep voice, he declares leaving no room for an argument. "Last night was... Fun, but now it's time for you to leave and not look back." He lets go of me with a disgusted expression on his face, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I scoff, offended by his abrupt dismissal and choice of words. Humiliation slams into me and I refuse to let him think he can treat me like some..
Bimbo hooker who has suddenly become obsessed with him.
"I remember. But one taste wasn't all YOU got last night when you took me over and over." I get out of bed, grabbing his shirt, and drape it over my shoulders. "I'm keeping this by the way." I regard him with hateful eyes.
"Everyone always wants something from me as a souvenir." He slides out of the bed, standing in front of me butt naked and I do my best not to let my eyes drink him in.
"Ha!" I scoff, "Please, just stop. You sound like a cocky bastard who believes that every woman you sleep with wants more than just a one night stand." I look him up and down, shaking my head. "Did it ever occur to you that I only ever wanted one night with you?"
He chuckles, "You all say that and when I return home from working your waiting for my arrival." His top lip curls up into a snarl.
"Well, you can thank your lucky stars because now that I'm sober I realise this was all a big mistake." I huff out.
"I mean, how old are you anyway. Thirty-eight?"
"Thirty!" He grumbles.
I search the room for the remainder of my clothing, spotting my torn underwear hanging off the corner of the bed. I cut my losses, finding my jeans and heels by his dresser. I quickly get dressed and turn to face him.
"I'm pretty disappointed that you couldn't keep your promise and ruin me for other men like you stated." I run my fingers through my hair with trembling hands.
"And I like my women with a little more experience in the bedroom," he says, slipping his boxers on as he rests his hands on his hips. "
"Oh, I'm sorry. Next time sleep with someone closer to your age then." I sneer with annoyance.
His hand wraps around my upper arm, stilling my movements. "Hey, it was you that wanted to fuck me, kedi yavrusu." (Kitten)
"Believe me when I say I regret it. I regret everything that happened between us." I fight him off me.
He throws his head back and lets out a boisterous laugh before he pins me to the nearest wall. He leans in, his hot breath fans the crook of my neck as he sucks on my feverish skin.
I want to shove him away, but the sensation of his body pressing against mine swiftly paralyses me.
"Tekrar görüşeceğiz, kedi yavrusu. Ve o gün geldiğinde seni bir kez daha benim yapacağım." He says roughly as he pulls back and crushes his lips against mine.
(We will meet again, kitten. And when that day comes, I'll make you mine once again.)
I snap out of my statue-like stance, pushing him off me and slapping him across the face. "Why do I always attract the crazy ones!" I scream and run out of the hotel room.
I step inside the elevator car, pushing the 'ground floor' button repetitively, wishing it will hurry up so I can leave this hotel behind like another bad recollection being added to my memory vault.
I gasp as I gaze at myself in the mirrored walls, and I cringe at the prospect of attempting to imagine what that idiot had been staring at while trying to take me seriously during our quarrel.
I frantically try to make myself look presentable, wiping the smeared mascara from my eyes, fixing my hair and tucking his shirt into my jeans.
Next thing I know, I'm holding the collar up to my nose, inhaling his scent, taking him in like my starving lungs rely on it.
Allowing his scent to linger in the air as I exit the car and push past a swarm of people staring at me as if I am batshit crazy.
I exit the hotels' double swinging doors, inhaling the early summer mornings breeze, grateful to be alive for another day. I walk down the street, crossing the road with no intentions of where I am heading now that I am free from Ace.
The world is my oyster and with $10 in my pocket, I'm able to purchase a bus ticket that will get me two towns away from here.
I stand outside the bus terminal, looking at the board with the available bus agendas and unexpectedly I find myself being dragged towards the alleyway.
I regard the men as mere addicts seeking their next fix, and when they release me, they throw me to the ground. I sit and watch as one of them draws a knife. It's long and sinister, glistening in the sun that slants down from the slummy sheet of sky.
The man holding the knife smirks as he runs his tongue along his top teeth and I realise... this is far more than a simple mugging.