Page 1 of Ly to Me

1

Carver

The Player

No matter how many times I blinked up at the ceiling of the piss-poor establishment I’d been dragged to, it wouldn’t change the fact the woman currently sucking my dick had no clue what she was doing. My nose scrunched up at the soundsshe was making, or maybe it was the smell of puke and shit that radiated around us. Pretty sure no one ever dared clean this bathroom, much less get a blowjob in it from some desperate girl they met only thirty minutes ago.

“Y-you’re s-so b-big,” she mumbled as I fisted her hair, not caring if she could breathe through…whatever the hell she was doing. Between the fake moans and the amount of drool pooling down her tight pink dress and spread thighs as she stayed on her knees—also disturbing with the amount of piss caked on the floors—I was about ready to call it quits.

But mama didn’t raise a quitter.

“Stand up.” I jerked her up by the hair, freeing the first genuine sound as she shrieked in pain. That wasn’t going to get any better. I spun her before I could see her face. “Plant your hands there and hike your fuckin’ dress up.” I pointed to the top of the toilet, the lid yellowed and ajar. If I were in her shoes, I would have told me to fuck right off. But she planted her hands down willingly because I was pretty sure no one ever taught this woman what self-worth was, nor had she developed it on her own.

With one hand in her dull-brown hair, I reached down and gripped my cock, slapping it roughly across her ass.

“Are you an ass man?” She wriggled back and forth, begging for me to push inside her.

I grimaced. “Not tonight.” Tina—we’ll call her Tina because all I heard was-inawhen I offered to buy her a shot and I didn’t care enough to ask a second time—was probably only good for the two holes I planned on using.

“I can take it.”

“Doubtful.” I fisted into the pocket of my low-hanging jeans, using the toe of my boot to spread her legs further apart as I opened a condom packet with my teeth and rolled it on.

“I’m clean, you don’t need—”

“Don’t tell me what I need.” No way I’d get a phone call in a month or so—wouldn’t be my sorry-ass bastard she’d be claiming was mine. After all, I had limits. And fatherhood was not one I wanted to push myself toward. Not with her.

She moaned and wriggled again. “Hold still, would ya?” I barked at her, spitting into my palm and rubbing it between her thighs.

“Are you gonna—” I slid in before she could finish whatever complaint was about to come from her mouth, forcing her head down on the toilet as I rutted into her. I wasn’t aiming for anything spectacular, but when I saw her hair and height, I envisioned doing exactly this.

“Fuck Carver, you’re—”

“Shut your mouth,” I ordered through gritted teeth as my balls slapped against her clit. She wailed in protest, or more like moaned, because I knew what I was doing and I wasn’t a total ass. The spot I was hitting should have her exploding sooner rather than later, in three, two—

“I’m so cl-close,” she got out before I could stop her again. I rolled my eyes and pushed harder on her head, forcing her lips to pucker beneath the hair that covered most of her face. The face that had everything wrong—wrong point to her nose, wrong angles to her cheeks, even the chin wasn’t even close. By anyone else’s standards, her features would be pleasing.

Not mine.

I pinched my eyes closed and kept ruthlessly fucking her, allowing my imagination to flare back to life. My cock responded eagerly to the imagery as I thrust harder into her. Only the rattling sounds of the porcelain john that Tina was gripping onto for dear life served as a reminder that this was only temporary. Soon, my body would ache for release again, refusing to be sated because it wasn’therbody that was under me.

“Carver!” Sloppy noises filled the small stall and her pussy convulsed while I continued to reach for my own release. I was right at the precipice, hanging between wanting it to end and wanting it to have never happened.

But what was done was done. Might as well come from it.

“I’m not fucking done.” I let go of her hair and grabbed onto her hips, yanking her closer, driving into her with abandon even as her gaudy earrings clanked with every thrust. Then, Tina somehow fought her way up, standing and grinding back against me as she held onto the top of the stall’s frame. At first, I wanted to push her back down, yet, with the new angle it was somehow better. Maybe she deserved another shot before I took her back to my place, knowing that need was going to rear its ugly head in an hour or two and there weren’t many other options on a Thursday night in Alliston Springs.

“Fuck!” My molars clenched as hard as her pussy, bringing her to two orgasms. Two solid points for Carver. I bet Jamie hadn’t even found a girl yet, and here I was, getting drenched by some girl I wasn’t even sure was named Tina.

Not that I gave a flying fuck to know her real name.

Three more thrusts and my dick finally decided to comply. I pulled out on instinct, pumping myself for what felt like a full minute as I emptied what had been the longest week of a build-up I’d had in years. I slapped her ass—or, what she had of an ass—as I rolled the condom off and tossed it into the trash bin in front of her.

“That was great, baby,” she cooed as her arm snaked up to wrap around my neck, which I dodged as I pulled my jeans back up.

“Sure.” I opened the stall and gave a last tug on my zipper before she had a chance to touch me. Tina followed as I headed back to the bar, reaching out for my hand several times, which I ignored.

Jamie swiveled in his usual barstool as we neared. “There ya are! Thought ya left, was ’bout to call it a night.” He hitched his thumb toward the door over his flannel-covered shoulder, grazing the edge of his slicked-back blond hair. “My date got antsy and said she’d meet us there later. Sabrina coming back with you?” He cocked his head as he looked at Tina, or Sabrina.