“I’ll get a better one tonight.” He ignores me, like it’s not weird that I’m his screensaver. I pretend like I’m appalled, but really, I want to jump up and down like a dork in high school who just found out the quarterback has the hots for me.
I just stare at him. “You think I really believe you don’t already have my number?” No way he doesn’t. Not after the picture thing and him knowing my real name.
He smiles, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He takes a step toward me, putting his finger under my chin, making me look up into his eyes. “And Josephine,” he says, looking into my eyes. “No more flirting with Butch. I don’t want to have to kill him.”
With that, he turns, pushing the hood of his car down before getting in. It starts right up, the engine turning over as he pulls out and leaves me gaping. I don’t flirt with Butch.
Butch is one of my brother’s best friends. He’s the reason I even came to this town. He got me my job working at the auto shop. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Growing up with all boys, I could pretty much do anything they could, except pee standing up.
Fuck, do I love the thought of him getting jealous over Butch. He’s just like another brother to me, and besides, I’m not even Butch’s type. He likes them blonde, tall, with giant boobs, and as easy as they come.
My phone beeps, and I see I have a text from an unknown number. Sliding my finger across the screen, I read the message.
Stop missing me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.
I roll my eyes, but then I find myself smiling as I walk back to the garage. “Asshole.”
I pump faster, speeding up my rhythm. My cock is aching for release, so this won’t take long.
Picturing Josephine standing in front of me, bent over, spreading her ass cheeks apart, I jerk off faster. I imagine her looking over her shoulder, giving me that sassy smirk, begging me to fill her up. I think about her smart mouth telling me how bad she wants me, and I start to cum.
Standing over the toilet, I watch as my cum drips down into the water. I hate to waste it, but no way can I sit through dinner and being so close to her without some kind of release. I won’t be able to control myself, so hopefully, this will take the edge off.
Jesus, it’s like I’m fifteen. I can’t last for more than sixty seconds when I’m thinking about my Josephine. I can’t wait until she’s under me, and I can get actual relief. Anytime I get hard, I can slide it into her body and empty my seed. After tonight’s hurdle, I’ll have her bred before the end of the week.
I smile to myself as I clean up and head out, not wanting to be late. I’ve driven to her townhouse a thousand times. I know she lives with Butch, but from what I can tell they are just friends. I still don’t like it, but for the moment there’s not much I can do. I’ll take care of that soon, but first I’ve got to get her in my bed. Then I’ll fix everything.
I pull up and take a breath, thinking that this probably isn’t the best timing with the case still going on. But I’ve waited almost a year to claim Josephine, and I can’t wait anymore. I’ve watched her like a hawk from the second I first saw her, unable to let her get too far from me. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done, but when it comes to ‘the one,’ the rules don’t apply. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Getting out of my cruiser, I walk by her car and think about the night I put the tracer on it. It’s hidden under the wheel rim and completely undetectable. Even if she took her car apart, she wouldn’t find it unless she was looking for it. Walking to the porch, I ring the doorbell, looking up to see the pinhead camera I installed around the same time. No one would know it was there unless you pointed it out. And even then it’s hard to tell. I wanted to know who was coming and going from her house at all times. Making sure she got home safe every night, too.
Oh yes, I’ve done a lot of things to keep eyes on my Josephine. Almost a year later and I’ve had enough playing around. I don’t care if this fucks up my case, I’m a man, and I’m only so strong.
The door opens, and Butch is standing there with his shirt off. I clench my hands into fists, ready to rip his head off.