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THE HIGH WAS GONE AS SOON AS IT CAME
Venus Meyers is a regular college student. Living with her boyfriend up until she finds out he's a serial cheater. After losing her job and her graduation getti...
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I've never been jealous. Not once in my life.
I don't get jealous. Simply don't, because everyone can be replaced. Nobody's irreplaceable.
The brunette in a little black dress is no exception.
I watched her dance with that guy, the one from the coffee shop. Laugh with him. Throw herself onto him.
I could hear her giggle through the loud ringing in my ears.
The feeling inside me is not jealousy. No. It's not.
I just don't like when someone thinks they can dare to touch what's mine. That gets me riled up.
The ringing is louder than the music in the club. My hand tightens around the glass of plain vodka. I've become so desensitized to the stuff, that only plain vodka gets me going.
It takes everything in me not to march over there, throw her over my shoulder, and have my way with her in the restroom.
"Xan," Melissa, one of the groupies the guys brought, moans in my ear, palming my hard dick, no thanks to her, through my pants.
I let her. Even though I'd like to have a certain brunette's hands on me instead, that'll have to do for now.
Venus stumbles to the bar, ordering something again. She's already drunk, barely able to stand still.
She turns around, leaning back onto the counter on her elbows. Her glassy eyes scan the room, a silly smile playing on her lips, but it vanishes as soon as they land on me. Her gaze turns livid as her eyes trail down my body, to the hands of a blonde, sitting next to me, palming my cock.
I think she'll turn back to the bartender, and pretend she didn't see me, but she does the opposite. She marches toward me, rather angrily.
Well, this is a twist.
She has always ignored my presence, whenever she saw me. Never did she try to initiate any of our interactions. I'm the one who does that.
She stops in front of our table, a hand on her hip, a cute frown on her face.
"What are you doing here?" Her words slur a little, but her posture holds, pushing out her tits. My lips twitch, wanting to wrap around her pretty nipples. My gaze zeroes on her chest. Fuck. She's not even wearing a bra.
My cock thickens further, to the point it almost hurts.
"What are you doing here?" I fire back. My gaze switches to the person at the bar, behind her. "With him," my voice drips with malice.
Kira, or wherever her name is, continues to kiss my neck and palm my cock, too high on cocaine to care about a new addition to our company.
"Who's that?" Her gaze falls on Kira. "And it's none of your fucking business who I'm with," her tone irritated me, but not more than her words. Her blazing gaze is locked on mine.
